Reid and Jennifer's Birthday Dinner

Jennifer and me...sorry Reid, no really good pictures of you to speak of.

So this dinner party was really fun and interesting on many counts. I've been working really hard on "remodeling" my rental apartment kitchen to make it more condusive for having people over for dinners. The cupboards are painted, the hinges and pulls are replaced. A brand new dishwasher is installed. I've put up some crazy seventies wallpaper and reupholstered the dining chairs and even repaired the trick ones. So, save the countertop mosaic tiling, my whole apartment has undergone quite a transformation. I've got actual worksurfaces and plenty of dishes, so it was time to throw my inaugural party. Reid and Jennifer's closely occuring birthdays seemed just the excuse. It was a hard thing to decide on because I really wanted a "fancy" sitdown affair. I landed on six as a comfortable number. That seemed altogether too exclusive for a proper party, so I decided to have the dinner first followed by a full on coctail party.

I've been reading a whole lot about dinners, eating, hosting, recipies, traditions, etc. So I've had all sorts of things on my mind. Larousse Gastronomique by Prosper Montagne and The Rituals of Dinner by Margaret Visser are the two books that I've been spending most of my reading and thinking energy on. From the banquet entry of "Larousse Gastronomique" I learned that in Roman times there was a tradition that any person that came to your house would be treated as a god. And indeed there are myths that speak of gods disguising themselves as guests in order to test the mortals on their hospitality. The most notabe example being that of Amphytryon. As for "The Rituals of Dinner," I've been reading her chapters about host and guest rituals, manners and tacit cultural understandings of these things. This party in particular was a sort of amalgamation and test of some of the ideas I've been toying with.

To this point, my apartment hasn't really been set up for dinner parties on the scale that I've become used to thanks to Jennifer and Reid. Their recently remodeled home includes a wonderful, large kitchen with all the best cooking equipment and appliances. They have a lovely dining room with a table big enough for twelve. The last two Christmases, we have collectively thrown spectacular dinner parties with exotic ingredients, carefully chosen menus paired with Reid's expert wine choices. All of it has been a wonderful collective effort, but I was really curious to try this out in my own apartment. I made some risky food choices. But I think the dinner was a big success.

Strangely enough, there have been three separate "freakouts" that have come up for me in relation to this one single party. The first one was telling a dear friend that in fact he wasn't invited to the dinner portion of the evening. This was especially hard for me because he's been going through some rough times right now, and I felt like it would have been "the nice thing to do" to invite him. The second was inviting another friend to the coctail portion, but also telling him that his girlfriend was NOT welcome. Geez, I don't really know how I've gotten so wrapped up in the idea that I need to be "true" to my feelings and honest with my friends; but it really sucks having to tell someone that they're not invited or that their girlfriend isn't. Lastly, I got wind that woman that I'm really not particularly fond of seemed to have invited themself. I dismissed this rumor with the idea that the mutual friends involved knew better, but indeed, she DID show up uninvited.

Now how does this play itself out? Well, first I still think friend A's feelings might be hurt, friend B didn't show at all, and well, univited guest C? I was totally rude to her as well as one of the mutual friends. So whereas the dinner portion of the evening was a smashing success, the coctail portion has left me feeling very lacking in hosting skills. The dinner was rather an expensive feat for me to pull off. I was glad to do it and have absolutely no regrets. I would have done it anyway, but coincidentally, Reid and Jennifer treated me to TWO extravagant nights out to dinner this past week. With the expense of the dinner and the fact that I asked each invited guest to bring a drinkable item, I left myself rather unprepared for the number of guests that arrived empty handed. Ordinarily this is never a problem, there is always plenty to go arround, just help yourself. Somehow last night left me feeling like I'd been caught with my pants down.

So uninvited girl shows up with uninvited boyfriend and two mutual friends. The clever one shows up with her classic favorite: Crown Royal. The former must have had three drinks a piece in the first 15 minutes they were there, and I was starting to get really annoyed, so in my best southern lady manners, I offered her an extra small drink in an extra small glass. She definitely registered something that was more surprise than understanding, so I just smiled huge and said, "Cheers!" in the most exaggeratedly cheerful voice I could muster. To make matters worse I told off my friend for having brought her AND for showing up empty handed AND for drinking more than his due...and what the hell??? Am I the worst host ever? I mean after reading all this stuff on hosting and manners, I turn straight around and dump it all and go for the bad behavior award. I think I need more practice.

If you're still with me after all of that, this was the dinner menu and a brief synopsis.

All of the recipes came from the March 2006 Special Issue of Saveur. Being that it was the March issue, they featured several stories and recipies from Ireland, and that seemed like a really fun seasonal fare for Jennifer's March birthday. There was an intersting looking recipe for stinging nettle soup, but being that I don't know where or how to pick it, I settled on watercress as a substitution. Very peppery and garnished with a heavy cream swirl and a fresh sprig of cress, it turned out to be a very popular contender for the favorite dish of the evening. In making this dish, I have discovered the best ever chicken broth that will always be a standby in my cupboard: Swanson's Certified Organic Chicken Broth. It tasted like my own homemade but better. One word to the wise though, it's rather salty to start, so be careful if you're using it as a soup base and your recipe calls for salt.

