Extraction Pains

"They've got to come out."

"Putting it off will only make things worse."

"It's not healthy in the long run to keep them."

"They desperately need space."

"It's time."

The dentist was talking about my son's wisdom teeth.

I was thinking about leaving my daughter on a curb at JFK airport with bulging duffle bag and a ticket to Africa.

He got ice packs and meds for his extraction pain.



I got to come home* and make milkshakes for both of us.

His recovery is going great, especially now that the freezer is fully stocked with ice cream**.

Me?
I'm still poking at the hole that was left behind***.

Do as I say, not as I do

In May, I'm going to be co-hosting a cooking class called "The DIY Dinner Party"*. In the school auction brochure, the tagline for the event is, "Impress without Stress!"**

During the class, I plan to give the attendees some helpful tips for making that simple but compelling statement a reality:

1. Don't use a dinner party as a place to experiment with a new recipe.  Go with something tried and true, so you have confidence in your food.
2. Keep the guest list manageable for your menu.  If you are planning a series of plated courses, for example, make sure you have elbow room and comfortable seating for the group around a dining table.  For larger groups, go with a buffet and allow the guests to spread out among several tables.
3. Expect people to offer to help, and have simple jobs ready for them to do.
4. Pour plenty of wine and cocktails for the guests, but keep your own consumption to a minimum until the dinner is firmly under way.
5. Above all, prepare as much as you can ahead of time, so you can enjoy the festivities yourself.  Sitting down and eating with your guests is the most impressive entertaining accomplishment of them all!

I should totally take that class.

On Monday, I sent my husband an email.

To:  myunsuspectinghusband@gmail.com
From:  youroverambitiouswife@gmail.com
Re:  Birthday dinner party

Can I throw you one on Sunday night? Was going to invite [list of six people].
xxoo

From: myunsuspectinghusband@gmail.com
To: youroverambitiouswife@gmail.com
Re: Birthday dinner party

That sounds nice.  Are you cooking or catering?

From: youroverambitiouswife@gmail.com
To: myhusbandwhoasksgoodbutsillyquestions@gmail.com
Re: Birthday dinner party

Cooking!

[Silence]

On Tuesday, I sent out an evite.

I meant to invite those six people, but then I remembered a few more people he really likes and that we hadn't seen in a while and I thought how it was actually really short notice and a holiday weekend so most people would probably say no so it would be better to ask a few too many than not have anyone show up because how sad would THAT be for a birthday party, right?  So I emailed 16 people instead of 6.

On Wednesday, I pulled out a bunch of cookbooks and spent hours drooling over photos and recipes. I literally had stacks of them all over the family room. I jotted down ideas for a multi-course gourmet meal, complete with passed appetizers.  My husband had requested a whole fish be in there somewhere, even though I'd never cooked a whole fish for him in my life.  No problem!  In fact, that could be, like, the theme of the dinner:

On Thursday, I checked on attendance.
10 people had said yes, four had not replied and two said no.  I texted another couple and invited them, too.  Note: our dining table seats 8.

On Friday, I went to the liquor store.
Because of course, the only recipe I bothered to test ahead of time was the cocktail one.

On Saturday, I was on a roll.  I shopped. I made dip, salad dressing, and Parmesan crisps. I made the vanilla ice cream, the caramel sauce, and the puddings. We had carrot cake and presents and celebrated my husband's birthday as a family until the kids ditched us.

On Sunday, I realized I was about to serve bacon-wrapped fish to an observant Jew and a vegan.

I had another, much larger, test version of the cocktail, opened up some wine, put out the appetizers, answered the door, and hoped for the best.

The Mixed Tuna Carpaccio

The (fortunately) vegan-friendly mixed green salad

The salmon was good, but the mashed potatoes were AMAZING!

They loved it all. My daughter, bribed to be my sous chef, turned out to be a master of carpaccio creation and a plating genius. We squeezed into 15 folding chairs around the dining table, and no one seemed to mind the bumped elbows and interludes between courses.  Food disappeared and glasses were filled, then filled again.  Once the party started, I was too busy to take photos****, but not too busy to catch up with old friends.  We told stories and laughed and mocked my husband a little before wishing him happy birthday with a single red candle in a bowl of hot, molten chocolate decadence.

And somehow, even though I pretty much ignored all my own advice, I did manage to impress.  The stress part still needs some work.

Carpool Wars: Battle Taco!

Given how intense this thing is getting, I clearly need to update the "Feud" entry on Wikipedia:

"A feud (ˈfjuːd'), referred to in more extreme cases as a blood feud, vendetta, faida, or private war, is a long-running argument or fight, often between social groups of people, especially families or clans.

Famous blood feuds

The Hatfield clan in 1897.

