One of many great memories I have of our college years with Katie happened at the start of our junior year. We had just moved off campus to a place called The Doll House which was situated between two houses full of men. Come to think of it, the entire block was made up of houses with only male tenants. Right next to us was the Stucco house, inhabited by eight boys and on the other side was a duplex with about ten more. As a kick off to the school year and a way to get to know our neighbors, Katie decided it would be a good idea to invite them all to dinner. By junior year most of our new friends were used to a steady diet of pizza and cafeteria food with a little ramen thrown in for balance. This was definitely not what Katie had in mind. Not only would we invite probably 15+ guys for dinner but we would make her mom’s famous chicken spaghetti with all of the proper accompaniments – garlic bread, salad, and for dessert bananas foster. That’s right, a flaming after-dinner treat to culminate our feast. The only stipulation was that these men had to bring their own plates and utensils as we were a little short. Looking back on it I’m not quite sure how we pulled it off since we had maybe one decent sharp knife to our credit and a hodgepodge of beat up pots and pans salvaged from garage sales or discarded by our parents. Nevertheless at the appointed time the boys arrived to find a bubbling pot of spicy, cheesy, chicken-y sauce on the stove. Katie also made sure there was a back up pot of traditional spaghetti sauce, just in case the aforementioned concoction proved too spicy for anyone’s delicate palate. We needn’t have bothered because this wasn’t the case. All of the work scooping vanilla ice cream into individual-sized portions and pre-freezing them ahead of time paid off after the meal as the lights were dimmed and Katie proceeded to flambé the bananas, complete with a sprinkling of cinnamon at the end for a touch of added pizzazz. These guys didn’t know what to make of their new crazy female neighbors with their apparent cooking skills and desire to entertain. I think they were sure they had done something right to be lucky enough to move in next door to the likes of Katie and her sous chefs. To be certain it was her kitchen, and we were just along for the ride. After all stomachs were filled we left the dishes to soak and made our way to the local bar to toast a successful meal and the company of our new neighbors and friends. It turned out to be one of many dinners we threw for the boys on our block that year and the following. They have Katie to thank for the variety in their diets and the warmth around the table at our house. She was the one with the imagination and the ambition to pull off parties like these, all in the name of being neighborly and gathering friends to celebrate something as simple as a Thursday night, just because we could. We basked in the glow of flaming bananas that night and forged friendships that continue to this day. Our ring leader is now watching us from a better place but we will do our best to continue the sense of hospitality and fun she taught us what now seems so long ago. And when we flame the bananas, we won’t forget the cinnamon, and of course we’ll drink a toast to you. -Kay
1 comment:
When making chicken spaghetti, she would set aside a batch of sauce without mushrooms for those of us who don't like them. So thoughtful. -Shelly
Post a Comment