Sorta snowed in again yesterday, with the drive un-blown and the back walk showing only the meandering chains of FuzzyPup’s paw-prints, and we had our Second Annual Un-Super Bowl Party, just us three in the house. We had no proverbial “DOG IN THE FIGHT,” but we did have a nice guy—in fact one of the nicest, kindest, GENTLEMEN ever to grace the sport. He’s still well remembered here, still thought of as one of ours---you can still see people all over town wearing the Colts 18 jerseys on season Sundays.
Caro cooked upstairs, making the meatballs, sizzling the marinated chunks of chicken in the wok, making the seafood dip and the old fashioned Lipton onion dip and the sandwiches and brownies. I just rummaged through storage places and cabinets, pulling out anything orange or blue. Here and there an orange dish, a blue bowl, a nifty new orange-and-blue cutting board, not yet used---it would span the sink, with a neat hole for peelings to fall through, and a cunning little orange foldy-basket colander, along with a sturdy sliding silent-butler sort of pan for gathering up the mincings and dicings. And it matched, as well, in my quest for the colours---not that we’re fans of any team, but it just seemed right to at least represent Peyton’s team, even if we WERE watching a movie during the event.
Even last Fall’s art tablecloth---folded inside out and upside down, got into the scheme, and there we were.
The table, in all its gaudy bits and pieces glory.
The sandwiches---two with ham and Provolone, and the other with piles of the tenderest rare roast beef. Horseradish cream to go with. I think we cut those into thirds, and Chris and I each had a slice for lunch today, as well.
Caro’s Asian Chicken Meatballs, with a spicy sweet chili sauce.
The satay---marinated in soy and garlic, patted dry and quick-sizzled in the wok.
The old standby Rotel Dip---that little pot must have a one-inch-thick base, and stays hot for a LONG time.
Crudite, egg salad and Ritz, and a just-cut pineapple with some little orange frou-frou picks just because.
Some from-the-freezer little round potato crispies, with fresh-grated Parm and bacon. They’re calling them TOT-Chos on Pinterest, I see.
Guacamole by Sis’ recipe, with lime and minced onion and tomato.
Egg and Olive Spread.
Caro made the S’Mores Brownies, with a chocolate-chip-cookie crust with Graham crackers and squares of little Hershey bars laid on. The marshmallows were the oddest things---I swear they look as if they were created by CG in a movie, with those shining contours and the etereal curves. It was as if we'd served ghosts of marshmallows in the pan---their selves were just gone, leaving beautiful shattery shells.
I have no idea how they were cooked, but they were solid and crisp as a thin-thin cookie, hollow as air, with the unmistakable deep-sweet toasted scent. That burnt-sugar/vanilla flavor was irresistible, as we picked the solid little shells from the top and crunched them one by one, tasting childhood Summers in every bite.
It was a lovely party, and we enjoyed being together.
And Peyton is just the definition of CLASS. All the way.