Haughty Hostess

Sometimes I wonder how I would spend my time if I weren't in grad school, and now that finals are over I have my answer(s). They include, but are not limited to: yoga, watching tv, reading for pleasure, jogging, walking, actually spending time with my roommate, running errands, and catching up with friends. I decided to spend last night doing the latter, and for some reason offered to cook for said friend, though I did warn her it was at her own risk. Fully informed, she reluctantly agreed. (But not before asking if I was sure I didn’t want to go out to eat.)

After getting home from work, I hastily ran around attempting to make my apartment look like it was emerging from the pages of Southern Living, and I have to say I did a pretty nice job. Candles were lit, the Christmas tree was twinkling in the corner, pillows were fluffed. However, in doing all of this I also forgot to preheat my oven, resulting in my guest having a prettttty long wait for her dinner to arrive on the table. I also had no appetizers or dessert. But hey, the smoke alarm only went off one time!

Note to self: Asking your guest to bring wine and then guzzling half the bottle by yourself while justifying that you “had a bad day” still makes you look like a lush. Oh well. I'll own that.

In essence, the key to a great dinner party isn’t being worried about drinking too much or counting how many times the smoke alarm starts screaming. (3? 5? I’ve had too much wine to remember.) It’s about having the gem of a guest who will still enjoy your company while you are doing all of the above and muttering four-letter words about the oven taking so long to preheat.

On a positive note, I made her Feta Chicken and Curried Rice, which she not only liked but went back for seconds. And as far as I know, she hasn’t experienced food poisoning. (But then again, I haven’t heard from her today.)

Me cooking + no one has to go to the ER afterwards?

Success!