So the house party was over the day it began...but I'm only writing about it now because I'm just that lazy. The weather has been rather uninspiring as well. It's been mostly cold and rainy, with sudden bursts of sunshine that disappear as quickly as they come. It is the sunshine that spurs me on but unfortunately, it is the sunshine that also dries the laundry.
Wow I'm such an old lady.
Anyway, let's get on with the house party! So the day before I made all these big plans for managing the cooking and cleaning and setting up the house and all that before the guests arrived. But in the end that's all they were - plans.
You know the saying, 'The best laid plans of mice and men...'? Yeah, I don't know how that saying ends exactly but I know people always use it when their plans don't work out.
I was to make about 5 dishes in all, because I knew too much about my guests' preferences and yet didn't know enough. For instance, I knew one of them only ate chicken, and yet another ate all kinds of meat but only on certain days of the week. So I decided that making a little of everything would be less trouble than finding out what kind of diet everyone would be following that day.
So the plan was to make 3 (side) dishes the night before, and 2 (main) dishes the next morning. Needless to say, though, I did no such thing. I was so tired from cleaning and re-cleaning every inch of the house my vacuum cleaner could reach, that by midnight I was struggling to chew my dinner and just wanted to pass out.
That plan didn't work out that way, either.
The hubby and I stayed up for another hour or so just chopping onions and tomatoes and whatever else needed to be chopped. Like I mentioned in my last post, I was cooking for a mob, so yes, it took a little over an hour just to do that.
Then I passed out.
I was up early by my standards the next morning, getting straight into the cooking, sans breakfast.
I should probably mention at this point that I have a tendency to get a little neurotic when I feel like I have too much to do.
But to my pleasant surprise, I was done with 3 of 5 dishes within a few hours! Achievement, I thought. Take a break now and you can finish the rest later, I thought.
Big mistake.
The last two dishes I had left were both mains, and each would be inedible without the other. Okay, not inedible, but it wouldn't be a proper meal. Depending heavily on my multi-tasking skills coming into play, I set out to finish everything with time to spare.
Ah, optimism.
Both dishes were such that their methods required constant supervision, and leaving either one for more than, say 30 seconds would either burn or overcook them. Don't be fooled into thinking I'm a kitchen maestro now to know how to cook anything the perfect amount - I still have no clue. I just didn't want the chicken to turn to charcoal and the rice to turn to gravy.
With just over an hour left to arrival, I was running about in all possible directions just trying to get everything done in time. In the end all I had left to do was steam the rice and make myself presentable.
I felt like I was in a sitcom because just as I switched the stove to medium and began walking up the stairs, the doorbell rang. And here I am in my, let's say, most presentable set of pj's? Conveniently, hubby was out at this point doing a quick run to get some soft drinks. I couldn't even sneak upstairs and change quickly because this house is so old and creaky that it practically speaks to people outside and tells them what everyone inside is up to.
So I did what I had to and opened the door. The two people who had arrived then either didn't think my pj's were pj's or were just too nice to say anything about them. I'm going to assume it's the latter.
Pretty soon everyone else arrived as well, and after a little bit of chit chat, dinner was served (early). I hadn't really seen that coming, so thanks to that, we all had some biryani that was a little...crunchy.
Yep, while I was running around fearing it might overcook, I actually ended up serving it slightly undercooked. Oh, well.
As for the company, I was afraid the two other ladies in attendance would have a difficult time conversing considering one was born and brought up here while the other struggles a little to hold a regular conversation in plain English. But that worked out, too - turns out they both had the same mother tongue and just kept talking to each other...while I understood nothing. Not that I minded or anything.
I think it went pretty alright though, considering it was my first attempt at being a hostess and all that. Definitely won't be doing it again for a very long time, though!
Thoughts?
Wow I'm such an old lady.
Anyway, let's get on with the house party! So the day before I made all these big plans for managing the cooking and cleaning and setting up the house and all that before the guests arrived. But in the end that's all they were - plans.
You know the saying, 'The best laid plans of mice and men...'? Yeah, I don't know how that saying ends exactly but I know people always use it when their plans don't work out.
I was to make about 5 dishes in all, because I knew too much about my guests' preferences and yet didn't know enough. For instance, I knew one of them only ate chicken, and yet another ate all kinds of meat but only on certain days of the week. So I decided that making a little of everything would be less trouble than finding out what kind of diet everyone would be following that day.
So the plan was to make 3 (side) dishes the night before, and 2 (main) dishes the next morning. Needless to say, though, I did no such thing. I was so tired from cleaning and re-cleaning every inch of the house my vacuum cleaner could reach, that by midnight I was struggling to chew my dinner and just wanted to pass out.
That plan didn't work out that way, either.
The hubby and I stayed up for another hour or so just chopping onions and tomatoes and whatever else needed to be chopped. Like I mentioned in my last post, I was cooking for a mob, so yes, it took a little over an hour just to do that.
Then I passed out.
I was up early by my standards the next morning, getting straight into the cooking, sans breakfast.
I should probably mention at this point that I have a tendency to get a little neurotic when I feel like I have too much to do.
But to my pleasant surprise, I was done with 3 of 5 dishes within a few hours! Achievement, I thought. Take a break now and you can finish the rest later, I thought.
Big mistake.
The last two dishes I had left were both mains, and each would be inedible without the other. Okay, not inedible, but it wouldn't be a proper meal. Depending heavily on my multi-tasking skills coming into play, I set out to finish everything with time to spare.
Ah, optimism.
Both dishes were such that their methods required constant supervision, and leaving either one for more than, say 30 seconds would either burn or overcook them. Don't be fooled into thinking I'm a kitchen maestro now to know how to cook anything the perfect amount - I still have no clue. I just didn't want the chicken to turn to charcoal and the rice to turn to gravy.
With just over an hour left to arrival, I was running about in all possible directions just trying to get everything done in time. In the end all I had left to do was steam the rice and make myself presentable.
I felt like I was in a sitcom because just as I switched the stove to medium and began walking up the stairs, the doorbell rang. And here I am in my, let's say, most presentable set of pj's? Conveniently, hubby was out at this point doing a quick run to get some soft drinks. I couldn't even sneak upstairs and change quickly because this house is so old and creaky that it practically speaks to people outside and tells them what everyone inside is up to.
So I did what I had to and opened the door. The two people who had arrived then either didn't think my pj's were pj's or were just too nice to say anything about them. I'm going to assume it's the latter.
Pretty soon everyone else arrived as well, and after a little bit of chit chat, dinner was served (early). I hadn't really seen that coming, so thanks to that, we all had some biryani that was a little...crunchy.
Yep, while I was running around fearing it might overcook, I actually ended up serving it slightly undercooked. Oh, well.
As for the company, I was afraid the two other ladies in attendance would have a difficult time conversing considering one was born and brought up here while the other struggles a little to hold a regular conversation in plain English. But that worked out, too - turns out they both had the same mother tongue and just kept talking to each other...while I understood nothing. Not that I minded or anything.
I think it went pretty alright though, considering it was my first attempt at being a hostess and all that. Definitely won't be doing it again for a very long time, though!
Thoughts?
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