‘Hear no evil, Speak no evil….and you’ll never be invited to a party’ : the wise words of Oscar Wilde.
And they’ve helped me reach a decision. I’ve been grappling with my moral conscience over whether to tell you about the disastrous dinner party I was recently invited to. But I think some good might come of this evil…
Previous to this one, the worst dinner offence I’d encountered was committed by a dear friend of mine. She cooked one organic roast chicken for eight people. I don’t know if she was trying to perform a miracle or an experiment, but we all went home hungry.
Then last Thursday, some ‘new’ friends whom we met skiing at Easter invited J and me for dinner. Not knowing anyone, J and I arrived at their door feeling like it was the first day of school. We clasped clammy hands and held our breath, hoping to be liked. The door opened and behind our beleaguered looking hostess was something not dissimilar to Kindergarten chaos. Children running amok, dogs bounding about and wisps of acrid smoke leaking into the hallway.
‘I’m sorry!’ she blurted, as she ushered us onto her sinking ship, ‘I got distracted by the beef wellington, and burnt the toffee for the banoffee!’ I felt like I was stepping into a recurring nightmare I’ve had for years, only this time I wasn’t the protagonist. I offered to help. ‘Could you possibly set the table?!’ she squeaked apologetically, as she lead me straight into the dining room (J was a big boy and went to meet the other guests on his own.) Still in my coat, I did my best with the mismatching crockery, no placemats and kitchen roll for napkins…
Her husband had been dispatched to buy wine, which he’d forgotten to order in advance. He returned with an array of bottles courtesy of the local petrol station and I thought his wife might explode. She simmered as we sat down and her husband carved the beef wellington. But when rounds of undercooked pastry sliding off overdone meat were dished out, she utterly deflated. ‘Somebody shoot me…’ she sighed, shaking her head, ‘entertaining is so complicated – I just can’t do it anymore.’ She looked broken.
When I got home that night, I started thinking about all the dinner party disasters from the past that I have either created or been witness too. Too many, way too many. Then I got thinking about how it shouldn’t be like this, and doesn’t have to be like this. What if I made Scarlett Willow a one-stop-shop for the best ideas and inspiration for dinner parties? What if I found a panel of experts who, every month, could create the perfect, fool-proof, simple but delicious recipe, along with recommendations for delicious accompanying wines, and dazzling ways to make the table and atmosphere magical!
Well, I’ve done it. Next month we will be launching a monthly e-newsletter for our customers and within it there will be a regular ‘Dine’, ‘Wine’, and ‘Sublime’ section with expert guidance and tips from connoisseurs to create the kind of dinner party you dream about.
My poor friend though. I couldn’t get her words out of my head. In gratitude for the evening (and of course for the inspiration!), I sent her a set of coasters in the lovely red presentation box. Choosing the design was easy: having asked to be put out of her misery, the Banging Collection seemed apt. But really, a dinner party shouldn’t be a life/death situation.
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