Saturday Night Fever

No cooking to report - we went to a party! It was a 50th for someone we know through Kid 1's sport (which, as I have reported many times, is excessive by anyone's standards, especially mine).

It was fun, but as Spouse commented during our Sunday morning party post mortem, it felt more like a 21st. Not because we were all young and gorgeous, but because the speeches (emailed from the UK, where Mr 50 comes from) were all focused on the hijinx and hilarity of university days.

The anecdotes were funny, but it was strange that nobody - not even the party man himself - mentioned anything about his life now. He is married to a fabulous woman, has two lovely kids, and a stack of friends who don't come from the UK or share that past.

I'm as prone to nostalgia as anyone, but when I hit the big FIVE OH, I want to be celebrating my life NOW, not trying to relive my youth. When I do get to 50, Kid 1 will turn 21, and Kid 2 will be 18, so it's going to be a serious year of parties ... something to look forward to!

Saturday Night Fever

Last night was my MIL's birthday party. There were about 30 adults and 7 children (who made more noise than all the adults combined, of course), all of whom had a lovely time, as far as I could tell. I did spend the first hour or so of the party in the kitchen, but it was very simple stuff and I'd done most of the prep well in advance, so it wasn't at all onerous.

The menu was:

Gougeres (yes, I love these, especially because you can make them in advance, freeze and then pop straight in the oven)
Pork & veal meatballs
Chicken meatballs
A variety of tartlets - smoked trout & creme fraiche; herbed ricotta; slow roasted cherry tomatoes
Water chestnuts wrapped in bacon and grilled (a surprise hit)
Cucumbers stuffed with crab and pickled ginger with a dipping sauce

My SIL made a chocolate cake with ganache and I also made lemon curd tartlets and marzipan fruit (at MIL's request).

Phoebe served food wearing a smocked apron and an angelic expression; Holden mostly allowed himself to be tortured by all the tiny cousins (he's almost 13; they're all 5 and under and think he's a toy). This is him doing a Zoolander expression ('Magnum', I believe).




Today is Mother's Day so I am refusing to cook dinner (coq au riesling) but I suspect I may end up giving a hand ...