Do It Yourself

I had a writing deadline that midnight but I just had to do last-minute grocery shopping, put away the laundry, wipe out the dust and vacuum the apartment clean. I also had to make dinner for seven. H was at home but he was busy trying not to implode because of work, so I was left to do everything "on my own." How Les Miserables!

We had invited five people to dinner last Thursday, and it was the first real test for the Ikea table and a friend's wedding gift - two sets of Fjord design cutlery. It was also the first time we got to use the table napkins my mother brought. Yay!

Since it was still my birthday week, I got a present from sailing buddy C (A long-sleeved shirt that's perfect because my winter clothes are in Milan - where I've never been! Long story. Moving on.) and an artsy pair of earrings from Jazel (check out her online shop at http://rockandrule.weebly.com).

On the menu: Pancit, dry menudo, rice (but of course) and yogurt cake. Yes, yogurt cake. Couldn't believe it myself until I had to make it. If you're curious, e-mail me for the recipe.

The yogurt cake --

Flanked by jam and whipped cream... 

which dominated the latter part of the evening's conversation
due to its versatility

We were joined by H's long-time pal C, for whom I made the pancit especially...

and couples Aurel and Jazel (who ran out of adobo)...

and Mimi and Pete (who won brownie points for using all that Tagalog)

Our D-I-Y table held up pretty well, just as well as the D-I-Y food, thankyouverymuch.

When I told H last January that a dining table was the most important thing he could promise me, 

I was also thinking about moments like this - when holding a plate on your lap and drinking copious amounts of alcohol while deftly manipulating Scandanavian cutlery is just too much to expect when you're making juvenile jokes related to food... To me it meant transitioning from single life to married life, while retaining an offensive but charming sense of humor.

It's strange how a piece of furniture can make such a big difference in a bachelor's pad.

But that's just me, of course.

Pale Force!

By the way, the guests didn't leave the house until after midnight, but I still made the Cinderella deadline for the articles. I went back to writing at 30-to-12 but I couldn't help making wisecracks because Pete was getting tipsy. I was drunk as a skunk, but that never hurt Hemingway. 

Tagay!