The Joy of Cooking

My roommate left yesterday for a week long snowboarding trip so I have the place all to myself - woo hoo!! So what's the first thing I do? Throw a party!!!! Well, I'd planned on inviting people over anyways and my roommate being away just happenned to be a convenient coincident. And it's not really a party.... It was just going to be a small get together to have a few drinks, but then I decided it'd be a good idea to also cook since I am trying to learn. Yes, I had enough of Dutch food after the first week and figured it's about time I got off my lazy bum and started learning. You see, I didn't really need to cook when I was in Tokyo and NYC. Take outs in those cities are good and cheap. Not to mention I was usually too busy to cook anyways. In college, I was prisoner to campus (military school) and was catered to 3 meals a day. So for 10+ years after leaving home, I hardly touched a frying pan. Well, that's my excuse for not being able to cook anyways.

Okay, so I offer to make some food for these people I was inviting for drinks and everyone who planned to show up accepts to come earlier for food. I thought perhaps there'd be like 3 or 4. The count's up to 7 (8 including myself) and I figured there's no way I'm experienced enough to handle any more. Besides, I barely have enough seating for everyone. So the invites stop.

So how hard can it be to throw a dinner party? Well, the parties I've thrown in the past involved mostly finger food or oven dishes with coolers full of beer and such. The guests this time are accustomed to champagne, wine, hard liquor, and probably 3 course meals. My only concern for the night though was to make sure my guests didn't starve. I chose a simple main dish - spaghetti carbonera, and sadly that was it. A salad could have been simple enough to add until I saw the selection of unappealing dressings in the Dutch supermarket. I spent 5 minutes too long staring at them hoping one would jump out. None did. So I figured spaghetti, snacks, and alcohol was enough for today.

Alcohol... that was another problem. I don't drink... much. I don't have a bar and my roommate doesn't have a bar. I was assured though that it would be no problem. All of my guests are proud owners of more alcohol (available to them tax-free) than they know what to do with, and 3 of them live in the same building (in case we needed to replenish). There were few minor issues still tho that didn't occur to me ahead of time: I didn't have a wine opener, vodkas weren't chillled enough for shots, I didn't have champagne glasses, & I didn't have shot glasses. (Thank goodness for neighbors.) I also had to take lessons in Champagne opening/serving 101....

Okay, back to the cooking story. So, I'm trying to make carbonera for dinner, hoping I can time things just right so I give people enough time to show up but is fed reasonably early enough. The start time is 1900. Shortly after, people start trickling in and I have a panic situation in the kitchen. The pasta pans are bubbling over, I'm flicking carbonera sauce everywhere (thanks to the flimsy dollar store utensils), I forget to serve drinks, and I can't take people's coats at the door. I had to run out to tell my guests to help themselves to the drinks. My boss's boss is now in the kitchen guiding me for which I was absolutely grateful. Fortunately he seemed more entertained than dismayed at my incompetence in the kitchen.

In the end, the dinner was edible and everyone seemed to enjoy the rest of the evening. A few of us were actually out drinking and dancing until 0430 the night before so we were fading by 1 or 2. I was in bed by 0230 and up today at 1130. The mess doesn't look too bad. No spills, no broken glasses. I start throwing the dishes in the dishwasher when one of my neighbor/coworker/friend taps on the kitchen window, which are like the display windows in the Red Light District of Amsterdam - you can see everything inside. He's just walking by so he stops to say hi. He laughs at my bed head. After he leaves I look in the mirror and am mortified that my hair is pointing in every which direction. I curse the proximity to which I live by these people. Reminds me of the show Desparate Housewives, although everyone else here are men. I must say tho, it's weekends like these that are why I love it here.

ps. Few pix here.