Dinner Guest #52 - The T. Family

Sunday, January 6, 2013

This past week, I read an incredible book called Born To Run.  Author Christopher McDougall tells an interesting tale of the Tarahumara Indians of Mexico and their amazing, long distance running skills.  A sportswriter, McDougall also talks about popular American ultrarunners and what happens when these two groups race. 

I’m not a runner.  I have running shoes, running attire, and a nice set of white ear buds that attach to my iPod in the event I decide to run.  I’m a wannabe.  Born to Run made me wish I had an ultrarunner’s talent and determination.

This Sunday, we had an ultrarunner for dinner:  Mr. T., his wife, Mrs. T and their four boys.  The T. family boys range in age from 5 to 18, so I wasn’t quite sure how to entertain them.  I papered the dining table and put out markers and pens for doodling, but to my surprise, the boys were much more entertained with Kate’s old Disney princess dress ups.   I’m still kicking myself for not having taken a picture of their 11-year old boy squeezed into a pink Sleeping beauty dress, gold satin gloves, pink heeled shoes, and “Space Specs.”  It was nice to see those dusty old dressed used again.  I was just about to pass them along to a younger family with little girls.

Not knowing what a family of four growing boys would consume, I probably overcooked a bit.  I served Swiss Chicken, sweet potato casserole, corn pudding, spinach salad, parmesan rolls, and carrots & dip.  Mrs. T. brought a delicious chocolate pudding dessert made with a nut crust on bottom and layers of cream cheese, chocolate pudding, and whipped cream with chocolate shavings on top.

With Born to Run on my brain, I peppered Mr. T. about ultrarunners.  He was familiar with the book and participated in the Leadville Trail 100 a few years ago.  I appreciated his tolerance to all my ignorant questions.  Given Mr. T's experienced opinion, I have now reconsidered running barefoot like the Tarahumara Indians do.

At dinner, we learned that we have more in common with Mr. and Mrs. T. than we realized.  Mr. T. and I grew up not far from each other in suburbs of Washington, D.C., we all attended BYU (except for Ryan, of course), and Ryan and Mr. T. are both small business owners in different medical fields.

When it was time to leave, we took our traditional picture on the stairs with the T. Family.  I admit I felt a certain excitement and relief knowing I had completed my 52 Friends for Dinner project.  It’s because of wonderful people like the T. Family that I wish I had the energy and financial resources to keep going.

But I don’t.

It’s time to put the pots and pans away and take on another project.

Maybe I’ll start running….

Dinner Guest #51 - The Elders

Sunday, December 30, 2012

I’m getting older. 

I suppose I thought I was immune.  While I feel 28 on the inside, I look in the mirror and see a tired, 41 year old mamma.  My age really revealed itself to me when I caught myself viewing our dinner guests through a mother’s eyes.

This Sunday we fed two missionaries from our church:  Elder Fugate and Elder Kredt.  With Christmas only five days previous, our topics of conversation were gifts and holiday celebrations.  LDS missionaries are only able to speak to their families two days a year, Christmas and Mother’s Day, so we asked about their phone calls on Christmas day.  As the Elders shared stories about their parents and siblings, of Christmas packages filled with socks and ties, I realized,  

“These boys are someone’s sons.  They are missed.  Their families pray for them daily and their mothers worry about them.”

For dinner I made creamy chicken noodle soup, parmesan rolls, and a spinach salad with apples, beets, dried cranberries and balsamic dressing.  I attempted a new pumpkin praline dessert with vanilla ice cream from a popular cake mix website.  The pumpkinish cobbler didn’t turn out how I expected, but it was edible.  I scraped the leftovers into the trash can later that night.  Rock only ate rolls, as usual.  Jesus said that "man shall not live by bread alone," but Rock seems to be challenging that principle.  Elder Fugate barely ate anything because he was sick with a chest cold. 

Before the Elders left, they shared a spiritual thought with us.  It was simple and perfect for the short attention spans of our children.  Each Elder talked about the importance of reading the scriptures and the promises that Heavenly Father makes to us if we read them.

