Ok ok backtrack. I am NOT living with two men, and I am not a gourmet chef extraordinaire, despite the pesky rumors that have been floating around. All I did was invite my good friend, Daniel, over for dinner with me and hubbykins a couple of nights ago.
But if there was a role for Mr. Roper, my dad would have to take it, complete with his very own laughtrack. Let me explain... My parents stopped by for a few minutes while the three of us were supping (not even sure if that's a word, BUT it should be!). My dad sampled a couple of things I made. He wrongly identified the kind of burger we were eating (laughtrack follows). He also managed to stick in his trademark funny phrase -- just like sitcoms in days of yore where one character had the same funny line in every single episode!
Here is our conversation:
Me: Papa, have some challah.
Dad: (chomp chomp) Why is it so sweet? (laughtrack)
Me: Papa, it's supposed to be sweet, it's challah.
Dad: Did you add sugar to it? (laughtrack)
Me: Of course I did (laughtrack), challah needs to be a little sweet.
Dad: It's too sweet.Challah isn't supposed to be sweet.
Me: Ok, Dad. (laughtrack)
So back to dinner. For ages now I have been an uberlame friend. I keep telling people lovely things I make for dinner and say 'ooh, next time I'll make it, you need to come over.' Of course, I never invited anyone over. I don't know why but as soon as the idea got into my head to invite someone over I went into ultra-panic mode. What will I make, I need to clean my apartment, my kitchen's too small, what will we do when dinner's over?? I overthink things soooo much! I get the trait from my mom and sister, we are worriers, big-time worriers.
So I felt I needed to nip this annoying quality of mine in the bud and invite someone over for pete's sake. That someone was Daniel. I've known Daniel for almost seven years now which means he knows my quirks (he thinks they're charming) and insecurities. So I felt at ease with him being my first ever guest. He is vegetarian (not that there's anything wrong with that) so I decided the menu would be Nigella's Mushroom Sandwich and her Pasta Primavera. The first is from How to Eat, and the second from Feast.
I did most of the preparations for the pasta primavera before Daniel arrived as it could be eaten cold or at room-temperature. I decided to do the mushrooms when he got in as it is to be eaten straight away. Basically it involves stemming portabello mushrooms, putting them cap-side down on a baking tray, spreading softened butter on the insides with some minced garlic and chopped parsley. Then they go into a 400ºF oven for 20 minutes. They are placed on buns smeared with dijon mustard and a few lettuce leaves and that's it, Bob's your uncle. I have no idea what that expression means but I like it a lot. I don't even have an Uncle Bob. :)
Mushroom Sandwich - How to Eat (Nigella Lawson)
The mushroom sandwich/burgers got three big thumbs up! It was soft and full of flavor; absolutely fantastic!! Even my meat-lusting husband liked it! I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I paired it with potato chips to brainwash him into thinking he was in a pub drinking beer and eating the juiciest burger in creation! I know, wifey is smart!. He didn't think much of the pasta primavera though. He said, 'it's not his thing', which is Rafa-speak for 'I didn't like it.' For the record, I made the pasta thing before, and he did like it, just for the record you understand.
So that's one successful entertaining night down... I hope to entertain much much more because I have 175 recipes I need to cook starting in 9 days, and I don't plan on eating all of them by myself. Then the blog will have to be called 'When Beached Whale Met Pantry'.
Yesterday, I discussed the 'entertaining' night with my sister. Our running joke is that I never provide enough details of anything I do so she literally needs to pull this information out of me. All I told her was that the night was 'good' and 'Daniel and Rafa liked what I made'. A vast difference you see between my literary life and my real life. And now you understand why I don't have any friends, ha!
I did tell her what our father said about the challah. She pointed out to me that he was right, that the challah in Israel, where we grew up, was not as sweet as the challah in America. Well don't I feel like the fucking asshole.* So I think next time I'll put less sugar in the challah, LOL, just for authenticity's sake.
*I do often mind my P's and Q's, and not to mention my F's, A's and S's, but this was a direct quote from A Few Good Men said by none other than Jack Nicholson. Only Jack Nicholson can say a line like that and make it memorable! (For the record, I can't stand the guy so this will NOT be an Oh-my-god-I-heart-Jack-Nicholson type of blog.)
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