This was to be the first of the monthly party rotations- every month we would take turns hosting little parties at our houses as an excuse to get together on a regular basis. I happened to be the first volunteer. Maybe it was because I had just finished reading Mrs. Dalloway and was in an 'ultimate hostess' state of mind, or maybe it was just because I was craving bloody marys. Who knows. Whatever the case, from the moment I sent out the invitations I began stressing about every detail until I had managed to drive everyone around me (read: Gabi and Chema) completely insane.
So many things to do, would I have enough time to do it all?
First thing to address was the state of my apartment- suddenly I couldn't stop thinking about how bare my walls looked, maybe I should run to the museum on my lunch hour and find some nice prints to hang? Or what about rugs? God, my wood floors look so barren! Maybe I should buy wood polish and skate around like the butlers in 'Annie' with rags tied to my feet to make them shinier? No, the real problem was the couch... I had time, I could buy yarn, print out knitting instructions from the internet and knit a nice colorful throw to put on it! The one I have was beginning to looks so ratty...
These were just some of the ridiculous thoughts clouding my brain days before my brunch was to take place. Impractical as always, I became obsessed with obscure details that were virtually impossible to take care of with so little time. What was supposed to be a simple brunch was rapidly turning into a costly apartment renovation...
The truth is whenever I plan parties here, I suddenly feel more American than ever. I guess I equate being American with being more detail-oriented , competitive and much more susceptible to stress. These aspects of my personality take over when I am in full party-planning mode and I start to act much more like I did when I lived in New York. I drink way more coffee, I walk faster to save time, I spend my lunch hour running errands instead of cooking and leisurely eating my meals at home. I even begin in-depth research to prepare my menu- I spend hours researching the food network website for drink and food recipes and then design and send my brunch invitation by evite. My competitive side awakens from its 3yr sangria-induced coma and turns what could have been a simple event into a high-stress contest to see how I can make my party so great that it will forever be remembered as the BEST party EVER. Come to think of it, I don't know if it really has to do with being American at all, maybe I'm just crazy. But I can honestly say that I have never noticed any of my Spanish friends stressing about get togethers as much as I do. I think they don't like to waste precious energy on getting frantic over a party when they could easily use it towards something more productive- like just going out to eat instead.
The truth is whenever I plan parties here, I suddenly feel more American than ever. I guess I equate being American with being more detail-oriented , competitive and much more susceptible to stress. These aspects of my personality take over when I am in full party-planning mode and I start to act much more like I did when I lived in New York. I drink way more coffee, I walk faster to save time, I spend my lunch hour running errands instead of cooking and leisurely eating my meals at home. I even begin in-depth research to prepare my menu- I spend hours researching the food network website for drink and food recipes and then design and send my brunch invitation by evite. My competitive side awakens from its 3yr sangria-induced coma and turns what could have been a simple event into a high-stress contest to see how I can make my party so great that it will forever be remembered as the BEST party EVER. Come to think of it, I don't know if it really has to do with being American at all, maybe I'm just crazy. But I can honestly say that I have never noticed any of my Spanish friends stressing about get togethers as much as I do. I think they don't like to waste precious energy on getting frantic over a party when they could easily use it towards something more productive- like just going out to eat instead.
I admit it, my anal-retentive attention to detail was incredibly annoying. I even began frantically searching for new "cutting-edge" brunch recipes at least a week in advance. No, not your typical eggs benedict or egg mcmuffin type recipe, I preferred browsing through web pages of how to make Mexican huevos rancheros with homemade mole reduction sauce and detailed instructions on how to make whole grain Arab inspired hummus wraps with grape leaves and figs in the hopes of finding THE recipe of ALL brunch recipes. (In case you're wondering, I finally opted for Italian frittatas which actually turned out to be pretty easy to make.)
Days before, I made frequent trips to the market to begin collecting ingredients- that is, after having bought a brand new notebook to jot down the countless lists I was making.
My elaborate lists covered every possible aspect of the brunch: invitation list, shopping list, entree list, decorations list, diagram of how to organize food on table, etc.
As you can tell, I had quite a bit of time on my hands...Melissa even was gracious enough to cater to my insanity and make me a prep list the night before detailing what ingredients I should chop first and the order in which all of my courses should be cooked. So not only was I slowly going crazy but I was also obviously surrounded by enablers...
