So, the economy. Smacked us in our asses, too. We are budgeting like the wind. We are born-again Costco shoppers.
Did you know they sell really, really big hunks of meat at Costco?
Mali was "helping" me with pre-party house prep. After the picture was taken, she stashed this broom. It took us 24 hours to find it.
Hunks big enough that were one to be in possession of, say, an industrial oven that was bought on the cheap for a dream house that never materialized, one could talk twelve friends (and friends of friends) into an experimental gourmet potluck dinner by promising them at least a pound of restaurant-quality rib-eye roast, for a per-person investment of only six dollars?
Points to anyone who can name this china pattern.
It's all true. And while I found the roast to be a notch or two below the epiphanic rib-eye steaks (also Costco) that Jennyalice, Seymour, Descartes, and I enjoyed on Valentine's Day, I thought it worth the investment. I hope our guests agreed.
And I hope we do it again. Because -- damn -- people can cook! The appetizers, salads, sides, wine, and desserts gave me indefinite fodder for happy foodie daydreams.
What did we do with our kids, you may ask? Well, few of us monkey-tenders have extra babysitting cash, and many of us have quirky monkeys who are not always restaurant-friendly anyhow. Why not feed the monkeys pizza and then let Homer Simpson be their babysitter while the adults eat the human food?
Scoff if you will, but my kids know the difference between satire (Simpsons) and parody (Weird Al). Do yours?
Ideally. Leelo is not a pizza-eater or a Simpsons-watcher, so Seymour, Sage, Jennyalice (blessed, all), & I took turns hanging with him during the dinner. The other kids were happy to enter TV trances.
Were we to have another side-of-beef feast, I would likely get a sitter just for Leelo. But we have had other dinner parties, smaller dinner parties, Costco-fueled dinner parties, babysitter-free dinner parties; parties in which our friends with the quirkiest, Leelo-bracket kids have brought said kids along and put them to sleep in the guest room after kiddie dinner, and we adults have enjoyed late but happily kid-free dinners and apertifs:
Yaar, they be gripping the Green Fairy.
And then we all get to wake up the next day and have a happy happy multi-family morning:
Note that last night's sidecar fixings are still on the counter.
So, if you're like us: looking for a good time, don't want to pay for babysitting, can't really take your kids out anyhow; or if you just can't pass up an opportunity to knaw on some damn fine meat, you know who to call.
(P.S. I've not linked to the mostly bloggity-blogger attendees so as to not stand on their shoulders.)