Party Time!

The time had come.  We needed to give a party.  Friends have had us to parties, to dinners, to fire pits not to mention they shoveled our driveway when we were away during a snow storm (again).  We pay those social debs regularly, like clockwork, once every five. If you invite us to your house, we will reciprocate; just don’t hold your breath.

My husband would happily host get-togethers several times a year. He's an extrovert and likes to pour drinks.  He likes to socialize.  He is a ball of energy.  I am an introvert.  I like the theory of giving parties.  I like to go to them.  I like to leave early.  

When we have a party, I’m happy to see everyone.  Unfortunately for me, you can’t have a rip-roaring good party if you invite people at 7:00 and ask them to leave at 9:00.  I have to admit, too, that although I droop at 9:00, come midnight, I’ve gotten my second wind.  I hit my stride.  If you want to see me at my best, don’t even show up until 11:00. That's when I start to get witty.

Over the years, I have come to the conclusion that theme parties are the best.  They give people a common forum upon which to get to know each other.  I thought it would be a good idea to have a vodka tasting party as the one definite thing I came home from Russia with was a taste for vodka.  There are wine tasting parties and cheese tasting parties and beer tasting parties.  I didn’t think a vodka tasting was that far of a stretch, but it turned out people thought I was incredibly creative.  Points to me!

We had the entire Russian food them going.  I made the borsch and deviled eggs. I didn’t know if people would rally round the weird sausages and pickled vegetables, but everyone likes pieroshki (Russian prorogues) and candy.  I was terrified we’d run out of food, so I carved a couple of chickens and baked a hunk of salmon.  In fact, I kept adding different foods to the list just to ease my nerves. 

I was pretty sure we had enough food.  I was very sure we had enough vodka.  There was wine because several people (it turns out erroneously) told me they didn’t like vodka.  Still, about three hours BPT (Before Party Time), I wondering, "What was I thinking?  Whatever was I thinking?"

It all went off without a hitch.  It turns out that the most private of people undergo a personality transformation after a few shots of vodka.  People who had never seen each other before then became fast friends.  The last few people left at 2:00 AM, so I have to think the party was a success.  

Doesn't this look like a success to you?

The caviar was gone, and the weirdest of the food was gone.  Enough chicken and salmon and peroshki were left so that I didn’t cook for the rest of the week -- reason enough to have a party as far as I’m concerned.  In fact, it was great, and I look forward to doing it again.  In 2019.