When I did the majority of my entertaining, I had three young children close in age, 2 large house dogs, and three to four donkeys, depending on the year. It was nothing for a call to come in that someone was bringing 45 people home for a cocktail party as the planes weren’t flying. Three hundred people for an open house in the spring was standard although the really big parties I had catered as I found my kitchen just couldn’t handle a party for more than 80 people.
My children and I had a routine for unexpected company. First the toys and clutter went into square boxes which lined up to form a coffee table in the family room. Supplies were checked and the kids were sent to a small grocery store two blocks away where I had a charge account. Except for two years when I had the best neighbor, Carol H., I had no back up. The children and I were on our own.
Carol H. was the best of neighbors. We shared thoughts, concerns, ideas, child raising ideas, RECIPES (some of my richest decadent recipes come from her) and just generally supported each other. One night I received a call that company was coming for dinner. I had made an Atkins Diet soup, yes Atkins was popular in the 1970’s too. I needed vegetables to make the soup company acceptable. Off went the kids to the grocery store for dinner rolls and dessert. Off I went to Carol’s glassed in back porch where she kept her freezer. I am loading up on frozen vegetable when Carol and husband came out to see what was going on in their back porch. “Unexpected company” I yelled as I headed out the door with my arms full. It worked both ways. Carol was having her husband’s football team to dinner, she came running across the street, handed me a huge salad bowl and panted, “I need salad!” Off the kids went to the grocery store and I headed to the kitchen to chop up what I had in the refrigerator. Carol served more salad without missing a beat; I found out my unexpected company was just a joke which I did not find funny.
When planning an event I looked for recipes that could be made ahead, were quick or could stay warm for a period of time. The worst part of any party is the serving time. It is very stressful to get people seated and the food on the table. I never wanted to add to that stress by having anything that had to be cooked or assembled at the last minute. I wanted everything in the oven, ready in the refrigerator, assembled on covered trays or keeping warm in my trusty old electric frying pan.
There are the usual trials to any party. The weather, when I set up tables out on the patio. The dogs, who loved to get under foot at the worst time. In the 1970’s, keeping ashtrays available and emptied; you had to be vigilant or end up with cigarette burn on the furniture. Keeping the bar tender supplied with ice and making sure people were happy and answering their questions. One problem I had that most hostess have never thought about was donkeys on the run. Our donkeys liked to run off at the most inopportune times and when they did it was imperative that they be rounded up immediately before they got into trouble or caused trouble.
Donkeys are extremely smart. They are capable of working open all sorts of gate closures. We had four different types closing our gate and they could open them all. They were also capable of crawling on their knees to get through small holes that they make in the fences.
One lovely September day, I was having a luncheon for the new faculty wives. I had just gotten everyone seated and was taking my Grandma’s wonderful cornbread out of the oven when the phone rang. It was the police. “Your donkeys are out. Round them up and keep them off the highway.” There was no one to call. No back-up person. All I could do was make profuse apologizes. Gather the kids. Grab a dog leash, dog chain, or tie off my bathrobe. With everyone seating at the table waiting to be served lunch, I was running around the neighborhood looking for the stubborn, cunning, beloved creatures. After finally finding them, I had to get close enough to grab one. They thought of that as play time. I’d get close and reach, they’d take off. And so it went. Finally I got a dog chain on Jack. They like to stay together so if I got one the others would follow. By the time I was walking them home the newspaper photographer had showed up.
The caption under the picture read:
BURRO ON THE LOOSE: There is only one thing to do when a burro gets loose and that is to lead it home. And that is just what Mrs.--------------of Patterson St. did this week when the family’s pet burros, Kate and Jack, got through the pasture fence. They were located in the yard of Mr. and Mrs.------of East Randolph St. Burros are still rather uncommon in this area; however, they are growing in popularity.
Don’t you just love small town newspapers???? I told everyone that I was the one with the short ears. Daughter split a gut over the plaid pants when she saw this picture as an adult. I loved those pants and the suit jacket that went with them. And so now you can see why I like quick, easy, make-ahead, survives keeping warm recipes.
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