FYI - It is, in fact, possible to become tired of cherries.
The activity level is ratcheting up (as if it ever ceases) here at the Hot Water Bath homestead. We've invited about 30 people over for cocktails on Friday, somehow neglecting to notice that this is only three days after returning home from the Little Diva's Baptism in Philadelphia. There is laundry everywhere, gifts piled up to be organized and documented for thank you notes, groceries to put away (we hit the Ardmore Trader Joe's before heading back), yardwork to finish and food to prepare. Clearly, we are insane and must be committed as we dangerous to ourselves. This will, however, have to wait until Saturday morning at the earliest.
I've decided that I will serve absolutely nothing that I cannot make tomorrow and save for Friday or that can't be slapped together Friday afternoon. It's been well into the 80s here, with humidity approaching 100% (strangely, there's been little rain) and I refuse to make anything requiring me to heat my stove for any length of time.
So here's the menu: olives/stuffed grape leaves/roasted peppers/pickled veggies, cheeses and fruit on chilled marble, cream puffs (made tomorrow) with curried tuna or pate, skewers of grilled marinated veggies (made tomorrow and served room temp), pickled shrimp and steamed mussels (mussels from the grill, shrimp to be made tonight), blue and white chips with black bean and corn salsa (made tonight) and tomatilla salsa (canned), spicy meatballs (in a chafing dish), melon wrapped in Bayonne ham. If I have time and people look hungry, I'll make some variety of crostini.
For drinks, I'm planning to keep it simple: sangria, beer, iced tea and French sodas. I always say I'm going to offer only a limited bar, but then I cave and put out a full selection of liquors and mixings only to have to clean it all up again, untouched. If I cave again on Friday you have my permission to slap me upside the head next time you see me. Seriously.
The activity level is ratcheting up (as if it ever ceases) here at the Hot Water Bath homestead. We've invited about 30 people over for cocktails on Friday, somehow neglecting to notice that this is only three days after returning home from the Little Diva's Baptism in Philadelphia. There is laundry everywhere, gifts piled up to be organized and documented for thank you notes, groceries to put away (we hit the Ardmore Trader Joe's before heading back), yardwork to finish and food to prepare. Clearly, we are insane and must be committed as we dangerous to ourselves. This will, however, have to wait until Saturday morning at the earliest.
I've decided that I will serve absolutely nothing that I cannot make tomorrow and save for Friday or that can't be slapped together Friday afternoon. It's been well into the 80s here, with humidity approaching 100% (strangely, there's been little rain) and I refuse to make anything requiring me to heat my stove for any length of time.
So here's the menu: olives/stuffed grape leaves/roasted peppers/pickled veggies, cheeses and fruit on chilled marble, cream puffs (made tomorrow) with curried tuna or pate, skewers of grilled marinated veggies (made tomorrow and served room temp), pickled shrimp and steamed mussels (mussels from the grill, shrimp to be made tonight), blue and white chips with black bean and corn salsa (made tonight) and tomatilla salsa (canned), spicy meatballs (in a chafing dish), melon wrapped in Bayonne ham. If I have time and people look hungry, I'll make some variety of crostini.
For drinks, I'm planning to keep it simple: sangria, beer, iced tea and French sodas. I always say I'm going to offer only a limited bar, but then I cave and put out a full selection of liquors and mixings only to have to clean it all up again, untouched. If I cave again on Friday you have my permission to slap me upside the head next time you see me. Seriously.
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