The Dinner Party -or- The Three Stooges and a Studio Kitchen

Augustine, Ben, Jen, and I secured a date for my first dinner party at the studio (tonight at 5). I finalized the menu (blade steaks with marsala mushroom sauce and angel hair tossed with garlic, basil, and tomatoes). I sent Ben out for wine, gave myself an hour to cook everything properly. The angel hair did its thing in my (now priceless) electric skillet, while the steaks broiled in Lenny and the sauce mingled on the hot plate (in a sauce pot, of course).

Five minutes passed. Ten. Augustine has a habit of running late, but this is excessive. Perhaps he and Jen stopped to get wine?

The phone rang. Jen has been waiting for Augustine at the dorms. She called and texted him, asking if he would rather meet at the church, but he had not answered. My calls to him went straight to voice mail.

I stared at my finished (and lovely) dinner creation in horror. I had no idea how long they would be, so I couldn't in good conscience let dinner get cold (microwaving is murder in my house). I also couldn't keep it warm forever, lest the steak dry out and the sauce boil down to mushroom-flavored cream-infused Jello. I did what I could by brushing the steaks, lowering Lenny's temperature, adding way too much marsala wine to the sauce (and having to balance it out with other frantically-measured ingredients), and setting the already tossed angel hair on top of Lenny to keep warm.

I was assembling a rescue party for Jen at half past five, just as Augustine showed up. I barked at him; he barked at me. (We love each other, but neither of us handles hunger in the most adult way.) He ran off to get Jen, I looked in despair at my dehydrated meal, and tried my best not to use a blade steak as a Frisbee.

By the time Augustine and Jen had arrived I had given up on the meal. I was outside, feeding apples and carrots to the deer and envying them for the delicious freshness of their meal (and their meat, to be perfectly honest). Everyone still had dinner, but it consisted of a dry blade steak drowned in a mushroom sauce that was now too sweet and angel hair primavera that had gone stiff. Augustine and Jen still complimented the meal and thanked me for the invitation, but it was a serious blow to my surge of confidence. It will probably be a while until I have another dinner party.