The main thing to accomplish for The Child's Sweet 16 party was her cake. Which she envisioned in her chosen colors (chocolate brown and pink). Polka dots were involved. Despite my noteworthy stint as Worst Mother in the World, she seems to believe I can do anything. Like make a cake worthy of Duff Goldman. 'Cept the truth be told, I can barely ice a cake without embarrassing myself. (Reason number 13 Why I Love Pie: You don't have to ice it). But The Child, you see, wanted fondant. I knew exactly what she had in her head. I could see it, too. Just not so much with the execution. Also, I worked with fondant maybe a dozen years ago, in an effort to make "ribbons" for a cake for my parents' 40th wedding anniversary or something like that. And I had help. And it was just a decorative touch, not the entire set piece. Are you getting the picture?

First thing I did was buy fondant. I've made it. It can be made. But really, why would you when someone else has done the work already? That's right. And the woman who was selling the fondant had some in very hot pink. Which could be muted with some of the pure white fondant, thus saving me not so much time (still had to knead the stuff) but mess (like when I had to dye AND knead the brown fondant).

Here's the fondant in its larval state:

And this is how the pink turned out. Much toned down, right?



My original plan was just to cover each layer in fondant, decorate with the requested polka dots and let it go at that. The first layer of brown fondant was easy enough. But when it came to covering the round layers I was suddenly confronted with engineering issues. Like, how do you make the fondant all straight and flush to the cake when what it wants naturally to do is drape?

Well, if you're anything like me and you really don't have time to research the problem, you use your imagination. Hey! That looks like a skirt, doesn't it? A few polka dots, a nice bow at the back...

From a distance, and with plenty of distracting gee gawgery, it didn't look half bad.

Labels: entertaining, party planning, pie, The Child

Things have been relatively quiet around the Casa social calendar-wise. And then everything exploded.

While I was sitting in my Parent Board meeting The Child came in to announce that the 7th grade will be performing salsa at the Spring Concert.

"What Spring Concert?" I asked.

"The one tomorrow night", came the blithe reply.

Are you frakking kidding me?

Here's a run-down of the current calendar for the next little bit.

Tonight - Stupid meeting of the 7th grade parents (more on that in a sec)

Friday - Frakkety frakking Spring Concert

Saturday - Lie very, very low and don't move.

Sunday - Father's Day + church + I have to spend a couple hours at school with the other board members moving all our stuff out of a supply closet that we just found out is going to be taken over by a new computer system.

Monday - help set-up for graduation reception (something the 7th grade does for the 8th). I'm going to be there from 3-6 setting up. The Child has to hang until...wait for it...10 frakking p.m. Guess who has to pick her up?

Tuesday - Lie very, very low and don't move, except to coordinate details and plan menus for the rest of the week because:

Wednesday - end-of-the-year school picnic

Thursday - Ministries dinner at church (have to bring a salad for 8)

Friday - sleep-over baby shower for Seattle Coffee Girl (including an elegant little supper for 6 or 7)

Saturday - Summer Solstice feast

Sunday - Final Parent Board meeting

And then there are 4 days to pack and get hair cuts and what-not before we leave for Chicago on Friday.

I need a tablet.

So the meeting tonight. First, you need to understand that the parents of The Child's class have not historically distinguished themselves as go-getters. There are some parents who have been involved with various projects but after 3 years, I don't even know probably half of the folks. They show up for Curriculum Night in September and that's the last you see of them.

Right, so a meeting has been called to review our role for graduation (fine) and to start discussing fundraising for next year so that the kids can take their 8th grade trip to...wait for it...New York and D.C.

On one hand, this is a very impressive thing. I really didn't think we'd get our act together enough to manage anything more than a trip to Ballard. I am very impressed that a couple of parents, neither of whom are moi, have stepped up to get us organized.

That said, I happen to know for a fact that they are going to propose that our fundraising strategy should involve working a stand at Safeco field.

