Like hams through the hourglass…

I was offered a task this morning.  A paying job of fixing breakfast for a couple and six great fallsother visiting guests at their “vacation” home along the Potomac.  The balcony/back deck on this place was the size of…  most of our homes with regard to square footage.  There was an outdoor kitchen that I wanted to use – but with the weather as it was…  We did get to dine outside which made the event really special.  The crisp morning air overlooking “almost” heaven.  I was a proud wanna be private chef for all of three hours.  Not counting the two that I had previous – the note read:  “Morning Charley, there’s going to be 20 of us after all.  Hope this is not a problem.  – H”

The original request was NO BREAKFAST FOOD.  (i.e. cereal, oatmeal, muffins)  A second request was undo and surprise.  The surprise I did not understand as being on me.  The original guest list was 8.  Maybe 7.  I prepped for 12.  (Somebody always asks is there

Post-Script:  After some brief research – my brainstorm wasn’t as original as once hoped.  Appears that espresso and champagne have been combined with frothed milk before I did it.

more…)  Another request was to make use of, if not use up a half case of Champagne.

Inspired by a 4 a.m. run to (Undisclosed location because I promised not to say where we went.) I slow roasted some pork with mediterranean spices.  With a little corn meal and lots of egg created a gyro of sorts to be filled with the pork and a Mescaline mix/ed salad of sliced green olives, strawberries and balsamic – tahini glace.  I leaned on an old favorite to be the American palate version of “Huh?”,  Fuhl. And what ended up being one of my new favorites… Perky Mimosa. (I’ve got to research this one. I may have created a new coffee drink, of sorts.
Did I mention I was to cook for 8 and ended up feeding 20.
Yes, I know I said I was running to Weis. Walmart was closer and the salad had to be stretched. Everything else was covered. (Phew!)  As guests began filtering out into the dining and kitchen area.  Many took a coffee to the deck.  Some chatted with me.  Others hoped not to be recognized.  There was one that thought but really was not sure that they knew me.  “You remind me of this “old” guy that use to go to The Club…”  Then came the obligatory “NO!”, followed by, “Shut – up.”  and “That can’t be you.”  Others were anxious for service – and so it was, the 11:30 was started at 10:50, on the deck and forty minutes potomac viewearly.  Three picnic tables had been prepped and laid out and wiped down.  Success.  And maybe future appointments.
There was a really big compliment given, “the guy that lands you is going to get a really great husband.”  (References, and referrals accepted.  Curriculum Vitae on file.)
It’s coming up on the third anniversary of Jon’s passing.  The hole seems a bit larger.  And well wishes like this seem, I hate to suggest, empty, although well meaning.  The latest in the “See Info” compilation was this gem from an old favorite, Ronan Keating.  The info screen had a note, an apology of sorts for what he called our “fight” over his lack of communication, the love notes and flirting. “I hope these songs and notes make up for that messy love stuff when ditto works as well. -Jon”  To be quite honest, it does, but maybe more so now when you aren’t here to tell me yourself.  I have backed up my back up so that I don’t loose these songs off my iPod/iTunes.