As they left, I gave Elder Fugate some Mucinex DM and told him of my home remedy tips with Vicks Vapo-rub.  That’s how I know I’m getting older.  For the first time in my life, I caught myself mothering someone.

God couldn’t be everywhere, so he created mothers. – Jewish Proverb

Dinner Guest #50 - The Turley Family

The worst house guest of all time, hands down, is Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation.  A few days before Christmas, Eddie, his wife, and two kids arrive uninvited to Clark Griswold’s (Chevy Chase) home in a beat-up RV, unleashing their trash-eating Rottweiler, and emptying sewage into the storm drain in the front yard. 

This Christmas, we spent a few days in Utah with my sister Kathryn, her husband Trey, and their three boys.  We didn’t pull up to their home in a hideous RV, or smoke cigars in their front yard wearing a robe, snow boots, and furry hunting hat, however, it seemed like we committed every other annoying house guest faux pas:

• One day into the visit, Jack and Rock came down with Strep Throat, exposing everyone to their fevers and coughing.
• Jack refused to take his cold medicine in the middle of the night and swatted the cherry red Nyquil syrup onto the borrowed sheets and air mattress.
• Jack threw up a melted orange cough drop and other mucus onto the recently ironed, white, guest room duvet and sheets.
• Kate happily played outside in the snow and tracked her muddy, wet boots through the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and into the basement.
• Rock had a random, massive bloody nose which dripped onto the living room carpet.

At least I was allowed to redeem ourselves somewhat by making Sunday dinner.  With no help from any cookbook, for the first time, I made Sunday dinner from memory.  I cooked Heavenly Chicken over Brazilian Rice, roasted green beans, roasted sweet potatoes with a honey/lemon glaze, parmesan rolls, and spinach salad.  For dessert, I baked a pre-made apple crisp in the oven and served it with vanilla ice cream. 

All the kids ate at the kitchen table while the parents gathered around the couch in the family room.  This Sunday dinner was unique because I was relaxed.  I didn’t have to be “ON.”  I didn’t feel any pressure to make polite conversation and ask those introductory questions like, “How did you two meet?”

I know how my sister met her husband.  I can tell that story myself.  I was at their wedding twenty two years ago.

While Kathryn and Trey could have reasonably asked us to leave with our sick, contagious children and our propensity to stain their carpets, instead, they brought out more blankets, checked the boys’ fevers, pumped up an extra air mattress, and even parked our rental car in their garage to keep the snow off. 

Christmas morning, Ryan and I scolded, begged, chided, and angrily whispered to our children to keep away from the presents Santa had brought the still-sleeping Turley family.  Tiptoeing through their quiet home, we gathered our kids into the rental car and boarded an airplane back to Las Vegas.  Around one in the afternoon, Kate, Jack, and Rock ran through our front door to see if Santa had visited our home too.  He did.

Later that night, Kathryn left a kind message on my phone, checking in with me to see how our Christmas turned out.  I was shocked to hear,

“Come back again… soon.”

Just love her.

Dinner Guest #49 - The W. Family

In December 2011, we boarded “The Santa Train” in Boulder City, Nevada with our friends the W. family.  During the short ride through the desert, Mr. and Mrs. Claus walked through the train cars, chatted with the passengers, and posed for photographs.  Afterward, we went to lunch with the W. family where we discussed, among many things, my blog idea for 2012:  52 Friends for Dinner.

“Just as long as I get to play the part of myself in the movie…” smiled Mr. W.

I love his optimism.

About five years ago, I was introduced to Mrs. W. by a mutual friend.  Mr. and Mrs. W. and I attended the same college (BYU) at the same time, but never crossed paths until they moved about a 30-minute drive from us.  We get together a few times a year for fun events like minor-league baseball games, pool parties, the circus, and other attractions around town.

