Dinner Guest #36 - The B. Family

Sunday, September 16, 2012

In the fall of 2007, we found ourselves in a challenging housing situation.

Out of the blue, I received a letter from my landlord that due to some family issues, he needed his house back.  He wanted us to move out in 30 days.  We were sad to leave the cute home we had been renting for the past year.  Plus, we were tired of moving.  We had moved four times in the previous three years.  To add a little more fuel to the fire, Kate was two, Jack was 7 months old, and I learned I was pregnant again.

Our realtor, Mr. B. saved the day.

He found us the house we’ve been living in for the last five years and where we will most likely stay for the next twenty.  I love the house, the neighborhood, the large garden park my children ride their bikes to school, and our neighbors (see Dinner Guest #32).

This Sunday, we had our realtor, Mr. B., his amazing wife, and their four energetic boys over to dinner.  Not knowing how much four boys (ages 3 to 11) will eat, I made too much food on purpose.  The meal consisted of Heavenly Chicken, Brazilian Rice and Feijoada, Brazilian cheese bread, parmesan rolls, spinach salad with balsalmic dressing, and sweet potato casserole.  Mrs. B brought a large fruit platter and for dessert, I served cream cheese brownies. After watching Jack eat more brownies than I could count, I asked him to stop.  He sat, sulked, and stared at the plate long enough for me to catch a photo of his protest.

After the meal, our children played, and fought, and cried, and ultimately ended up outside in the front yard while the moms washed dishes.  The dads sat on the driveway in lawn chairs and refereed the chaos.

We love the B. family.  Our paths cross almost daily at elementary school, piano lessons, driving through our neighborhood, or at church on Sundays.   If some unexpected event sends us searching for another home, I will call Mr. B. again. 

He’s just that good.

Dinner Guest #35 - Meals on Wheels

Sunday, September 9, 2012

One of the hardest Sunday dinner complications has become the last minute

CANCELLATION

On Sunday morning, we found out that our dinner guests had a sick child and could not come over.  While I expressed the appropriate empathetic comments and promised to invite them again sometime, my mind flashed over the large quantities of food that would go uneaten.  I fretted,

“Can I really secure another dinner guest in eight hours?”

Most of our dinner guests have been invited several weeks in advance.   I generally try to avoid last minute dinner invitations.  I worry the invitation may come across as insincere or somehow less respectful of another family’s social calendar.   I wonder if it rudely implies:

“Hey, I obviously didn’t put much thought into having you over, and I know you are not doing anything important tonight, so why don’t you come over to dinner only because I cooked too much food….”

After learning that our good friends, the V. family, also had a sick Daddy, I quickly found a solution to my problem:

Meals on Wheels

Sunday afternoon I cooked up my usual storm of dishes:  barbecue pork sandwiches with cole slaw, fresh corn salad, baked potato skins with cheddar cheese and bacon, fruit salad, and homemade oatmeal cookies.  However, instead of tidying the house, scrubbing all the peanut butter stains from the kitchen chairs, and mopping the floor, I simply packed up the meal into foil containers and delivered Sunday dinner promptly to the V. family at 5:30 pm.

Our family ate the other half of the same meal and enjoyed a quiet Sunday evening to ourselves.

I could get used to this.

Dinner Guest #34 - The S. Family

Sunday, September 2, 2012

One of the most frequent questions we pose to our guests while gathered around the kitchen table during Sunday dinners is:

“So, how did you two meet?”

Surprisingly, the story telling process follows the same predictable pattern.  Husband and wife look at each other smiling as if to say, “Are you going to tell this, or me?”  Husband starts talking, wife interjects with minute details that can only be remembered if you are female, and at some point they disagree on exactly how the events went down.  The story then becomes he-said versus she-said.  The tale ends happily ever after with anecdotes from their honeymoon on an island in the Caribbean or Hawaii.

One of my favorite “How did you two meet” stories comes from the S. family.    While I’m an obviously absent third party with a selective memory, here is my version of how Mr. and Mrs. S. fell in love:

Mr. S. met the future Mrs. S. at a singles activity sponsored by their church.  Mrs. S. could tell that Mr. S. was interested, but played it cool and coy.  Several days later, Mrs. S. receives a text from one of the church leaders saying,

“Hey, give this guy a chance!”

Then, Mr. S. makes his move.  At a church blood drive, Mr. S. requests that he be seated next to the gurney where Mrs. S. is being prepped and poked for donation.  While reclining, right arms oddly angled out like a cyclist’s turn signal, blood slowly dripping into meticulously labeled plastic bags, Mr. S. and the future Mrs. S. chat, and flirt, and fall in love.  Many dates and months later, Mr. and Mrs. S. get married and honeymoon in the Dominican Republic.

