“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...
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