Speaking of dinner parties! For many years, I had this habit of inviting people over for dinner and then planning elaborate, multi-part feasts that would require me to spend hours and hours in the kitchen while everyone else hung out in the living room, starving. I tend to get a little nervous about hosting, and I appreciated the built-in escape during awkward moments – which, when I am around, there are many! This system worked for me, mostly. Despite some delays I would inevitably emerge from the kitchen, triumphant and covered in flour, with four distinct and “innovative” homemade pizzas, or whatever similarly labor-intensive dish I’d made. I would bully people into profusely complimenting me and then, at long last, we’d all eat. I got praise; my friends got fed – everyone was happy!
Then, last fall, my mom came to New York to celebrate her birthday, with my aunt and my sister in tow. I had just moved into a new apartment and was excited to show it off, so I thought it would be nice to have everyone over for a lavish birthday feast. As the clock ticked down to the dinner party, the guest list grew and grew. The more people who were slated to attend, the more ambitious I got. Ultimately, I ended up with about 12 attendees and a menu consisting of a delicious but complicated seeming menu of fancy enchiladas (recipe courtesy of Saveur) followed by Lottie + Doof’s gorgeous chocolate juniper cake with milk jam. I don’t remember what I served for appetizers, but I do remember sending my sister’s boyfriend out on a hunt for “one stale bun,” which, winningly, he scrounged up.