Text 8353, 87 rader
Skriven 2013-12-29 21:18:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: xmas eve party 674
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Taste of the day: So Delicious pumpkin coconut milk - a great
disappointment. Quite bland, with no pumpkin, coconut, or milk
flavor. A little eggnog spice but not very much. Surprisingly
not very sweet, which normally might be okay, but these are
the holidays, and now is the time to go whole hog, if ever.

--

That @#@! cat got into a bag of Lindt truffles that Annie had
picked up for me. Stealing bacon is bad, but stealing chocolate
is inexcusable. One can only hope that that chocolate is as
bad for cats as it is for dogs.

Mike came over for toast, which means pulling out a beer for
each of us and toasting each other. I tried to interest him in
a cup of chili, but he pleaded delicacy of stomach or something.
So I ate it myself.

As I'd been guest chef and Annie had hosted a party for Liz's
reelection campaign (she won - the only Democrat on the city
council), we were invited to her uncle Bob's Christmas Eve
party, which Annie represented to me as the social event of
the season, not that that would be a great recommendation for
me. It was in a restored mansion on Millionaire's Row and was
at one time the residence of a 19th-century millionaire, back
before this city had its great sag in fortune. These buildings
then fell into disrepair, some turning into rooming houses,
brothels, law offices, and similarly disreputable enterprises;
only now with the gas boom the properties have mostly been
rehabilitated to their former glory (aside from the law
offices). It's all Victorian dark wood and crown molding
(whatever that is), with Deco stained glass from the turn of
the other century and other features that I don't appreciate.

Liz's aunt Marcia used to host rocking holiday parties, so I
am told, but two years ago she died of brain cancer, and last
year her nephew took over the party, and this year it's back
to full swing with the widower, son, nephew, aunt, and niece
all inviting vast numbers of friends as well as the restaurant
employees who were in that uneasy place between servants and
guests. I wasn't interested so much in the dynamics and
politics and architecture but rather the food, which had been
prepared at the restaurant and finished here: quite a spread,
with a whole poached salmon, giant shrimp, four rosemary-crusted
whole tenderloins (I carved the second and thought I did better
than the restaurant staff, but then it turned out the person
doing the rest of the carving was a bartender), and two whole
turkeys, which I should have insisted on carving but didn't,
the result being that only breast meat came out on the platters.
There was an interesting angel hair dish with Parmesan, tuna,
and white raisins that I ate more of than I thought I would.

Alcohol was bought with an eye to a guest list of well over 100
- this means that the top shelf was shall we say elsewhere. 
When Woodbridge Cabernet is the first wine and Barefoot the
backup, well. The bubbly was Korbel brut, which could have been
worse. I stuck mostly with Jim Beam.

There was a roomful of cakes and cookies, which I successfully
eluded, and another with a piano and someone who knew how to
use it, ditto.

A lot of yakking with plenty of flamboyant folks with a shall
we say healthy self-image. I had some entertaining words with
a guy who owns a reptile zoo and another who claimed to play
the viola for a living; also a woman who, when she heard that
Annie had a 6600 sq ft house immediately chimed in and said
"mine's 8000." I almost told her about my friend whose husband
had looked at a 10000 sq m resort in Portugal as a tax shelter
(only he found a better one elsewhere), but I refrained. Some
theatrical types, some arteesteek types, bunches of folks from
restaurants - I didn't see the Franco guy there, but his
brother, who is the chef at Cloud Nine, was, and he said hi.

I was solicited twice, first by a waitress from the restaurant
who thought I must be wealthy and desirous of companionship,
and then by someone on behalf of the symphony, who thought I
must be talented. Actually, I ended up sharing a few laughs with
the former and stories about mutual friends with the latter.

Annie and I extricated ourselves at 1:30, not really tired, but
it was time to go. Surprisingly and dismayingly, Jane was still
there as well, having brought Lily, who was kind of underfoot.

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