Ann asked me to housesit and then encouraged me to throw a dinner party. She told me that her house has great party karma, and that, in fact, if I had a bad party it had to be my fault.
It was a very good party.
Once again we find there is something magic about putting a bunch of good people in a good space with food and wine. That, after all, is the food effect I have been trying to describe in entry after entry. I put together a fairly simple menu and invited the most charismatic and friendly people I know, asked them to bring wine and figured all would take care of itself. This was true.
Ann's house is big and at the same time cozy. The dining room is all warm, deep wood and goldenrod colored walls. Wonderful tiles with barnyard animals and vegetables line the kitchen and breakfast bar. Ann had told me no matter what, everyone would congregate in the kitchen and dining room, despite the other fantastic spaces.
Luckily, Emilia is now visiting from Rome, and she came over to help me prep the afternoon of the party. We chopped, pureed, mixed, sauteed, simmered, and talked and talked for hours, not believing the time had passed so quickly. My wonderful friends began rolling in after work and school, carrying in bottles of wine. Drinking and eating antipasti, everyone gathered near Ann's big, round wooden table, which was filled with crusty bread, fresh mozzarella, proscuitto, sopresseta, and verdure misti - zuchinni, yellow squash, carrots, and fennel - roasted with capers, garlic and olive oil, and bowls of two simple spreads of kalamata olives and sundried tomatoes, both floating in pools of a piney, herby and sweet olive oil. There was a huge ensalate of mixed greens, beets, cucumber, dill and green onions, with a olive oil, fresh garlic and lemon juice dressing.
Being hostess means one is not quite as carefree as the guests, but one still gets a nice bird's eye view of the whole scene. Every now and then I floated around and just listened to the great conversation, glad to hear that even the small talk was lively.
The pasta came out and the people all lined up. There were two pastas - one rotini with roasted red pepper, artichoke hearts, olives, mozzrella and fresh parsley. The other was a pasta primavera, a linguini with crisp green beans and asparagus, a light creamy sauce of parmaggiano-reggiano and pine nuts, and topped with fresh basil and grape tomatoes sauteed in balsamic vinegar and fresh garlic. I was not sure how to make pasta for 20 people, but it practically made itself.
The pasta and bread did not slow anyone down - the merriment continued when Ann's little poodle, Grace, came to visit, jump around and sniff about. I pulled the pears out of the oven, which had been roasting and simmering in butter, apple juice and brown sugar, dolloped them all with vanilla ice cream and watched everyone spoon feed themselves.
The trickling out of guests began around eleven, but the dinner party die-hards stayed until after four in the morning, when the tired hostess had to end the shenanigans only because she had to catch a train the next day.
La felice vita! Grazie, amici.
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