Fear and Loathing in Thanksgiving (or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Cold Food)
As a starting, blanket statement, I would like to thank all those who helped to make Thanksgiving at our house a success this year. I certainly wasn't among them, but I'd like to thank those who were.
That said, allow me to regale the rest of you with the events of Thanksgiving at the Ford House this year.
--
All right... so, after I tell you the whole story, I'll tell you what I've learned from it. Since I'm almost guaranteed to host another party at some point in the future, I should probably walk away from this with some knowledge.
Lemony Pledge's A Series of Unfortunate Events...
(alternately ... how many titular references can I throw into this LJ entry?)
Some of it was beyond our control. Bad weather hovering over Oklahoma City made many people want to stay at home. Nevertheless, Gail, Jeri, and I decided to host the party all the same.
We bought china and real silver. We bought napkins, a centerpiece, and all manner of pots, pans, and other cookery. And Gail did much research via the Internet as to what dishes she would like to serve. This, of course, was when we expected a party of eight plus the four of us.
That number did some major inflation, with the possibility of hosting up to and over 20 people at one point. But, as the days went on, those numbers deflated (most of the deflation was my supervisor, who was planning on coming, then planning on coming with two or three spontaneous guests on Saturday, and then ended up having to cancel because the 2-3 spontaneous guests became 8-10 spontaneous guests, and the logistics of getting that many people to an hour-away destination to which none of them had ever been became too great, and she had to rescind her offer of joining us), but the food only increased. Never can be too sure, after all. I'd say that between appetizers, food, and dessert, we probably managed to have 30 pounds of meat, 10 pounds of appetizer, 20 pounds of sides, and 10 pounds of desserts (or more). Clearly, we were planning on feeding an army.
Friday night and early Saturday morning were a feverish rush. I'll throw myself under the bus first by acknowledging that I did very little to help Gail or Jeri in the preparation of food. I washed dishes when asked, fixed the dessert I had prepared to make, and then pretty much avoided the kitchen at all costs.
That said, it was noon on Saturday when Jeri made the remark, "You think you're worried now? Try waiting until two or three o'clock with no guests showing up. Then you can be worried."
No sooner had the words been spoken than her daughter, Stephanie, came into the room with my cell phone. On it, a text message from my UCO professor and his wife. At this point, I would like to note that he'd been having medical problems as a result of an invasive surgical procedure he'd had done over the summer. Turns out they were both in the ER of OU Health & Science Center, and he was suffering from nausea and fever. Neither one of them would be able to make it by one (and, as it turns out later, neither one would be able to make it at all ... though it is interesting to be "morphine dialed" by your professor).
And then there were 12...
About that time, I chose to open my mouth and tell Gail that one of my former co-workers wasn't going to be able to make it until 6. And she was bringing the mashed potatoes. At that point, I was thrown under the bus again - and rightly so, for not choosing to avail anyone of this information until almost one o'clock - the official starting time of this dinner gala.
Shortly thereafter, I receive a phone call from one of my buddies from school. He'd turned down tickets to see the Bedlam game, in order to come to our dinner. However, as a result of the friend-from-out-of-town-who'd-flown-in-for-the-game being there sans vehicle, my friend had to drive the aforementioned other friend down to Norman, OK, to be able to watch the game, so he was going to be late.
Late. All the food was hot and ready by 1:30. And my friend from school was the first to arrive. At 2.
Now, had I known that my Midwest City local contingent of people would be delayed by work until 3-ish, I would have turned everyone loose to eat at 2. While things were still warm. I'll take another turn under the bus for that one.
Thankfully, they eventually showed up (mostly because I had them hunting around for an N64 cord so that we might play video games if people were interested), and we ate.
Food was cold. I had upset the Mrs. three times already, but she was still a good hostess, nevertheless. After dinner, there was a little mingling, before I decided we should break out the game systems.
I might as well just have stayed under the bus.
While fun for some, this clearly left Gail and Jeri out of the whole event. So, in making their own fun, I was asked to hook up the old Nintendo Entertainment System in Jeri's room, so that they could compete in Dr. Mario, Super Mario Bros. 3, and KLAX.
At around 4:30, another friend who had graduated from the Masters program at UCO showed up, bearing the gift of a crystal bowl for us. He'd gone back to China for a few months after graduating, and had recently come back to the States. While he had been at UCO, though, he and my other UCO friend and I had formed a sort of UCO Math Lunch Club, and we would all go out to eat together on certain days of the week when we were free and waiting for our night classes.
He marveled at all the food we had made, and ate appreciatively, though it was all very cold by now. He even attempted the video games with us before he left, and his only remark to me when I asked him if he enjoyed himself was, "Next time, I would like a movie, because I wasn't good at the video games."
