Dinner parties have long been the middle-class tension release required for the 30-50s crowd. In a home (rather than a noisy restaurant), those seeking an alcohol-induced conversational table away from their daily corporate grind can really GO FOR IT and – depending on the guests to hand – things can get really quite lively.
The guests weren’t my problem. The 8 of us dine together regularly (to date – never a sober night) and no-one ever needs a second invitation to let their hair down.
No, the problem was that it was OUR turn. The dinner party location rotates and we were back to Him and me. Mass catering isn’t my ball game. I mean, it just really stresses me out and – with a seriously busy week stretching ahead – I bounded round to Building Feasts‘ kitchen for some advice.
‘A big chicken pie’ she suggested – already starting to dictate the ‘easy’ recipe. I wasn’t convinced it was that easy.
‘MY fish pie!’ she offered, even volunteering to make it for me!
And we drank lots of tea trying to work out what could possibly work best for the easiest dinner ever. I mean, what can honestly be worse than a jack-in-a-box hostess? Well, BEING that hostess, I reckon…
After all, I wanted to party too.
Then I remembered that there had been one (only one) moment in Building Feasts‘ life where she had been physically unable to build a feast. So she had enlisted the help of the brilliant couple behind Honey & Co.
I speed dialed. Three salads and one cake later, I felt perfectly adequate to roast some rosemary, garlic and lemon infused chicken, assemble a bowl of berries and throw together a mezze of starters.
Job done. I promptly instructed all guests to bring a bottle of something they might shot. (new verb: to shot)
After dinner? Wii Trivial Pursuit of course – Girls V Boys style. Sigh.
Today? Sore heads all round.