How I Host Dinner

Image by Steve-h via Flickr

My friends and I meet for dinner just about every Friday night. We are our family. All of us are transplants. I'm from Michigan. Becky and Aaron are from Wisconsin. Katielee and Mike came up from Miami a few months ago. Christine and Jamal left Key West for college here in Tampa. Some of us have family here in Florida. I think my family wins at being only an hour away. So essentially, we are each others family here. So we get together on Friday for dinner and Family Game Night. Each week we take turns hosting. Sharing our home, making dinner for 7 or 8, and making our Friday night worth staying in for.

I have been so ashamed of my home (especially after seeing theirs) that I never had people over. I only just got furniture so that my apartment finally stops looking like I'm squatting. The only wall art I have are 3 family portaits (including my sister's Senior pic from 2006) and a few nature prints from my aunt (so not my style). Nothing that even resembles a theme or a color palate. So I kept people far, far away. Until one day, I knew it was time. I feel so much pressure (from myself) to share my home. To share the burden of dinner and hospitality with the others. As much of a struggle as it was for me, it had to be difficult for the others as well. So I offered my home.

I was a tangle of worry from the moment I said come. I could go on and on about how undomestic I am and how disastrously not clean my apartment is most of the time. I won't tell you how much I detest cooking. I always say that I don't cook - I make food. With as few ingredients and steps as possible. I was also worried about the financial aspect. Since June, my money situation has been a mess. (Praying for a Someone who not only cooks but can balance a check book better than I can.) So I was worried about the cost of feeding 8 people. I even called my dad to be sure I would get enough food, because there is a big difference between cooking lots for yourself to ensure leftovers and cooking for so many (included 3 boys who could eat a house). But once I checked out and got the food home, I started to get excited. Excited enough to get my place fit for human visitation.

On Friday morning, I was ready. But that's when things started falling apart. Christine & Jamal just started a Bible study at the local Messianic synagogue. Katielee & Mike were expecting family. I was deflated. I even told Becky & Aaron that the didn't have to drive all the way from Temple Terrace just to come and see me. Becky assured me that they were coming. So after being unnecessarily upset that my evening (that I had already been unnecessarily anxious about) was not going according to plan, I put thoughts of the evening aside and focused on work.

But plans change. Katielee & Mike's family didn't come to town after all. So Katielee came over and helped me finish getting ready before picking Mike up from work. I made Chicken Alfredo - meaning a cooked some chicken, added sauce and a some grated Parmesan cheese. Simple. Easy. Quick. I was done before anyone showed up. But suddenly they were all there - Katielee, Becky and I in the kitchen chatting away while preparing a salad; the guys hanging together (all three fee from us) chatting about who knows what. You wouldn't have imagined that it was the first dinner at my place. It was like we'd done this a dozen time before.

I brought out the food and apologized for the simplicity. You would have thought I hired a Top Chef. They loved it. Everyone had seconds. I think Becky went back for thirds and maybe fourths. You wouldn't have guessed that the sauce was from a discount store or that the pasta was gluten free. It was not unlike the time I made brownie and had to substitute apple sauce for the egg. Jamal still talks about those brownies.

You should have seen us in my tiny living room. Two crammed into the papasan chair from a thrift store. Two more shifting uncomfortably on my hand-me-down daybed masquerading as a couch (that sat in pieces for almost a year before my uncle found the screws). And me, sitting on the floor. We played a old-school game that my high school friends loved. Compatibility still makes me laugh and has a few surprises.

It was the best night. So simple and so rich. I loved having my friends over. I loved cooking for them (when I just hate making food for myself). I can't wait to have them over again. I hate being domestic - cooking, cleaning, keeping things tidy. But for these lovely people, I'll do it with a smile...and maybe even a song.