After hearing their story, I wondered if United Blood Services, Match.com, and producers of the Twlight movies ought to seriously considering working together.   Who knows what lives could be saved from a “Give Blood – Fall in Love” advertising campaign.

For dinner I served most of my usual dishes:  Heavenly Chicken over Brazilian Rice, sautéed green beans with almonds and bacon, fresh corn salad with basil, and parmesan rolls.  Mrs. S. brought a fruit salad of watermelon, grapes and bananas—all of my kids’ favorites.  For dessert, I tested out a new brownie recipe from allrecipes.com that turned out very tasty over vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce, and chopped nuts.

After our dinner guests recount their “How did you two meet?” story, we are often posed the same question.  This Sunday, Kate decided to answer.  It was both interesting and entertaining to hear Kate narrate an oddly jumbled, inaccurate version of how her parents met.  The truth is, we don’t really have a creative, romantic story like Mr. and Mrs. S.  However, I’m wondering if I ought to invent one just to spice up the Sunday dinner conversation. 

Better yet, next week, we’ll have Jack and Rock deliver the Story of Us.  Something like, 

"Mommy and Daddy met at a Superhero Lego convention.  Daddy was dressed as Captain America, Mommy was Cat Woman....."

Dinner Guest #33 - Mr. M. and Ms. L.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

She likes to shop. 

He can’t stand the mall.

She likes the Olive Garden.

He likes to eat at home.

He doesn’t sleep well.

She wakes him up nightly at 1:30 am to move him from the couch to his bedroom.

She wants to go to Disneyland.

He gets queasy on amusement park rides.

She is starting 8^th grade tomorrow and rolls her eyes at most everything her father says.

He’s a hard-working, single Dad raising his 13-year old daughter the best he can.

It’s not a tween sitcom with trendy clothing and laugh tracks.  They are our friends who came over this Sunday for dinner:  Mr. M. and Ms. L.

My main dilemma for the Sunday meal was this:

What do I serve when my air conditioning is on the fritz and the house is hovering around 85 degrees?

Do I dare turn on the oven? 

To avoid heating up the kitchen even more, I deferred to my crock pot.  I’m sure I committed an entertaining faux pas by serving a hearty, winter dish in the middle of a hot Las Vegas summer, however, it tasted good!  We ate crock pot beef stew, sweet potato casserole, hot parmesan rolls, fresh sugar snap peas, grapes, and strawberries.  For dessert, I served peach berry cobbler with vanilla ice cream.

Mr. M. and Ms. L. did not stay long as tomorrow is the first day of the school year for all the kids (except Rock, of course).  The backpacks are packed with new pencil boxes, clip boards, and folders.  I set shopping bags of school supplies by the door.  The kids are showered and tucked in bed.

After tidying the house, I sat on the edge of my bed to rub my achy feet and smiled for two reasons: 

(1)    I thoroughly enjoyed our 33rd Sunday dinner guest.  Mr. M. and Ms. L. gave me a sneak peak at what my relationship with Kate may be like in five years.

(2)    I officially survived the summer!

Dinner Guest #32 - The V. Family

Sunday, August 19, 2012

I’ve had all kinds of neighbors.

Good and Bad.

Nameless, faceless neighbors you wave at as you pick up your mail.

Neighbors who leave unfriendly notes on your front door to stay off their driveway.

Neighbors who knock on your door once a year to collect for a particular charity.

Neighbors whose dogs are more familiar to me than the owners.

When we moved onto Middle Earth Street four years ago, we hit the neighbor jackpot.  We moved next door to the V. family.  Not only are they kind, personable, interesting people, they are easy to live by.  They don’t leave nasty notes or have loud, drunken parties.  They don’t have an annoying dog or leave trash out that blows onto our yard.  These are the kind of people you want to live by for the next 20 years. 

We have been the benefactor of great hand-me-downs from the V. family:  a doll house, more Barbie dolls than I can count, clothing, a bicycle, baseball equipment, even a patio table and chairs.  What do we give the V. family?

WINE!

We do not drink, but several times a year we are the recipients of bottles of wine which are always handed over to the V. family.   After delivering several expensive bottles last Christmas, Mrs. V. exclaimed,

“I love living next to Mormons!”

For dinner I served hamburgers on the grill, barbecue potato chips, bow tie pasta salad, fresh corn salad, strawberries, and carrots with dip.  Mrs. V. made an ice cream pie with an amazing candied corn flake crust.

After four years of neighborliness, we know the V. family well.  We have passed beyond the get-to-know- you questions.  Like us, the V. family has three children, however, they have about eight more years’ parenting experience.   Living next to the V. family gives us a glimpse of new teen drivers, first boyfriends, college preparation, and juggling hectic schedules.

