Guy, Alton and Friends Who Let Friends Order Too Much Food

Have you ever been to Marietta, Ga.? I’d sort of skirted around it a few times — and, of course, being a Southern well-versed in my Confederate history, when I hear “Marietta” I also hear the sounds of Sherman’s invasion (they’re still peeved about that, you know) and the Great Locomotive Chase. But now I’m adding this town to my list of food destinations, starting with the Marietta Diner, which is only a “diner” in the sense that people go there to eat. It’s a large, noisy, family-friendly, food-abundant destination. We went with friends during a recent wedding weekend in nearby Kennesaw. Don had been there before and suggested we try it, although he couldn’t really describe the place. “It’s big,” he said, helplessly. “There’s a lot of food.” I wish I’d listened to him before I ordered pan-fried feta cheese in lemon butter for the table as an appetizer, although it was so good that I’m not sorry at all. Then came soup. And salad. And squares of spinach pie. (I can’t spell “spanakopita.”) And bread. And THEN came the entrees you ordered oh-so-long-ago when you first thought you were hungry. (All this, I might add, while in sight of tempting cakes, cookies and other desserts staring at you from the bakery section. Ouch.) I got kabobs because USUALLY that translates into a smaller and more manageable dish. But …. no. All you need to know is that the Marietta Diner is one of Guy Fieri’s top “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.” I believe that about sums it up. Also, Alton Brown and his family reportedly live in Marietta. Although I didn’t spot him at the diner, I have the feeling that in public he sort of blends in and you would only notice him in passing and think “Who’s that geeky looking guy who forgot to shave?” Stay tuned for another Marietta post about the biggest, most gigantic and most huge liquor/wine/beer store I have ever seen in my life. And that’s saying something.

When Life Gives You Parties, Make Mimosas

We aren’t bragging or anything — well, I obviously am, although the rest of this group is much better behaved —  but a group of friends and I have pretty much perfected party-hostessing. Seems as if every year one of our children is getting married or getting engaged or graduating or having a baby, and naturally each of these occasions calls for a celebration. We can plan a party at the drop of a (wide-brimmed, ribbon-decorated white straw) hat and check off half of our to-do lists before the men in our lives — who, even after all these years, still do not understand the difference between “tea” and “brunch” — can ask “Tell me again why you pay so much for flowers when the side of the road is full of them?” Take, for example, the bridal shower a few weeks ago that we hosted in an old bank in the once-thriving and now-quiet Sweetwater business district of Florence, Ala. Recently the space had been a restaurant and the owner now rents it for events. We originally thought “rustic,” “vintage” and “weathered” were appropriate decor themes to coordinate with the exposed brick walls, tin ceilings and original woodwork. However, a professional we consulted — we’re always up for a second opinion — suggested we go sleek, sophisticated and girly instead for a visually intriguing contrast. And she was correct. The light and airy silver “bamboo” chairs paired with snowy white linens and stunningly tall tropical-flower centerpieces were the perfect touches. Add a steady supply of mimosas, good times and good friends and you’ve got a party. I told you we are good!

If It’s Tuesday, It Must Be Mardi Gras

Have fun letting your good times roll today — whether you’re eating King Cake (watch out for that baby) or pancakes or paczki or your completely-bad-for-you pastry of choice. Of course, nothing goes better with eating rich fried sugary food than our other favorite activity: shopping. Younger Daughter and I spotted this could-be Mardi Gras wreath in Nellie Mae, an adorable boutique in downtown Tuscumbia, Ala., that’s owned by classmates of Older Daughter. And that sort of threw me. I mean, I’m used to my children’s friends being old enough to check my teeth and fill my prescriptions and give me speeding tickets, but buying clothes and jewelry from people I used to chaperon on field trips takes some getting used to. (Stay tuned for more Nellie Mae photos and other downtown-Tuscumbia finds — so cute!)

