The Undomestic at Christmas
The blogging world is full of impressive sorts. Domestic Goddesses who can deftly change a diaper with one hand and prepare a four-course meal with the other. And this time of year? This is when they positively shine.
I’m am not of this number.
I am of the undomestic persuasion. We usually try to keep below the radar – especially this time of year. When someone suggests the exchange of homemade gifts, we break out in a cold sweat. And the thought of hosting a dinner party is enough to throw us right over the snow-packed edge.
Occasionally, however, we rise to the occasion. At least we are valiant in our attempt.
A couple weeks ago, for instance, my friend Kristi and I planned to go to a movie … during the day … while everyone else slaved away at their day jobs. We’ve been planning to do this since we both lost our jobs, over a year ago – because it’s fun, and we can.
I offered to make lunch. This was mistake Number One. Mistake Number Two was thinking I had more time than I did, followed quickly by Mistake Number Three: using a new recipe.
Aaah yes, the infamous New Recipe for Company approach. Note, this should only be attempted by professionals – which I so obviously am not. But like a small pup who thinks he’s big, I always feel a bit more confident than I ought. So off I set to make a delectable Ham, Cheese, and Jalepeno Quiche.
When Kristi arrived the kitchen was in complete disarray. There was a piece of bacon – a whole piece of bacon – flung halfway across the room, and I have no idea how it got there. I only had half the ingredients in the pie crust, and it was brimming to overfull. I was attempting to mash it down with my hands as if applying chest compressions.
Now, you must know, Kristi’s family is not-so-very keen on germs. This had to be quite the shock – and to no avail, I might add. It was all for naught. Thankfully I had an extra pie crust in the fridge. I pulled it out, flopped it in a bigger pie pan, and plopped in the ingredients. Then, the baking. The recipe called for 35 minutes; it took an hour. By the time it was all said and done, we had fifteen minutes to eat.
Thankfully, while we waited, I snapped a picture of Kristi, waiting ever-so-patiently, along with her wilting salad (and yes, that is a paper plate you see; and thank goodness, because we would have never had time to do dishes before we ran out the door)…
Enough said.