My former co-worker, through another great twist of fate, had been forced into working until 10 o'clock instead of 6, and phoned me later in apology. And I perish to think of the tongue-trashing of which Jeri's friends are going to be recipients ... considering they never called to cancel or RSVP, and were a total no show.
All in all, we had food for 20+, and fed only 9, all of whom were my friends. And, because we left it all out overnight with no refrigeration, it all had started to go bad the next morning, and we filled up an entire 33-gallon garbage bag with the food that had not been eaten, and still had some left out.
--
It would be hard to come away from this experience (this was my first time hosting a party of any major sort in my own home) without a few lessons learned. I think I have some.
1. Make between ONE and TWO pounds of food PER GUEST ACTUALLY COMING.
People who "may" show up probably won't, and you don't want to have to toss out so much.
2. Bake some, save some.
As I now recall from my youth, there were times when my grandmothers on both sides of the family would prepare a lot of foods just up until the final stage: baking. Thus, if you make enough for 100, and 10 show up, you can just put in a tenth of what you've made into the oven, and the rest remain good in the fridge. Of course, it helps when you have several refrigerators in your home, but I digress.
3. Schedule definitive times.
"We're going to eat at one" shouldn't become "we'll just eat whenever." If I'm hosting a party from 4-6, and someone has to work until 5... guess what? YOU CAN'T MAKE IT. I'm going to have food AT FOUR. So there.
4. Pick group activities that ... I don't know ... involve THE WHOLE GROUP.
Yeah. I totally earn THAT stamp of disapproval. Put it on my butt next to the "a real husband knows how to carve a turkey" one. Oh... I didn't mention that before? Yeah. I totally made fun of myself because I couldn't carve a damn turkey. Again... first time. I suck.
--
I think that's about it. Unless I want to include "invite people who won't have transportation issues" or "invite people who know where your house actually is, so they don't have to hunt for it." I mean, who's a more dependable guest: a guy four hours away who's never been to your house and may have to deal with traffic, or your next-door neighbor?
Of course, one of OUR next-door neighbors is still mad because we haven't 100% finished the fence yet. He even had the gall to come over and offer to help with sawing and things, just because he has to leave his dog restrained in the backyard to go to the bathroom.
OH. I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T REALIZE WE WERE ON YOUR TIMETABLE, DOUCHE-ROCKET! I THOUGHT THE OFFER WAS JUST TO REPLACE THE FENCE.
Not to mention that this is the same guy who didn't want us parking our third car ON OUR PROPERTY, because it impeded his view of the street.
And here we thought we were finally away from the kind of person who bangs on your wall because your music's too loud.
[*exasperated sigh*]
That said, allow me to regale the rest of you with the events of Thanksgiving at the Ford House this year.
--
All right... so, after I tell you the whole story, I'll tell you what I've learned from it. Since I'm almost guaranteed to host another party at some point in the future, I should probably walk away from this with some knowledge.
Lemony Pledge's A Series of Unfortunate Events...
(alternately ... how many titular references can I throw into this LJ entry?)
Some of it was beyond our control. Bad weather hovering over Oklahoma City made many people want to stay at home. Nevertheless, Gail, Jeri, and I decided to host the party all the same.
We bought china and real silver. We bought napkins, a centerpiece, and all manner of pots, pans, and other cookery. And Gail did much research via the Internet as to what dishes she would like to serve. This, of course, was when we expected a party of eight plus the four of us.
That number did some major inflation, with the possibility of hosting up to and over 20 people at one point. But, as the days went on, those numbers deflated (most of the deflation was my supervisor, who was planning on coming, then planning on coming with two or three spontaneous guests on Saturday, and then ended up having to cancel because the 2-3 spontaneous guests became 8-10 spontaneous guests, and the logistics of getting that many people to an hour-away destination to which none of them had ever been became too great, and she had to rescind her offer of joining us), but the food only increased. Never can be too sure, after all. I'd say that between appetizers, food, and dessert, we probably managed to have 30 pounds of meat, 10 pounds of appetizer, 20 pounds of sides, and 10 pounds of desserts (or more). Clearly, we were planning on feeding an army.
Friday night and early Saturday morning were a feverish rush. I'll throw myself under the bus first by acknowledging that I did very little to help Gail or Jeri in the preparation of food. I washed dishes when asked, fixed the dessert I had prepared to make, and then pretty much avoided the kitchen at all costs.
That said, it was noon on Saturday when Jeri made the remark, "You think you're worried now? Try waiting until two or three o'clock with no guests showing up. Then you can be worried."
No sooner had the words been spoken than her daughter, Stephanie, came into the room with my cell phone. On it, a text message from my UCO professor and his wife. At this point, I would like to note that he'd been having medical problems as a result of an invasive surgical procedure he'd had done over the summer. Turns out they were both in the ER of OU Health & Science Center, and he was suffering from nausea and fever. Neither one of them would be able to make it by one (and, as it turns out later, neither one would be able to make it at all ... though it is interesting to be "morphine dialed" by your professor).