• Three Kingdoms period, (184-280 AD) feuding Chinese warlords during the fall of the Han Dynasty.
• Njál's saga, an Icelandic account of a Norse blood feud (960-1020; Norway, Ireland and Iceland)
• The Mackintosh-Cameron feud (1290s-1665)
• The Battle of the North Inch, Michaelmas, 1396, Scotland; the battle is fictionalised in the novel The Fair Maid of Perth bySir Walter Scott
• The Percy–Neville feud (1450s; England)
• The Wars of the Roses (1455–1487; England)
• The Talbot–Berkeley feud (1455–1485; England) (concurrent with the War of the roses)
• The Gunn–Keith feud (1464-1978; Scotland)
• The Campbell–MacDonald feud, including the Massacre of Glencoe (1692; Scotland)
• The Regulator-Moderator War, (1839-1844, Republic of Texas)
• The Donnelly–Biddulph community feud (1857–1880; Ontario, Canada)
• The Lincoln County War (1878–1881; New Mexico, USA)
• The Hatfield–McCoy feud (1878–1891; West Virginia & Kentucky, USA)
• The Clanton/McLaury–Earp feud (see also Earp Vendetta Ride), also known as the "Gunfight at the O.K. Corral" (1881; Arizona, USA)
• The Pleasant Valley War, also known as the "Tonto Basin Feud" (1882–1892; Arizona, USA)
• The Capone–Moran feud, including the St. Valentine's Day massacre (1925–1930; Chicago, Illinois, USA)
• The Castellammarese War (1929–1931; New York City, USA)
• The Great Mafia War (1981–1983; Sicily, Italy)
• The Feud of Scampia (2004–2005; Naples, Italy)
• The Maguindanao Massacre (2009; Ampatuan, Philippines)"
• Carpool Wars (2011-2012; Encino, California, USA)

Carpool Wars: Battle Taco!
The latest skirmish between the carpool clans was brutal, as usual.

First, the battle lines were drawn:

A taco, by definition, is a tortilla folded around a filling, so that's the basic limit. 
Tortillas can be corn or flour, homemade or store bought. 
The filling can be anything -- meat, veggies, combination, etc. 
The tacos themselves can be fried or not, rolled or soft. 
Because condiments are such a personal thing, I'd suggest we each have a "recommended" configuration (including specific toppings, if any), but allow the judges to customize their own if they choose from your available condiments.

Available condiments?
Try five different homemade salsas, freshly chopped mangos, various types of crumbled and grated cheese, quick-pickled onions, shredded lettuce, thinly sliced radishes, chopped cilantro, ripe tomato wedges, sour cream, dill cucumber spears, olives, diced white onions, and fresh avocado.

Now picture them rigidly separated into four distinct sections of a big table, and pity the fool that tried to put one woman's cotija cheese on another woman's chicken taco.

Smack!

The tacos themselves?
Two fried, two not.

The tortillas?
All corn.  Some grilled, some freshly heated on a cast iron griddle.

The fillings that could be anything?
Shredded chicken.
Grilled swordfish.
Slow roasted beef brisket.
Smoky sirloin and chorizo.

Homemade guacamole and chips, in a gorgeous authentic molcajete.
Caesar salad.
Seasoned refried black beans.
Fresh Hibiscus tea.
Margaritas, too.
Juicy watermelon.
Mexican bread pudding and salted caramel shortbread bars.

And after all that work?
The verdict was perfectly split, four ways.

Yep, this this particular vendetta may go on for years**.

And now....The Battle Taco contenders!

At least you got a free pan. And a sunburn.*

Not to mention a great picture with my son and a fake cow.

But no trophies for us at this year's Grilled Cheese Invitational.  Again.

Not for lack of trying, mind you**.
After much experimentation...

Studiously applying the Scientific Method to Churro Grilled Cheese

Which cheese to use?  Mascarpone won.

The filling contenders: Mexican chocolate, cinnamon almond, clementine caramel

The orange caramel came out on top. 

...we were ready to hit the Rose Bowl.  (Or at least the parking lot next to the Rose Bowl).

At the competition, we wrapped each sandwich with parchment like this, sealed with a sticker listing the ingredients. Clearly, we should have sealed it with a lottery ticket or a roll of twenties. 

Luckily, there was one right in front of the house

One of these days, when the first guest arrives, I will be clean, dressed, and coifed.  The kitchen counters will be spotless.  The house will smell marvelous, but there will be no sign that any pots, pans, utensils, or food was actually used in the creation of that intoxicating aroma.

Yesterday was not one of those days*.

I honestly thought I had a shot at it.  The night before, I'd made the stratas**, along with the dressings for the fruit salad and the mixed greens.  I had the sourdough biscuit makings done. I'd squeezed the oranges for the mimosas, pulled out all the serving dishes, arranged the flowers and delegated coffee and drinks to other guests.  I wrote down a short list for the morning, washed up, and went to bed.

T minus two hours, and I was in the kitchen, cranking away and singing along with "Little Red Corvette" at the top of my lungs.  Crossing things off my list and feeling great.

