Cinco de Mayo: A night of food, pajamas, and laughing until you cry.
Prep began early Wednesday morning with empanada dough and chocolate cookies. Determined to overcome my foul mood, I sipped coffee, made last minute trips to the store, grated cheeses, and chopped onions. As the air filled with the smell of baked chocolate, and slow roasting pork, a familiar spirit met with a more relaxed attitude and I decided that I was going to have a great party.
The empanadas were a bit more labor intensive than I had hoped, but once constructed, looked fantastic. I was excited to gather guests opinions, and to try them myself for that matter. A few hours later I heated the deep fryer as pajama clad friends arrived and traded bottles of wine (or in one case grape flavored vodka) for a plate of hot appetizers. As we munched and talked, the empanadas appeared to be a hit. When our final guest arrived dressed in PJ’s and carrying a teddy bear, it seemed time to move on to the entree.
I either need a bigger breakfast bar or more compliant friends. Despite my requests and mere begs to take plates into the family room where all could lounge comfortably, friends insisted on grabbing a stool or standing at the bar. The pulled pork tacos were a bit over powered with the flavor of cinnamon for my taste, however guests seemed to enjoy them; all but one who insisted it was not the cinnamon but the cumin. Few returned for seconds, however they assured me that it was not due to inferior tacos but an over consumption of appetizers.
After clearing the dinner plates, I presented a large bowl of cookies and vanilla ice cream which allowed the meal to continue in a casual and relaxed manner. Perhaps it was the cayenne pepper, but the evening sillies seemed to increase during the dessert course and involved everything from the differences between black and BAlack, to gender reassignment surgery. It was not long before the subtle giggles of cocktail hour broke way to the exhaustive laughter that takes ones breath away.
The late hours approached, and guests decided to make use of their PJ’s and head home to their respected beds. However, these goodbyes took cue from the evening events; walking down the porch steps, one guest declared his preference to sleeping nude, one yelled ‘a delicious meal, just too much cumin!’ and finally, one guest performed the thriller routine on the sidewalk.
Is the burnout cured?
The original Taco Tuesday was my fifth party; the blog was new and the end seemed a lifetime away. As I reached party #25, 32, and had the disappointment of #36 my focus turned more to the project’s end than its completion. I began to think about, and, get more excited for future projects seeing the remaining parties as mere obstacles. The truth is, I am finally forced to finish something. Unlike the two novels I started, worked on for a year and abandoned. For the first time, I am accountable for completing my own venture. I’m in unknown waters....luckily I have some great friends who are not only willing to share the ride, but always offer a glass of wine.
Empanadas: These were fantastic, and though labor intensive, not fundamentally difficult. The next time you have friends over for Mexican, I encourage you to whip up a batch. Pair them with a more easy project like enchiladas.
The Party in Numbers:
Parties Completed: 37
Weeks Before Deadline: 17
Bottles of Wine Consumed: 3
Justified Purchases: zero!