Well, the morning of the big day I woke up 4 hours early to begin chopping. Melissa was still asleep and I wanted to impress her with my chef skills. I even made sure to hold the knife just like she had shown me to so many times before, even though it was starting to make my hand cramp up. Two hours later, I lovingly gazed on my piles of chopped spinach and mushrooms- they looked so professional! Melissa's jaw was going to drop when she saw how much my cutting skills had improved!
Soon enough, Melissa indeed stumbled into the kitchen as I beamed, knife in hand, and gestured towards the fresh piles of vegetables.
Days before, I made frequent trips to the market to begin collecting ingredients- that is, after having bought a brand new notebook to jot down the countless lists I was making.
My elaborate lists covered every possible aspect of the brunch: invitation list, shopping list, entree list, decorations list, diagram of how to organize food on table, etc.
As you can tell, I had quite a bit of time on my hands...Melissa even was gracious enough to cater to my insanity and make me a prep list the night before detailing what ingredients I should chop first and the order in which all of my courses should be cooked. So not only was I slowly going crazy but I was also obviously surrounded by enablers...
Well, the morning of the big day I woke up 4 hours early to begin chopping. Melissa was still asleep and I wanted to impress her with my chef skills. I even made sure to hold the knife just like she had shown me to so many times before, even though it was starting to make my hand cramp up. Two hours later, I lovingly gazed on my piles of chopped spinach and mushrooms- they looked so professional! Melissa's jaw was going to drop when she saw how much my cutting skills had improved!
Soon enough, Melissa indeed stumbled into the kitchen as I beamed, knife in hand, and gestured towards the fresh piles of vegetables.
"Oh my GOD" she said, as her jaw did indeed drop. My chest swelled with pride, until I saw that she was looking at my choppings in horrified disbelief.
"Why the f**K did you buy 3 kilos of parsley???"
Confused, I looked at the assorted bowls and explained to her that the enormous pile of green wasn't parsley at all, it was spinach! After a long pause, she began to laugh uncontrollably.
She leaned against the kitchen door and laughed hysterically at how I had chopped the spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes into what she later described as "the size of pinheads".
Apparently I had chopped my vegetables so tiny that they now resembled herbs! They were so small I could probably just sprinkle them on the fritattas in salt and pepper shakers...Stress again enveloped me, OH GOD, NOW WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO????
She leaned against the kitchen door and laughed hysterically at how I had chopped the spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes into what she later described as "the size of pinheads".
Apparently I had chopped my vegetables so tiny that they now resembled herbs! They were so small I could probably just sprinkle them on the fritattas in salt and pepper shakers...Stress again enveloped me, OH GOD, NOW WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO????
The brunch would be ruined by my tiny vegetables! What minutes before had been my pride and joy, suddenly looked like hamster food and I couldn't imagine what I was going to do now that I had single-handedly ruined the main entree of my brunch! When she finished laughing, Melissa managed to calm me down and we overcame the mincing disaster, luckily the frittatas turned out to be pretty small so the vegetable size didn' t make that big of a difference after all.
Aside from the chopping nightmare and some spilled champagne, the brunch was a success and we all had a great time. Gabi and I even managed to orchestrate the suprise attendance of Chemas cousins from Segovia without him finding out until the last minute! The bloody Mary's and Mimosas were flowing and as the day wore on, my apron (see photos below) inspired me to put on impromptu flamenco dance shows from time to time.
To sum it all up , aside from all of the stress, and the callous I now have on my pinky from following proper knife-grasping protocol.. I can't wait to do it again!!
Aside from the chopping nightmare and some spilled champagne, the brunch was a success and we all had a great time. Gabi and I even managed to orchestrate the suprise attendance of Chemas cousins from Segovia without him finding out until the last minute! The bloody Mary's and Mimosas were flowing and as the day wore on, my apron (see photos below) inspired me to put on impromptu flamenco dance shows from time to time.
To sum it all up , aside from all of the stress, and the callous I now have on my pinky from following proper knife-grasping protocol.. I can't wait to do it again!!
the chef resting in her flamenco apron, check out everyone filling up their plates in the background!
posing with the segovia posse, the surprise visit from Chema's cousins went off without a hitch!
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