And then there were 12...
About that time, I chose to open my mouth and tell Gail that one of my former co-workers wasn't going to be able to make it until 6. And she was bringing the mashed potatoes. At that point, I was thrown under the bus again - and rightly so, for not choosing to avail anyone of this information until almost one o'clock - the official starting time of this dinner gala.
Shortly thereafter, I receive a phone call from one of my buddies from school. He'd turned down tickets to see the Bedlam game, in order to come to our dinner. However, as a result of the friend-from-out-of-town-who'd-flown-in-for-the-game being there sans vehicle, my friend had to drive the aforementioned other friend down to Norman, OK, to be able to watch the game, so he was going to be late.
Late. All the food was hot and ready by 1:30. And my friend from school was the first to arrive. At 2.
Now, had I known that my Midwest City local contingent of people would be delayed by work until 3-ish, I would have turned everyone loose to eat at 2. While things were still warm. I'll take another turn under the bus for that one.
Thankfully, they eventually showed up (mostly because I had them hunting around for an N64 cord so that we might play video games if people were interested), and we ate.
Food was cold. I had upset the Mrs. three times already, but she was still a good hostess, nevertheless. After dinner, there was a little mingling, before I decided we should break out the game systems.
I might as well just have stayed under the bus.
While fun for some, this clearly left Gail and Jeri out of the whole event. So, in making their own fun, I was asked to hook up the old Nintendo Entertainment System in Jeri's room, so that they could compete in Dr. Mario, Super Mario Bros. 3, and KLAX.
At around 4:30, another friend who had graduated from the Masters program at UCO showed up, bearing the gift of a crystal bowl for us. He'd gone back to China for a few months after graduating, and had recently come back to the States. While he had been at UCO, though, he and my other UCO friend and I had formed a sort of UCO Math Lunch Club, and we would all go out to eat together on certain days of the week when we were free and waiting for our night classes.
He marveled at all the food we had made, and ate appreciatively, though it was all very cold by now. He even attempted the video games with us before he left, and his only remark to me when I asked him if he enjoyed himself was, "Next time, I would like a movie, because I wasn't good at the video games."
My former co-worker, through another great twist of fate, had been forced into working until 10 o'clock instead of 6, and phoned me later in apology. And I perish to think of the tongue-trashing of which Jeri's friends are going to be recipients ... considering they never called to cancel or RSVP, and were a total no show.
All in all, we had food for 20+, and fed only 9, all of whom were my friends. And, because we left it all out overnight with no refrigeration, it all had started to go bad the next morning, and we filled up an entire 33-gallon garbage bag with the food that had not been eaten, and still had some left out.
--
It would be hard to come away from this experience (this was my first time hosting a party of any major sort in my own home) without a few lessons learned. I think I have some.
1. Make between ONE and TWO pounds of food PER GUEST ACTUALLY COMING.
People who "may" show up probably won't, and you don't want to have to toss out so much.
2. Bake some, save some.
As I now recall from my youth, there were times when my grandmothers on both sides of the family would prepare a lot of foods just up until the final stage: baking. Thus, if you make enough for 100, and 10 show up, you can just put in a tenth of what you've made into the oven, and the rest remain good in the fridge. Of course, it helps when you have several refrigerators in your home, but I digress.
3. Schedule definitive times.
"We're going to eat at one" shouldn't become "we'll just eat whenever." If I'm hosting a party from 4-6, and someone has to work until 5... guess what? YOU CAN'T MAKE IT. I'm going to have food AT FOUR. So there.
4. Pick group activities that ... I don't know ... involve THE WHOLE GROUP.
Yeah. I totally earn THAT stamp of disapproval. Put it on my butt next to the "a real husband knows how to carve a turkey" one. Oh... I didn't mention that before? Yeah. I totally made fun of myself because I couldn't carve a damn turkey. Again... first time. I suck.
--
I think that's about it. Unless I want to include "invite people who won't have transportation issues" or "invite people who know where your house actually is, so they don't have to hunt for it." I mean, who's a more dependable guest: a guy four hours away who's never been to your house and may have to deal with traffic, or your next-door neighbor?
Of course, one of OUR next-door neighbors is still mad because we haven't 100% finished the fence yet. He even had the gall to come over and offer to help with sawing and things, just because he has to leave his dog restrained in the backyard to go to the bathroom.
OH. I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T REALIZE WE WERE ON YOUR TIMETABLE, DOUCHE-ROCKET! I THOUGHT THE OFFER WAS JUST TO REPLACE THE FENCE.
Not to mention that this is the same guy who didn't want us parking our third car ON OUR PROPERTY, because it impeded his view of the street.
And here we thought we were finally away from the kind of person who bangs on your wall because your music's too loud.
[*exasperated sigh*]