Wedding Bliss

Who doesn’t love a good wedding? I mean, you’ve got food & drink & cake & music & friends & mingling & can-you-believe-what-she’s-got-on all in one space — and when the bride and groom truly love each other and are looking forward to beginning a life together … well, that’s even better. Like a recent wedding Husband JP and I went to in Oxford, MississippiOle Miss territory. It was sweet and simple and festive. Not over- or under-done. The young couple  were joyously delighted to be getting married and sharing their day with their special people, and that spirit shone through every detail. At the ceremony — held in an Oxford church north of downtown — the bride was beautiful, the groom was adorably nervous and the  church’s minister blended humor and faith with a dash of irreverence and a healthy respect for marriage that resulted in perfect officiating. Then came the mad dash and eternal quest for parking space in Oxford’s downtown square as folks drove back for the reception at the Oxford University Club.  The gorgeous fall evening meant the party took full advantage of the club’s outstanding second-floor outdoor space for dancing, dining and drinking al fresco, while the inside dining room was just right for cozy meeting and greeting. Despite a minor mishap at the mashed-potato bar — who knew a pyramid of martini glasses could be so unstable? — it was a fun night and a lovely wedding and we were honored to be a part of it.

Back to Blogging!

Yay! I’ve got my laptop back. It’s all fast & speedy and, as 3 1/2 year-old grandson Capt. Adorable says, “I missed it soooo much.” I know I could have written a blog entry on any of the other computers I used while my laptop was in Computer Hospital (thanks, Husband JP, for patiently ignoring the coffee stains & bagel crumbs I left on yours) but it just wasn’t the same.  My laptop understands me. We get each other’s quirks. I know the “j” key gets stuck, and my laptop knows I can’t spell “camouflage” — an essential word here in Mississippi — without help. We’re a team.

And it was a team effort (how’s that for a smooth segue?) that pulled off a recent bridal luncheon I went to at The Club, a venerated icon of Birmingham, Ala. This is what happens when you know people who know people — you get invited to fancy places.  Luckily, the folks I know who hang out at The Club aren’t really fancy — they were just sort of brought up that way — so everybody’s comfortable and casual and has a great time. I loved the table decor for the bridal luncheon – the little pumpkins were place-cards and had each guest’s name written on them. The centerpieces were perfect, and the touches of fall throughout the room only enhanced the gorgeous view of Birmingham we could admire through the huge windows. The food was delicious and — most importantly — the party was a blast.  This luncheon was for the daughter of one of my good friends. They used to live around the corner from us, and I watched her, her sister and my two daughters and their friends grow up into the strong, beautiful, talented, kind, smart and awesomely wonderful young women they are today. Who have really fun bridal luncheons.

Reflections

It was a good weekend for reflecting ... and telling the people you care about that you love them. (Photo taken 9/10/11 on Wilson Lake at Doublehead Resort, Town Creek, Ala.)

 

Things I’ve Learned This Past Weekend

Random thoughts, as a former co-worker used to say, from a cluttered mind:

1) I have fearless and perhaps slightly insane friends, such as my Alabama friend who did not let a little thing like a hurricane stop her from driving up to Baltimore and helping her daughter and future son-in-law move there from Atlanta.  “There sure are a lot of cars driving the opposite way,” she said from the road on Friday night.

2) I have fearless and determined children, such as Younger Daughter, who is not letting university dysfunction and red-tape deter her from taking the classes she wants to take — and who, in the process, gained some appreciation for parental efforts. “When I was in school, I just showed up to class and didn’t realize all it took to get there,” she said.

3) I have fearless and smart grandchildren, such as 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable (also currently my only grandchild) who  put up with a noisy family party just long enough to be polite and then grabbed his aunt’s hand for a quick getaway, knowing she was as ready to slip outside as he was. The Captain also was apprehensive about a tree-cutting project that involved a loud chainsaw and a great deal of shouting but did not want to miss out on the action — he knew he could hang with his daddy and be assured of staying safe and secure.

4) I have fearless yet generous parents, who said, “Sure. Of course. How can we help?” when I volunteered their nursery/tree farm for a gathering of my high-school class. Couldn’t have done it without them.

5) I have fearless and fun classmates, who don’t worry about wrinkles and bad knees and expanding waistlines but simply want to reconnect and share. And eat wonderfully yummy food and drink local hometown wine.

How Many Women Does It Take To Host a Bridal Shower?

