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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: epicure who wrote (21165)	4/10/1999
From: Rambi	Read Replies (4) \| Respond to of 71178

How to Throw an Elegant Dinner Party- right out the Window. PArt I-- the Preprandial Preparations As you already know, CW had informed me this morning that he was bringing his new girlfriend (SW) home to dinner. Since I had already heard more than any mother wants to about the incredible cooking prowess, lovely home, and scintillating conversation of SW's mother, I decided to forego the pizza that he had warned her I would undoubtably serve, find the cloth napkins and really go all out. As the market opened, I browsed through a new cookbook. I don't know if this is unusual or not--- but I never, ever serve something I've made before to guests. Maybe it's because I already know how all the other recipes have turned out and I am eternally optimistic that somewhere out there is a recipe that will provoke unabashed admiration and respect when I serve it. Since I also had orders not to wear my bib overalls again, I went slightly more formal with a bluejean jumper. Dan offered to grill and as this is the most beautiful time of year in Dallas, I decided we should eat on the deck overlooking the mudfilled pool and the two foot high weeds in the back yard. Thus I bought 2 1/2 pounds of gorgeous sirloin and marinated it in a teriyaki sauce to make shishkabobs from it with fresh pineapple and apple slices. That was easy. As was the bread in the bread machine. Congratulating myself for being ahead of the game, I went to meet the organist for a rehearsal (I'm singing in church Sunday, but that's another story), then to pick up Ammo. And that's when things began to go bad. First I couldn't find my wallet. I sent Ammo out to search the car. He came back and said it wasn't there. I called the stores where I'd been yesterday. Nothing. Meanwhile Ammo announced that he had Saturday School for missing too many swim classes while he had bronchitis so we went to the doctor's office to pick up an excuse and rushed up to school with it. While Ammo went to turn in the excuse, I started a list of all the credit card companies I would have to call. It was especially irritating because I had just gotten my new driver's license and it was a really good picture, which doesn't happen that often. Ammo came running out to announce that the doctor for some reason had sent a copy of his school physical from 1998 instead of the excuse. So we rushed back to the doctor's for more papers, then back to the school. WHile Ammo ran back in, I happened to glance down next to his seat. And found my wallet. NEVER ask a teenager to look for something and trust their results. Home again. AN hour behind. I could feel the usual excitement of the challenge, an adrenalin rush as I surveyed the mountain of food before me. I had found a Greek Pasta Salad recipe that sounded good with peppercini and olives and feta. I began chopping and adding vegetables to the cooked pasta. It overflowed the bowl; I got a bigger one; it overflowed that one; I found an enormous china bowl I had used at a dinner for 24 and filled it. I guess I should have looked at how many the recipe served before I started. I was down to one hour. THe marinated green beans would have to go. She was skinny- how much could she eat, anyway? Besides, there was plenty of pasta salad if people were hungry. Dessert...I had come across a picture of an elegant plate of white chocolate shells filled with strawberries. THe directions sounded simple enough. Get a tin can, wrap cellophane around it Dip the end into melted chocolate, let it harden and peel the cellophane off and voilà! A perfect little cup! It DOES NOT WORK. WHen CW and date arrived I was standing amid the shattered remains of several chocolate cups and a great deal of cellophane. SW asked if there were something she could do to help. SHe is really a lovely girl. I told her to go scrub down the tables and chairs and set the table. Meanwhile I threw the strawberries into my mother's lovely champagne glasses and tried to melt the chocolate again thinking I'd pour it over the strawberries, thus forming a delicate crust. Does chocolate only have one meltdown in its life? I finally gave up and just threw lumps of it on the fruit and put them in the frig. The sound of water came from the deck. From the window I could see little soap bubbles floating by. WHat a nice girl. Part II --- the Dinner Dan serves the shishkabobs; I serve the salad, the bowl being too heavy to lift and occupying the majority of the table. "If the meat's not done enough, I can put it back on the grill," Dan says as we strip the skewers. Blood flows onto our plates. "It's fine, thank you," says SW politely. She tentatively pokes at a piece of beef and I think I see it try to bite her. "Is this a tapeworm?" asks CW, peering intently at his meat. While we wait for Dan to cook the steaks, Myers, who is snaking around our feet under the table, begins to make that terrible hairball noise. You can't ignore that sound. I know that poor girl is wondering what will land on her feet in the next few seconds. I try to kick the cat away while he retches, and make scintillating conversation at the same time. There is a dog barking loudly and unceasingly next door. Dan comes back with the steaks, which, while still bloody, are at least no longer moving. "Call Nancy and tell her to shut her dog up," says Dan. I watch in disbelief as CW goes into the poolhouse and emerges a few minutes later. THe dog is quiet. "She was really nice about it," he says. I am speechless. One does NOT complain to the neighbors about their dog when one has a loud band practicing in the pool house on a regular basis. "Well, call and tell her it's ok. THe dog can bark," says Dan. CW goes into the poolhouse and comes back a minute later. "SHe said thanks." The dog begins to bark again. EVeryone is looking at me. "What!" I'm worried I have raw meat hanging off my teeth. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" Dan is snickering. "It's CW's computer." Oh haha. EVeryone has a good laugh at penni's expense. More dog barking. ONly this time it's the other neighbor's dog, Bear. He wants Myers and Tesh to come closer to him and see what big teeth he has. This goes on for a long time. We finish with the entrée. SW helps me clear and we carry out the dessert. I put my spoon to the white chocolate lump. The entire glass of strawberries has been fused together, the chocolate hard as rock. We all wiggle the lumps around for awhile. CW finally puts most of his in his mouth and considerately covers his face with his napkin. SW is gamely trying to chip off a strawberry, but she is tiring. A piece of chocolate flies by my eye. "I think we're done," says Dan. THere is a sigh of relief. "SW," I say," You have performed admirably. You have succeeded in overcoming all the obstacles we intentionally put before you to see if you were worthy of our son. Raw meat, gagging cats, a dessert of solid granite; you faced it all with courage and dignity. We congratulate you." CW is rolling his eyes. "Mom," he says, as we move toward the house. "Could we just have pizza next time?"