There are manifold problems with this idea, imho.

1) It's a complete headache. You need 20 people to staff a booth; 20 people who are willing to give up 9-10 hours of an evening or weekend. Parent Association has done if for a couple of years and we're not next year because it is such a pain in the arse.

2) It's one of those things that sounds good on paper. If you have a full complement of people you get paid $1200 plus any profits. But if it's a light staff, at $60/head, it can end up being a lot of hours for very little return.

c) Some people, such as moi ,are just not going to sign up. I'll tell you that right now. There is no way in the world I am going to work any Safeco games to send a bunch of 14-year-olds to the eastern seaboard.

Add to all that, I don't think it is the responsibility of the parents to raise all the funds for this expedition. Good lord, even this morning The Child said, "Well, Mommy, I really think that if we want to go to New York we should be the ones raising the money".

Damn straight, my little chickadee! She said I could quote her. I so am.

Now, I'm not going to go to the meeting and tell them that Safeco is a stupid idea. If they think enough parents will be happy to do it and they want to organize it, that's just dandy. More power to them. But I will make a case for there being avenues for parents who can't or won't do Safeco to aid the cause. And then I'm going to bring up the whole kids-having-ownership thing and then, just because I'm so superfantastic, I'm going to volunteer to be the one who sits down with the kids at the beginning of the year to brainstorm a slate of fundraisers, develop a calendar and marketing plan and generally engage the little beggars in raising their own bloody money.

And if that plan goes over, just between us, I'm also going to be keeping very close tabs on who is involved and to what degree. Because I can tell you right now there are entirely too many kids in that class who have quite the sense of entitlement and are very good at standing in the shadows while others do the heavy lifting, stepping out just in time to take all the credit. That is so not happening on my watch. Bwahahaha.

On the other hand, I'm so volunteering to chaperon the little darlings should all this come to fruition. New York and DC? Hello? I'm so there!

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On the Happy Happy Joy Joy front, things are moving ahead on the food blog. I finally have a name that I'm pleased with, JP is going to design my banner and The Hat is doing the artwork. I've been busy copying some of my old food posts into the new space so that there will be some stuff there when I launch. It's become quite the little project but I'm excited about it. I even, at JP's suggestion, registered the .com and .net domain names for the title. This is going to be a nice little way of keeping mommy off the streets and out of trouble. I'm thinking I'll open 'er up for business next week sometime. I'll keep you posted.

Labels: coffee, crazy week, food blog, party planning

I'm not a meteorologist. I guess that's why I can't understand a weather report that says, "Partly cloudy with a chance of showers this morning, turning to partly sunny and a chance of showers this afternoon".

The Neighbor and I planned my 50th birthday party last night. It will be...wait for it...a French bistro theme. You did not see that coming, did you? It will be superfantastic. You're all invited. We also worked on a Rat Pack themed party for The Spouse the following month. We did that for his 40th and it was really fun. I suppose I should have run that by him before I told you but hopefully he won't mind. You're all invited to that one, too.

The Child thinks 50 is old. Funny. Because this morning I heard a birthday announcement for some musician who played with the likes of Bob Dylan. He was 66 and I thought, "Wow. That's young". Guess it's more of that partly cloudy/partly sunny thing.

I've never had a crisis around what my friend Pat calls "the speed limit" birthdays. You know, the ones that could be posted on a street sign. I was thrilled about turning 30 because it meant that no one could ever again get away with telling me I wasn't old enough to do/say whatever. I maybe hadn't yet experienced all life has to offer but hey, I was 30. That's a grown-up.

40 didn't freak me out at all. I've noticed that the people who are bothered the most by an age like that aren't really satisfied with where they are in life. By the time you're 40 you expect to have "done something" with your life. I was happy in my marriage, I had a kid, a house, pursuits that interested me. I'd been to England and France. And New York - twice. There was nothing to complain about.

