Now that I am over The Barman, the Actress and the Prostitute, I’m ready to tell you about the party.
But because some of you had concerns and questions, I will tell you that the Barman is back at uni, the Actress is alive and well (actually unwell) and the Prostitute is up to her usual tricks (pun intended).
I did have a consoling conversation with the Actress’s mother about the trials and tribulations of bringing up a teenager who seems to only want to learn life’s lessons the hard way. I think I could relate. Anyway, it’s all in the history books now and what a well documented book it is – no thanks to the powers of blogging.
Anyway, the party was a sit-down dinner for 38 pretty little things with straightened hair, spray tans and French-polished nails wearing the shortest of dresses and the highest of heels.
The birthday princess had been quite determined with what she did and didn’t want and told her mother she wanted an Italian feast with platters of antipasto, two types of pasta, store-bought pizzas and salads.
Now the mother of the princess has a fear of the kitchen and panics if she so much as has to feed the dog. The thought of 38 sitting down for bowls of pasta was almost enough to cause her a serious coronary episode and so I was given an ‘SOS Mayday Mayday’ phone call and beetled around to see how I could help. ‘How many people can you normally cook pasta for?’
‘Four. About five if my other daughter comes home for dinner’.
‘Do you have a big saucepan?’
‘I’m not sure’.
‘Right. Pasta’s quite difficult to cook for a crowd without a commercial kitchen so can we do something else? What about trays of lasagne? We could cook them in advance, then just re-heat…’
‘No. Her mind’s made up and she says it’s her party and she wants a vegetarian pasta and a prawn pasta and I’m stressing but she says I’m silly for stressing because there’s nothing to it. ‘It’s just pasta’, she said to me.’
‘What about dessert?
‘She’s ordering an ice cream cake. Something that looks like a Bombe Alaska’.
‘Will it feed 40 people?’
‘She said that’s irrelevant because no one will eat it anyway. She said it’s all about the drinks and we’re not to run out because that would be social suicide and can we make sure we have the dinner over with by 9pm so that then the real party can begin’.
‘So nobody’s going to eat at this party?’
‘Nobody. She said none of the girls eat anything anyway; hallf of them are anorexic. The food is just a procedure to get through then it’s on with the party’.
At the end of the meeting I had agreed to buy the flowers and decorate the tables, buy everything for the antipasto platters, chosen a theme colour of two different shades of pink, invited Carl to be on camera, and said I would bring over my glass jars, a salad bowl and two tablecloths.
I marinated mushrooms for the antipasto platters and they were sensational and easy to do and I’m going to make more for the upcoming festive season. Do give them a try.
I arrived at the party an hour before it was due to start and helped with the setting up and made a big batch of vegetarian pasta that we put in a huge roasting dish covered with foil that we put in the oven to keep warm. I put together the antipasto platters and then said I would make the salads. The salads were to be rocket, pear and parmesan and I’d love to show you a photo but there was a slight situ in that the host had forgotten to buy the rocket so salads had to be scratched from the menu.
The barman arrived and so did the actress but we’re not going to talk any more about them and then some other girls walked in teetering in their shoes and so we started passing around the platters and within about half an hour all 38 girls were sitting up at the table. I said to my friend, ‘Have you ordered the pizzas?’
‘No’, she said, ‘the princess doesn’t want dinner served until 7.30′.
‘But they’re all sitting up. And they look like they’re about to start banging their knives and forks on the table. They’re starving’.
‘Where’s that princess? She told me none of them would eat anything.’
‘They’ve polished off those platters; there’s not so much as an olive left. And the barman’s got nothing to do; they’re not drinking’.
We quickly sliced up a few bread sticks and smothered them in cream cheese with some smoked salmon on top with a little lemon and took those out to the tables. And that was supposed to be dinner for those of us working in the kitchen. The host quickly ordered the pizzas and I started making the prawn, spinach and pine nut penne pasta.
The pizzas arrived and we took them out to the tables and the eight pizzas were wolfed down. We took the two pastas out and there wasn’t a morsel left. Then we had to take that tiny ice cream cake out to the table and I managed to cut it into the thinnest slithers you have ever seen and fortunately the host had bought some cupcakes that were supposed to be for later but we did an alternate serve and everyone managed to enjoy something.
The moral of the story is clearly that teenagers have no clue and in as much as they think they know what they’re doing when it comes to organising a function they should never be listened to. Whippet-thin teenage girls do want to eat especially if boys aren’t invited, the food is pretty much vegetarian and they know they’re invited to a sit-down dinner.
But I have to say, I had a very fun night and it was wonderful to be invited.