T minus 30 minutes, and I'm getting a tiny bit concerned.  I pop the potatoes in the oven, eye the growing stack of dirty dishes worriedly, and start three frying pans for all the bacon***.  Fittingly, "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley is up next in my queue.  On the plus side, the house smells incredible.  On the downside, it is also quite smoky.  My son is belatedly doing the chore I assigned him yesterday.  I step out to put tablecloths outside, and come back to an unrecognizable rap song and my son and all five guinea pigs yelling at the top of their respective lungs as he cleans their cages.  The bacon is sizzling away, spraying grease all over the stove.

T minus 10 minutes.  I'm about halfway through my stack of bacon, the timer is beeping on the oven, and I realize I forgot to make the maple egg wash for the biscuits.  I'm debating whether it is more important for me or dishes to get a quick rinse when the phone buzzes.  Oh boy. Someone was early. The dog, helpfully. steps on my foot and begins to bark loudly.

I send a kid to answer the door, put on my most gracious "hostess in old sweatpants" smile, and make the best of it.  Get the stratas out of the oven, and get the biscuits in.  Put the guests to work shuttling things outside.  Hand over my tongs to a helper and dress the salads.  Sprinkle sugar on the berries and give hugs to the now-steady stream of new arrivals, shooing them out with the promise of coffee.  

A breeze is blowing, dissipating the haze in the kitchen, and I hear the happy hum of conversation through the open windows.  I scoop potatoes into a large bowl and place the last of the warm biscuits onto the platter.  They look fantastic.  Everything does****.  I wipe my brow and breathe a sigh of relief.  It's all under control.

Then a muffled crash, hurried footsteps, and a voice from the hallway.

"Sharon?"

Yeah?

"We're gonna need a hose."

I'm gonna need one of these.

"And a lot of soap!"

Make it two.

High Five for High Tea

I have truly matured*.

First, there was the KCRW pie contest.  A living testament to my new-found ability to apply logic and civility to my everyday life.

And then, there was the school auction.  In the past, my behavior during these charity events could most accurately be described as "bid-happy mania", or "early-onset competitive buying frenzy."  I'm sure they have some kind of clinical definition for the condition, but it is irrelevant, because that was the OLD me.  The NEW me is all about pure, cool-headed, bang-for-the-buck bargain hunting.  No more mad buying rushes or impulsive insanity. Just calm, adult browsing for things that are truly missing from my life.  I even invented a handy acronym:

NBS = Need-Based Shopping

NBS is my new mantra.
NBS is my new calling.
NBS totally works.

For example, at this year's auction, I bought the following items:

1.  Mah Jong and margaritas on the beach in Malibu
2.  Texas Hold 'Em lessons, including cocktails and a full BBQ dinner**
3.  A cooking class on how to make a traditional English Afternoon Tea***

I think we can all agree that these clearly fall under the category of "household staples".  Yes?

Perfect. Because that's the way I (maturely and logically) entered the costs into Quicken.

A Really Inspired Kitchen - The Sequel
Considering how much I learned in this class, I could also have entered this item under "educational expenses."   For instance, I learned that this very British tradition came about because of the hunger pangs experienced by Queen Victoria's royal tummy in the olden days.  And a fine tradition it is.  Per our lesson plan:

"A proper English Afternoon Tea is so inviting to both men and women.  A little relaxation in the afternoon, a time to socialize a bit, and a lovely snack with the pick-me-up of caffeine. " 

Inviting!

"For a lovely starter...quarter some strawberries, sprinkle lightly with sugar, add a little lemon juice and a little grated lemon rind, and allow the berries to macerate in the refrigerator.  Serve with a dollop of creme fraiche or sour cream, and a little champagne!"

Lovely starter!

"The items in our menu are developed exclusively for teas.  They would not make good hors d'oevres for a cocktail party because a "tea" savory item is milder, and not meant to be served with liquor.****  Tea sandwiches differ from other sandwiches in that they must be extremely thin, almost transparent."

Cucumber with Herb Cheese & Butter

Curried Shrimp Salad

Pate a Choux with Gravlax and Dill Sauce

Delicate sandwiches that are not appropriate for cocktail parties? Check! I have to say, we are doing very well in this class so far.

"As for the sweets, they too are best suited for teas than for dinner desserts.  Our sweets are lighter, less goopy, and easy to handle."

Swiss Roll

Treacle Tart

Un-gloopy desserts. Yes, ma'am! We are good with these.

And of course, current scones.

"The perfect accompaniments to tea."

Perfect accompaniments.  In fact, A+ accompaniments, if you ask me.  I ate two, for extra credit.

The tea was hot and strong, the table was set with china and silver, and we were, like her royal highness, experiencing great pangs of hunger.   In a most civilized manner, we lifted our little pinkies, and ate like queens!

Practical, level-headed queens, of course.