Everyone says not to worry about the food. “Forget about me; I’m not going to have anything.” “We’ll decide while we’re watching.” “I’m having dinner before.“ I have such easy guests.
I decide to buy things for a salad, just in case. I also pick up an array of snack foods: a wedge of istara cheese (my favorite), mousse truffle pate, small red grapes, vegetable chips, homemade salsa (as in, homemade by Agata, not me), chocolate chip cookies, and cut up French bread.
I don’t want to overeat so I heat up a package of frozen Garden Lites Zucchini-Portabella before everyone arrives. It’s been highly recommended by some people at Weight Watchers. The instructions say to heat on high for 6 to 8 minutes but cautions that microwave times may vary due to wattage. Do people really know the wattage of their microwaves, and if so, how wattage translates to heating times? Well I don’t. I’m getting other stuff ready when I hear a strange crackling sound and then see a bright glow coming from my microwave. Just a small fire. I open the door and pull out some dead looking all black monstrosity. I manage to salvage about a half teaspoon. I think it would have been good.
My guests come with red wine, chocolates, edamame, and sunflower seeds. Later Alexander goes out and brings back pizza. We finish everything.
The laughs overpower the food and I eat with restraint. Avatar wins best picture, the only important film I haven’t seen.
After everyone leaves, I sit down with Alexander who is eating cinnamon ice cream; he begrudgingly allows me to indulge four tablespoons. Not because he’s supporting my weight-loss, but rather because the ice cream is just too good.
No comments:
Post a Comment