At My Kitchen Table: Rain Checks
A display of Mozartkugeln at Schaller & Weber
At first, the table was set for eight. Then for seven. Finally, for five. Within the space of half an hour, Ms NOLA and Megan called to cancel lunch, Ms NOLA for herself and Megan for herself and Ryan, who was the ailing party in that household. Ms NOLA had sent me a note on Thursday saying that she was in bed with a very bad flu, so I wasn’t surprised by her call. After Megan called, I thought I’d better ask Kathleen: should we cancel? Or proceed? Kathleen voted for the latter course, and we ended up having a very jolly time of it. M le Neveu came down from Columbia, with some promising good news, and he and Kathleen had a chat while LXIV and I bored Fossil Darling silly with “reminiscences” of the ancien régime at Versailles.
Although it was too bad that the purpose of the luncheon — introducing Ryan to Ms NOLA and M le Neveu — didn’t happen, I was not consumed by disappointment. In fact, I shrugged it off almost at once. For once, I had planned for it. Not on it, but for it. For one thing, I hadn’t knocked myself out with an elaborate menu. Nor had I allowed preparation to supersede all regularly-scheduled activities.* Most important, I had reminded myself at every turn that the luncheon must be a pleasant event for all concerned, not a command performance at which the private feelings of those present were of no account.
We shall try again in a month of so, not long enough for me to forget all the little astuces that I picked up in the course of preparing yesterday’s meal.
* Just one or two — the Friday Front, for example.