Published by PaintingChef on 12 May 2008
But somehow it all came together anyway. And was AWESOME.
Given this recent relocation adventure (stay with me… believe it or not this is NOT about moving!) Patrick and I (read: Susannah in one of her lesser intelligent moments which she then subsequently blamed on Patrick and then started writing in the third person? What the hell?) decided that since we were all now in the same town, we would have our parents and our grandmothers over for dinner on Mother’s Day.
Lovely, right? The sort of thing that good children do.
And believe me, this was one well planned event. I knew an entire week ago EXACTLY what I was serving. I had planned flowers, wine, music and even knew where everyone should sit. I was on the fucking ball. Coffee-rubbed beef tenderloin on the grill (oh Bobby Flay… you grilling sexy minx), spinach casserole that I am FAMOUS for, rosemary potatoes, delicious salad with apples, feta and homemade honey vinaigrette and my recently perfected cheesecake for dessert (hey… I don’t have a fat ass for nothing my friends… I sacrifice my physical appearance to feed you perfectly creamy cheesecake.)
People were coming over at 6 and I was aiming for dinner at 6:30. Earlier than I would like but Patrick’s grandmother gets VERY tired and I am incapable of getting my shit together to serve lunch. Not to mention that the in-laws give me pretty dirty looks when I break out all that wine at noon. Party poopers.
I was doing good, sticking to my loose and flexible schedule/timeframe that allowed me to go out Sunday morning and get the flowers to make bouquets for everyone. (And by the way? All you slackers at the store picking through those ugly last few bouquets of overpriced roses? You suck. Take a few minutes, pick out some different flowers from over here where I’m standing all by my lonesome, put them together in a bouquet and you won’t give your mother flowers that scream of “I woke up with a hangover or possibly still drunk and then I remembered it was Mother’s Day and here… look… half dead roses. Love you mom.”). I have one more fast, unscheduled (but totally manageable) mad dash out the CVS when I realize that the movers mutilated my entire stock of adorable wrapping paper and unless my mother and Patrick’s mother are suddenly about that have a baby boy or want to get into the Christmas spirit, I should run to the store.
And then everything. Fell. Apart.
Because guess what you kind of need to get everything ready for dinner for 9 people?
Electricity my friends. ELECTRICITY.