50 feels the same way, only more so. Going into 50 I'll be able to say that I've been published. I'll have a job I like (still don't know what that is but I'll have one). Maybe by the time I turn 50 I'll have a pygmy goat and have learned to make chevre (that's on my list of life time goals). I still feel as young as I ever did, just more confident. Plus, when I look at women like Oprah, Helen Mirren, Susan Sarandon, or Diane Keaton I think, "Oh, yeah. Older looks good".

Hence, my 50th celebration will be just that - a celebration. Anyone showing up with black balloons or "over the hill" cards will be summarily dismissed from the festivities. I hate those people.

So anyway, back to the party. We'll have apertif and dinner over at The Neighbor's. She's going to hire an accordion player. Then we'll go to our house for cake and karaoke. I realize the later isn't particularly French but I like doing karaoke and it's my birthday. Then at midnight, when I officially turn 50, we'll drink champagne. Won't that be fun?

Labels: aperitif, birthday, party planning, weather

We have always entertained and, though I say it myself, we've become rather good at it. Our early entertainments were always pleasing, at least to the degree that the food was always good. But over the years we have learned that there is more to entertaining than good food.

The most important lesson is that the comfort of our guests is of primary importance. Serving good food is more or less a given. But being present to our guests is primary. We've learned this the hard way: the Christmas I don't remember because I was in the kitchen all night, the times when the testiness level between The Spouse and I was palpable to our guests. (Really, it is terribly bad form to fight with your spouse during a dinner party, even if he or she deserves it).

Creating an event that will ultimately please the guests and preserve the sanity of the hosts hinges on a few basic principles. The first is planning a menu that delivers excellent flavor with minimum effort. There was a time I would plan a feast around the most elaborate dishes I could find, mistakenly believing that I had to serve the equivalent of gilded peacock to please my guests. (Not that some of them wouldn't be delighted by such a display. Tim.) Entertaining isn't a a time to show off. It is gratifying to hear guests ooh and ahh but simple food, lovingly prepared and generously presented accomplish the same end.

Once the menu is established we plan. We look through all the recipes and figure out how much can be done in advance. Today for example, I will be preparing the soup course and part of the salad course. The Spouse will begin work on the sauce for the entree. That's really all there is to do but these steps will save us a lot of aggravation tomorrow.

Aggravation. When I think of the early feasts, of the way in which The Spouse and I had to compete for space in our phone booth sized apartment kitchen I'm amazed our marriage even survived our entertainments. We have very different cooking styles and we still don't necessarily have a corner on synchronicity. But if we have planned together we mitigate a lot of the tension that builds from our stylistic differences. We figure out who needs to be in the kitchen when, doing what in order to serve each course at its appointed time. It's not unlike the Joint Chiefs planning a military operation:

"Right. At 1300 hours F company will commence smelting of the gold. By 1500 hours S company will have plucked the peacock and pre-cooked the cardoons. Gilding will proceed at 1530, with radish rose carving to be carried out by 1700. Minstrals must be assembled by 1900 and bird will be piped precisely at 1930. Destination, head table, east by southeast. Are there any questions? Fall out!"

Meanwhile, I have to give snaps to my homegirl, Flylady, for removing my biggest source of tension around entertaining. There was a time when I suspected that the only reason I entertained so often was because it forced me to clean the bathroom. I was always scrambling to get the house "ready for company", sometimes up to the last minute, which usually involved a lot of yelling at other people and telling them to move their butts. Unless I just did the martyred slow burn. But I've finally figured out that we deserve to live in a house that's company ready. I'm no longer quite the slave to perfection I once was. I've realized that my guests don't care if there is a stray cobweb in the room. If I am at ease, they are at ease and that is the most important gift I can give them.

The Child has no school today so we slept in. Which was lovely but I'd best hasten out to collect provisions for tomorrow. Peacocks are notoriously difficult to catch.

Labels: Flylady, gilded peacocks, party planning