For dinner I served Swiss Chicken, sweet potato casserole, corn pudding, parmesan rolls, carrots with dip, and a green salad with balsamic vinaigrette.  I could casually state that the W. family brought dessert, but this was no simple plate of cookies.  The W. family walked into our home with an ice cream machine, a homemade peppermint chocolate cake covered in a glass-domed cake plate, and a large cooler enclosing a chilled ice cream bowl.  During dinner, the machine hummed away as the batter churned and thickened into creamy vanilla ice cream.

When dinner guests arrive, I am often asked,

“How can I help?”

Mr. W. always says,

“Put me to work!”

Mr. and Mrs. W. come from large families.  You can tell they have been taught to pitch in and help out.  Plus, when they help, it truly is helpful.  I don’t have to stand by and smile as I cringe watching my pots and pans get put away slightly rinsed, but still dirty.  The dish washing machine was running with a full load BEFORE we even ate dessert.

Whenever we get together with the W. family, I always wish they lived closer.  While we’re only about 28 miles from their home, for two busy families with young children and busy lives, it seems like another state.  If ever some half-crazed movie producer decides to turn my year of dinner guests into a movie, Mr. W. will be the first one I will call to say,               

“You’re goin’ to Hollywood!”

Dinner Guests #48 - The T. & R. Families

Saturday, December 15, 2012

In the public school system, you never know who will become your child’s classmate.  Will she sit next to the class clown, a bully, meet her best friend for life, or will she be lonely?  For Kate, one classmate has remained constant through kindergarten, first grade and second grade:  a cute, brown-haired, brown-eyed boy named Brandon.  Much to Kate’s dismay, he calls her “Princess.”  To retaliate, she calls him, “Dude.”

My friend Mrs. T and I discussed getting together with the R. family for several months.  However, trying to coordinate each family’s schedule proved challenging.  Plus, Mr. R. works Sunday nights, so my traditional sit-down dinner was not going to work.  We finally agreed to a Saturday night in December and I marked the event on my large kitchen calendar. 

As the day drew nearer, the December 15^th square on the calendar filled up with other obligations:  a church holiday breakfast, a meeting with our Bishop in the afternoon, and a holiday open house invitation from another family.  To add to the holiday bustle, earlier in the week, I had prepared 50 stuffed chicken breasts for a church women’s Christmas dinner. 

Saturday night rolled around and I simply didn’t have the strength or mental capacity to cook.  So, I pulled my only dinner party Hail Mary of the year. 

I ordered pizza. 

Lots of Pappa John’s pizza.

DELIVERED.

I still prepared a few sides:  green salad, carrots-n-dip, and grapes.  Mrs. R. brought pastries filled with dulce de leche and chocolate pudding.  Mrs. T brought mini-bundt carrot cakes with cream cheese frosting and cookies-n-crème ice cream with chocolate and caramel toppings.  We ate on paper plates with plastic utensils and plastic cups.  The kids drank juice boxes and small water bottles.

Our kind husbands sat with and supervised all seven children while the three moms chatted and enjoyed our meal in an adjacent, more quiet, family room.  It was nice to get to know Mrs. R. better and hear her inspiring stories of coming to America, learning English, and taking on a housekeeping job when she was trained as a dentist in her native country.

After dinner, all six boys played together nicely, for the most part.  I checked on the kids occasionally when I felt the walls vibrating.   At one point, Brandon dared Kate to drink an entire water bottle in one gulp.  Kate performed the dare, but afterward, quickly ran to me concerned that she was going to throw up.  I spread a pillow and blanket on the carpet by the adults and Kate laid there until her swollen tummy calmed down.  She stayed away from the boys after that.

Dinner with the T. family and the R. family was really fun.  It made me wish I had enlisted the help of Pappa John and disposable paper goods months ago.  After all, I should know by now:

It really isn’t about the food anyway.

Dinner Guest #47 - The W. Family

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Some friends cross your path on a weekly basis and yet you rarely get a chance to sit down and talk.  This Sunday, I felt lucky that the W. Family was available to come to dinner.  These are busy people:  two working parents and two busy teenagers participating in all kinds of activities. 