The Soup Course: Watercress Soup

2 T Butter
1 med onion, peeled and chopped
7 c Swanson's Certified Organic Chicken Broth
2 medium red potatos, peeled and chopped
1 leek, trimmed, white and light green parts only, washed and chopped
1 bunch watercress, trimmed, washed and drained (about three tightly packed cups)
salt and freshly ground pepper

Sauté the onion in the butter until softened. Add the chopped leeks and continue to sauté until just wilted. The onions will have started to caramelize by now. Add the potatos and chicken broth and bring to a boil, turn heat down and simmer until the potatos are cooked through and yielding easily to a fork. Add the cress and stir briefly. When the leaves are just wilted and the stems seem to be just softened but the color is still bright, take off the heat and blend until smooth. Work in small batches with the blender to avoid a soup explosion.

Drizzle about a teaspoon or more of heavy cream on top and swirl, garnish with a little sprig of cress or other greenery.

The Fish Course: Whole Lobsters Served with Melted Butter
Look up the recipe in Saveur, it sounds just perfect, but I was pressed for time, so I opted for the directions on the bag they placed my lobsters in. It was just a quick boil of ten minutes. I added a ton of salt, 1 halved lemon, 1 quartered onion, 1T peppercorns, 6 bay leaves, 1 T thyme and that was it. I've never really done live lobster before, and the tail meat was surprisingly tough, so I'm curious to try Myrtle Allen's methodology to see if it makes a difference. When you have 1-1/2 hours to spend on your fish course, give it a try.

The Main Entrée: Spring Lamb's Livers, Colcannon and Watercress Radish Salad

The lamb liver felt like quite a risky choice for the main course, but I really felt that there had to be love for liver in our group of friends. What with Lisa's beloved chicken liver and bacon pâté and our gushing love for foie gras this past Christmas Eve, it seemed like it would be a well calculated risk. The livers were very yummy and rich. There was a definite iron flavor, but it wasn't overpowering, and the texture was lovely and soft. The creamy mashed potatos of the colcannon was a great vehicle to sop up all the delicous creamy onion gravy, and the pepper snap and bright lemon viniagrette all came together really successfully. Jennifer declared it a "great plate." Well too, the absolutely clean plates afterward were proof positive that I was on the right track.

Colcannon

3 lbs large red potatos, peeled and chopped
10 T butter!!!
1/3 small head cabbage, cored and sliced into 1/2" thick strips
2 lightly packed cups kale (one bunch)
1c whole milk
4 scallions, green parts only, chopped
salt and freshly ground pepper

Boil the potatos in salted water until yielding to a fork. At the same time, place cabbage in a small covered pot with 2T butter and 1/2 c water. Bring to boil and then simmer until the cabbage is wilted. Take off heat, drain and set aside.

Blanch the kale briefly in the boiling potatos. This helps reduce the bitterness. Trim leafy bits away from the woody stem and then slice thinly and sauté in 2T butter until cooked but still bright green. Add to the cabbage and set aside.

Boil the milk and 6T butter with the scallions until the scallions are wilted. Add this to the drained potatos and masha masha masha. Add in the reserved greens and cabbage, stir thouroughly. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust.


Lamb's Liver with Whiskey and Cream

2 lobes (~1lb.) fresh young lamb's liver, membranes removed and sliced into 1/2" sections
2 c milk
salt
4T butter
1 large yellow onion, peeled and diced small
1T Jameson
1T whole grain mustard
1/2 c heavy cream
freshly ground black pepper
1T chopped garlic chives

Rinse and drain the liver slices and place in one layer in a nonreactive bowl or tray, add milk. Cover with plastic wrap and refridgerate over night.

Next day just before preparing, drain livers and rinse lightly. Pat dry with a dish towel.

Melt 2T butter in cast iron skillet and sauté onion until lightly browned, remove to warming tray.

In the same skillet, melt 2T butter until sizzling and sear livers both sides until golden brown. This should take approximately 1-1/2 minutes per side. Remove to warming tray.

Deglaze with whiskey add back onion, mustard and cream. Bring to a simmer and add back livers. Stir thoroughly until the livers are warmed through.

Serve atop a pile of colcannon, ladle with extra gravy and garnish with chopped garlic chives.

For the salad, I washed, trimmed and lightly chopped 1 bunch of watercress. To this I added about 8 thinly sliced radishes. For extra unexpected fancy, slice them in the same direction they grow and leave the long root intact and some of the green stems. Toss with lemon viniagrette.

For the lemon viniagrette:

juice of a lemon
1/2 t salt
pepper
1T sugar
1T whole grain mustard
1 mashed garlic clove
1/4 to 1/2c olive oil

Place all in a jelly jar and shake well together. Taste for salt and sour balance. Adjust with more sugar as neccessary.


So there was meant to be a sorbet course with fresh blood oranges to cleanse the pallete before the cheese course, but I was feeling pressed for time, so we skipped it. The cheese course was a variety of lovelies from the UK including a strange coffee noted smoked cheddar and stilton with blueberries in it.

For desset: Tipsy Puddings
They're really much prettier than they tasted. They were too tart and since I'd made them a day ahead, they were surprisingly dry and tough, the liquid didn't soak all through. Just whatever hohum. I'll leave off the recipe. You can look it up in the mag if you're really interested.