...I am my mother after all.
God certainly has a sense of humor. After years of professing a non-commitment to all things domestic, I want nothing more than the title domestic goddess. Who gets the largest thrill from this turn of events? Not my husband who I told ‘if you want someone who cooks look elsewhere’ but my mother who listened to it all as she served a homemade gourmet meal each day. Her efforts went unappreciated and unnoticed until I left for college and realized that the fresh balsamic vinaigrette was nothing like gluey Italian dressing from a bottle, and that her pasta with halibut tasted nothing like a Lean Cuisine. Fast forward many years, I have cooked up and eaten my share of crow. At this stage, I love to watch my mother sit at my breakfast bar and nurse a gin martini as I prepare a dinner for her to enjoy. After a nice break, I have taken Just Bring Wine on the road to prepare a great meal for my parents and dear friends up north. New Jersey north. Our menu:
Spicy Deviled Eggs
Green Olive Tapenade with Goat Cheese and Baguette
Arugula and Fennel Salad
Gruyere Cheese and Bacon Muffins
Roasted Chicken with Sautéed Corn
Red Velvet Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting
My nerves exist on several levels; these are my parents so it feels a bit like report card day. Also, this is the first party that I will prepare without my sous chef husband or Food Intolerance by my side. However, my parents do have a dream kitchen and they did love me in high school when I dyed my hair platinum. They should make it through anything.