Answer: Five — one to be the decorator, one to be the chef, one to lose her car keys, one to obsess about the eggs getting cold and one to be the calm and peaceful center of it all — and she was the one whose house we had invaded. Five of us gathered together this weekend to host a brunch/shower for the bride-to-be daughter of another dear friend, and it was a great success. There were a few chaotic moments, naturally. Such as when we first were faced with an empty table and no real traffic-flow plan. Or when each of us at different times couldn’t find our A) phones, B) car keys or C) shoes. Or when one of our daughters — who shall remain nameless — asked the hostessing moms in honest curiosity, “Uh … what was y’all’s color scheme, again?” (This was the event for which we exuberantly made lots of tissue-paper flowers. Lots of them. In whatever colors of tissue paper we could score on sale find to match the lovely Gail Pittman dishes one of us bravely offered up.) But it all came together and our enthusiastic abundance of various colors saved us tons of money simply underscored the joyous celebration. And the idea from our chief chef to serve scrambled eggs in martini glasses and let guests add toppings was genius. Genius! So much fun, and of course the scrambled eggs stayed toasty warm in the chafing dish as promised. Add to that fresh fruit, cheese, and a variety of breads along with the local must-have of delicate almond-flavored petit fours and we had a delicious and pretty menu. It was as much fun for us, the hostesses, as it was for everybody else — and that’s the best kind of party to have.  The mimosas helped, too.

Jana & Claire: Do Not Read This Post. Look Away! Thank You.

My house was blooming the other night when friends who are co-hosting a bridal shower for the daughter of another BFF came over to make tissue-paper flowers for the decor. These colorful blossoms have been popping up everywhere recently — I see them in store windows and displays. They’re even Martha-Stewart-approved, and she has a video tutorial on how to make them. But we tapped in to our many-decades-ago high-school memories of decorating homecoming floats and transforming gyms into dance floors and didn’t even need Martha’s help. You just layer sheets of tissue paper, pleat as if you’re making a fan, fold in half and scrunch up the center and secure with a pipe cleaner. Then, it’s on the fun part of separating the layers and shaking them out into a flower. We got better with each attempt and soon were experimenting with different colors and sizes. We’re not exactly sure what we’re going to do with them now, but they sure are impressive! This is easy enough for even awkward, uncoordinated and clumsy non-crafty folks like me to attempt and yet creative enough for talented crafters, like my friend on the left in the photo above, to be inspired. You see, after our flower-making marathon, she went home and stayed up until 2 a.m. making corsages out of fabric and netting, using the same tissue-paper principle. I, on the other hand,  drank more wine and went to bed.

P.S. I warned Jana & Claire, the mother of the bride-to-be and the bride-to-be herself, not to look at this post, but they probably did and now are hoping that my flowers somehow don’t make it to the shower in favor of the gorgeous ones everybody else created.  But I’m redeeming myself by bringing coffee and herb-cheese biscuits, so maybe that will help.

Confession, Target and Paper Towels

My four-woman book club was at my house the other night, and I’m so glad because it’s only when company comes that I look at our ratty salsa-stained napkins and think, “I really should buy new ones,” and then of course it’s just a baby step to buying a new tablecloth because you simply cannot put old napkins on a new tablecloth and naturally then you need new coasters because the old ones just will not do and before you know it you’re lugging two big bags out of Target and thinking, “But I just went in for some new napkins” — which, we all know, is Target’s Master Plan to Take Over the World. Or, at least, to make a dent in my bank account. I was practicing what to tell my husband (the on-the-defensive offense of “How can you ask me if I just bought these? I’ll have you know I take our household budget very seriously and I can’t believe you think I’d just go out and buy some new things. And furthermore …” was a possibility) but so far he hasn’t noticed, so I figure I’m safe. Or maybe I should just come out and tell him. Sort of like the other morning when I was at Older Daughter’s house with 3-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable while she and my son-in-law were out. I was puttering and didn’t notice that the Captain had gleefully unrolled a whole roll of paper towels in the hallway to “make a sled.” Yikes. I knew this contravened a Mommy rule and I wasn’t anxious to have another — another! — black mark on my grandmotherly babysitting record.  “Uh-oh,” I said, as unsuccessfully tried to re-roll, “what happened here?” With that innocent look of “What? Who? Me?” that’s perfected so early, the Captain shrugged and said with no irony whatsoever, “The paper towels got long, Kacky.” Brilliant! Genius! Our ticket to redemption! It wasn’t a lie because that’s exactly what happened. “Right!” I said. “That’s what we’ll tell Mommy when she asks what happened.” We practiced a couple of times and I thought all was well, until Mommy came home and the Captain forgot his lines at the crucial moment: “I’m sorry, Mommy. When Kacky wasn’t looking, I took the paper towels and rolled them out in the hall.” Ouch — a double whammy of confession and implication. But it wasn’t so bad, since both the Captain and I escaped with only a stern warning look. And of course we talked later about the importance of always telling Mommy and Daddy the truth — and leaving Kacky out of it.