 

The real estate market in Las Vegas is often reported to be the worst in the United States.  Home values have dropped so much that most home owners are under water on their mortgage.  Lucky for us, we have no plans to move.  We hope to stay in our home for many years to come.

We really hope the V. family stays on Middle Earth Street too.

Dinner Guest #31 - The M. Family

Sunday, August 12, 2012

In my religion, at the age of 18, single men and women have the option to attend Sunday services at a church designated for singles only.  It is known as,

THE SINGLES WARD

This label is not to be confused with Montgomery Ward retail stores, a psychiatric ward, nor does the building contain people who have been declared a “ward” of the state. The primary goal of a Singles Ward is to help single people meet and eventually get married.

I suppose it’s not the most romantic answer to the question,

“So, how did you two meet?”

I would love to say,

“Well, I worked at the toll booth on Highway 21 for three years and every day Ryan would pass through my lane in his beat up Toyota truck, hand me a dollar, smile, and drive on through.  One morning, instead of a dollar, he passed me an antique, porcelain hand mirror with the words etched into the glass that read, ‘You have the face of an angel, will you marry me?’, and the rest is history!”

The simple truth is, singles wards are the breeding ground of many marriages including Mr. and Mrs. M. and, well… us!

This Sunday we invited the M. Family to dinner:  Mr. M., Mrs. M., and their three beautiful daughters.  I served grilled chicken and vegetable kabobs, au gratin potatoes, sweet potato casserole, and watermelon.  Mr. M. made an amazing gourmet green salad.  For dessert, Mrs. M. brought some tasty vanilla and chocolate-filled cream puffs and I served blueberry cream pie.

After the meal, the kids ran through the house shooting Nerf guns and playing hide-and-go-seek.  We parents sat around the glass kitchen table swapping stories from our Singles Ward days and playing an informal game of “Where Are They Now” with the names of old friends.  I admire Mr. and Mrs. M. for many reasons.  Mr. M. has survived a long, rocky road in his career in real estate and keeps plugging away when thousands have left the industry.  Mrs. M. has amazing leadership qualities I’ve observed first hand in church-related service organizations. She is an organized, industrious woman with a warm smile.

Singles Wards are often scoffed and lampooned as a group of social misfits unlucky in love.  I suppose couples like Mr. and Mrs. M and us would be considered graduates of the Singles Ward program.  Misfits or not, I cannot judge objectively, but this I know, after thirteen-plus-years:

We’re all still married…. 

Dinner Guest #30 - TC and Cat Woman

Sunday, August 5, 2012

“Nobody ever invites us to dinner…”

That was the surprising response I got from Mrs. C. after she listened to the dinner invitation I left on her answering machine.  Lucky for us, she happily accepted and asked what she could bring.  The standard answer I give to this question, for almost every guest, is:

FRUIT!

The reason I ask dinner guests to bring fruit is silly, but here it goes.  If they made some special, international, been-in-the-family-for 100-years-recipe:

1.       My picky children would refuse to eat it.

2.       The specialty dish might clash with the food I prepared.

3.       I am a picky eater too, but would feel obligated to eat something I didn’t like.

For Sunday dinner, I fixed my Summer usuals:  Chicken Kabobs, Vegetable Kabobs, fresh corn salad, Brazilian Rice, Feijoada, and Pao de Quejo.  For dessert I served my current guilty pleasure:  Blueberry Cream Pie.  I love the graham cracker crust, cream filling, and fresh blueberries coated with lemonade concentrate.  Jack and Rock refuse to eat the pie, but I am not offended.   There’s just more for me!

While I learned a lot about Mr. and Mrs. C during dinner, my favorite of their personal stories was learning their nicknames.  During different phases of his life, Mr. C.  has been known as Top Cat, T-Money, and TC.  Mrs. C’s nickname was Cat Woman.

Mr. and Mrs. C. have children around the same age as Ryan and grandchildren the same ages as Kate, Jack and Rock.  We got to hear how they met each other  and fell in love at Brigham Young University in the early 1970’s.  Mr. C. has lived a fascinating life.  He traveled with the USO as part of a singing group, worked on the Las Vegas railroad, ran for political office, and continues to work as a bankruptcy attorney.  Mrs. C. has spent much of her life raising children, serving people in her church congregation, and supporting Mr. C.  I love her positive outlook on life.

I should have explained to Mrs. C. that the reason they are not invited over for dinner has nothing to do with them.  They are kind, well-mannered, interesting people.  I could ask them questions for hours.  The answer to a lack of dinner invitations is simple:

Sunday dinner is a lost art—

An art I’m attempting to bring back into style, one dinner guest at a time...