We have known the W. family for several years as they attend the same church as we do and Ryan spent some time as their “Home Teacher.”  However, we learned some new, interesting details about them during dinner.  Mr. and Mrs. W. have known each other since high school.  They dated during their teens and married in their twenties.  I am always amazed to meet couples who have known each other since childhood.  What’s it like to go to Senior Prom with your future spouse instead of Lenny, the pimply-faced teenager you sit next to in Algebra class?

Mr. and Mrs. W. understand the challenging life of a small business owner.  For several years, they owned an organic pet food store in town.  I admit to being a bit jealous that they have sold the business and moved onto greener pastures. 

Mrs. W. has amazing stories involving her current job as a court appointed social worker.  I sat at the table with my eyes bugged out hearing about the foster care system, parents losing custody of their children, rehabilitating drug addicted parents, and homelessness.  I silently thought to myself,

“Ok, my life’s not so bad…”

I served one of my old stand-by Sunday dishes:  Heavenly Chicken over Brazilian Rice, parmesan rolls, grapes, and a green salad.  Mrs. W. brought sliced oranges.  Just one day prior, our home was filled with other friends and family celebrating Kate’s baptism.  So, luckily, I had lots of leftover desserts:  rice krispie treats, cream cheese brownies, 7-layer bars, and lemon bars.

 It was a nice change to have everyone sit at the table and talk.  It seems that lately, Sunday dinner has involved random children screaming and doors slamming from the upstairs bedrooms.  The W. family has two boys and one girl with ages ranging from 13 to 20.  Their oldest son is a missionary for the LDS church in Texas.  As the adults talked, their youngest, a girl, sat with Kate and wrote a story about tacos, aliens, and splattering paint, adding sentences back-and-forth.

Dinner with the W. family was yet another reminder to me of the many wonderful and interesting people I am surrounded by in my community.  They give me hope that I can survive the teen years and guide my children into becoming kind, responsible adults.

Surround yourself with good people.  Whether they’re the best or not, people are capable of learning if they’ve got good hearts and they’re good souls. – KID ROCK

Dinner Guest #46 - The D. Family & My In-Laws

Thursday, November 22, 2012

For many years, the thought of cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal was too overwhelming to consider seriously.  That feat was something that my Mom, Mother-in-Law, and my Grandmother could do, but not me.  I avoided the Thanksgiving culinary challenge for so many years that I got used to eating OUT on Thanksgiving more than eating IN. 

Until this year….

After cooking my running total of 45 Sunday dinners in 2012, Thanksgiving was no longer that intimidating.  So, I invited our friends the D. Family, along with my in-laws, and cooked up a traditional meal. 

Like millions of Americans, on Thanksgiving Day we ate:

Turkey

Mashed Potatoes with Gravy

Sweet Potato Casserole

Stuffing

Green Bean Casserole

Creamed Corn

Cranberry Sauce

Orange Rolls

Pumpkin Pie

Chocolate Pie

I can’t claim credit for all of these dishes. Mrs. D. made the cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.  My mother-in-law made her famous, melt-in-your-mouth orange rolls that I’ve tried unsuccessfully to duplicate.

While the turkey cooked away in an electric roaster sitting on top of my counter, I shoved all the side dishes into one oven, and baked the orange rolls in the other oven.  For appetizers, we munched on baked brie with crackers and smoked oysters with Boursin herbed cheese. 

I didn’t worry too much about the décor.  For one minute, I dusted off my grandmother’s china, reconsidered, and packed it away for some unknown future special occasion.  I settled on the ‘ole white Corelle dishes placed on top of gold chargers. 

We ate and talked and ate until our stomachs hurt.  Then, like millions of Americans, we ate leftovers for the next four days.  I made turkey soup, turkey burritos, and pasta with turkey alfredo sauce.

To summarize my Thanksgiving experience, I would say:

Yes, I spent hours at three different grocery stores buying the ingredients.

Yes, I spent two days cooking.

Yes, I was exhausted.

Yes, the meal only lasted about 20 minutes for the kids and 45 minutes for the adults.

BUT,  it was wonderful and I would do it again!