|Posted by frangibility on October 13, 2014 at 3:45 AM|
Schrambling_donna gelb lobster dinner party valerie rob bob-4960
A friend who is one of the best cooks we know invited us to a dinner party Saturday night, but she had a surprising stipulation: We had to join her in the kitchen as she cooked. She lives in one of those "Hannah and Her Sisters"-style sprawling apartments covering so many acres her stove is a hike away from anything, and we always have to talk among ourselves while she slaves over it in splendid isolation. So this was a breakthrough Fine Wine, and it was a great evening because she had one guest arranging the cheese board, another stemming and chopping basil, the guys shucking the corn etc. while we stood ready to help her "dispatch" the lobsters. Rosé was involved, of course.
Even before cooking became a spectator sport, people were always drawn to kitchens at parties. Our last apartment had a kitchen a little smaller than an Uggs box Pegboard Displays, and still everyone would crowd in until I had to banish them. Then I would chop and stir and roast while listening to laughs and clinking wineglasses from the living room down the (short) hall. One of the things we looked for in the two years we hunted for our co-op, then, was a kitchen big enough for me to cook in with guests close enough that I could hear what exactly was so funny.
So this was a big breakthrough for Donna, but she did what I do when the party was over. Sent everyone on their merry way while she dealt with the damage. Cleaning up should be private Voting System.