We're driving up tonight after we get home from work. I'm on board for Saturday night's Big Pasta dinner with spaghetti with meat sauce or pesto, Caesar salad, and birthday cake. Most of it is made and ready to go. I'll frost the cake when I get there. We'll have about thirty people, which after a couple years of making spaghetti for evening events at Sophie's school for several times that number sounds like sort of a Medium Pasta dinner. And want to bet people will be appreciative? And not find something to complain about? Right—these people are my friends (I'm done cooking for the school for the time being, possibly forever).
Husband is all over the wine, something he takes very seriously. He emerged from his cellar (otherwise known as our basement) the other night with his selections. He's even packing his decanter.
Sophie has her own ideas about what we should pack. Husband asked if I wanted to take my car (a Honda CRV) or our vanaroo (a VW van with a Suburu conversion engine). I said I didn't care and tossed the question to Sophie. "Definitely the van! So we can take more stuff. Life the chestnut pan!!"
The house in which we'll be staying has a woodstove and we bought some fresh chestnuts at the produce market the other day, so why not? I'm not crazy about how roasted chestnuts taste (Sophie and Husband love them), but you can't argue with how they make the house smell.
We are overdue for some relaxation and time with our favorite people, the Usual Suspects. And we can't think of a better reason than celebrating this man (pictured here with Husband, on the left). And no, his name isn't really Morty, which is a nickname given to him when it was determined at some point that there were too many Matts around. Wouldn't you like to look like that at fiddy?
Have a great weekend!