Category Archives: Party! Party!
Sunday night with the vicar, or how to cope with teatotaling guests
Not even a small sherry?
Now I know what you’re thinking, but I do not have a problem. Not since I met Dr. Feelgood Feldman anyway. In point of fact, I do entertain the occasional dry guest, someone who for religious, personal or legal reasons has chosen the path of abstemious virtue, God love ’em all. I respect that, though I cannot fathom it, since it would require me to eliminate caffeine (what goes up…) and leave me with no excuse for sleeping later than 7 am (OK, 9), and since I’m rapidly running out of vices, I feel the need to hold on to the few that remain. What’s more, a considerable chunk of my family history revolves around excessive consumption of light beer, box wine and bootleg gin, so drinking, for me, carries strong sentimental associations. Besides, it’s the only thing that makes my family interesting or my in-laws bearable.
So anyways, here it is, my list of un-potent potables, all of which taste much better when you, the host, down at least two dry martinis before your guests arrive.
Nuts and bolts, or Chex Party Mix done right
"This Chex Mix is makin' me THIRSTY."
Every family has its Christmas traditions – Rice Crispy treats with red and green sprinkles, Aunt Edna’s fruitcake, sugar cookies shaped like Santa, hot whiskey to take the edge off Christmas morning, festive drives up to Sing Sing to smuggle bring Uncle Mike some holiday cheer, what have you. In my family, Christmas just ain’t Christmas without Grandma Pierce’s nuts and bolts, a riff on Chex Party Mix that takes cocktail snacks to a whole other level.
I have served this at every holiday party I have ever thrown and, let me tell you, it is a proven winner, a real crowd pleaser. Why? It’s crunchy, salty and spicy, which guarantees your party guests will stay good and thirsty and that, my friends, is the key to party success.
Oh holy crap, here it comes again.
How ’bout a little Hot Tub Christmas?
Having reached the age of consent, do we love the holiday season in the same way we did as kids? I think it is fair to say that no, no we do not. Among my nearest and dearest, there are some notable exceptions – adults who throw themselves into the holidays with reckless abandon, festooning entire houses (indoors AND out), shopping till all hours, sending hundreds of festive holiday cards, baking, cooking and generally making merry until they crumble into an exhausted, disoriented heap on December 24th, sucking their thumbs, weeping openly and calling for the gin bottle. God bless ‘em.
I’m just wondering: Have you noticed that the holidays seem to start up again about fifteen minutes after you get the decorations down and the taxes paid? How is that possible? Why don’t we just leave the lights up all year and start Christmas shopping for 2012 NOW?
I’m not going to say I hate Christmas, because then I would be on record as hating every single holiday of the year, and that’s not much fun. I will say that each year I find it a little tougher to get my groove on come December, but groove we must, if only for the sake of the children. One way I’ve found to get things going is to knock back a little high-octane eggnog, dust off my Christmas playlist and rock around the Christmas tree a time or two. Generally this is enough to get me to the trough, so the speak, and from there the drinking’s the easy part.
So ladle up some punch and let’s do this thing.
Christmas Party Mix
- Santa Claus is Back in Town, Elvis — I always kick things off with this one. Honky tonk heaven.
- The Chanukah Song, Adam Sandler — We’re ecumenical.
- Baby, It’s Cold Outside, Dean Martin — Gives me a nicotine fit just listening to it.
- Santa Baby, Eartha Kitt — Catwoman sings Christmas or no one does.
- Baby Please Come Home, U2 — I love Bono even more when he begs.
- Baby Please Come Home, Darlene Love — The song so nice we play it twice.
- Blue Christmas, Elvis — A bit of a downer, but you’ve got to do it.
- The Chipmunk Song, Alvin and the boys — Oh yes, I do.
- You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch, Thurl Ravens — Sing along. I dare you.
- I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, Johnny John Cougar Mellencamp – what the hell is that guy’s name anyway?
- Little Drummer Boy, Bowie and Bing — Kind of a drag, but it seriously redefines the notion of getting your freak on, no?
- Feliz Navidad, Jose Feliciano — You know you love it.
- Father Christmas, The Kinks — A little subversion with your Christmas pudding? Yes, please!
- Run Rudolph Run, Chuck Berry — I defy you not to be dancing by the second bar.
- Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight), The Ramones — Just because you can, it doesn’t mean you should, but that’s what the holidays are all about, n’est-ce pas?
- What Christmas Means to Me, Stevie Wonder — What’s a party without Stevie? A trip to your inlaws’. That’s what.
- Jingle Bell Rock, Bobby Helms — A must.
- Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town and Merry Christmas Baby, Bruce Springsteen — For those of us who remember when he was the only guy on the radio who actually played an instrument, he gets two.
- Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, Brenda Lee — Because my mom says so.
What have I left out? Suggestions welcome, but please bear in mind I have a firm NO BEACH BOYS policy, so don’t even bother with that shite.
Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé! Well almost.
courtesy Alliance Française of Portland
Well BFD. You know I’m no wine snob. Not even close. In fact, I’m entirely willing to admit I don’t know enough or have an adequately sophisticated palate to get uppity about my wine preferences. In truth, there’s very little I won’t drink, but in recent years I have drawn a line in the sand when it comes to Beaujolais Nouveau, that’s right a line in the sand, my friends. I’m like the Colonel Qaddafi of immature wine. Why, you ask. Why? The labels are so festive and there’s a big PR push every November. Well, I’ll tell you.
For me, Beaujolais Nouveau is the wine equivalent of Coors Light. I mean really, why would you want Coors to be any lighter than it already is? That’s like saying you want light water. In my opinion, the new Beaujolais tastes like a dumbed-down merlot – and what’s the appeal of that? You could just throw some vodka into a glass of Welch’s grape juice for the same effect.
Note the new screw top!
So what’s all the ruckus about every year? No idea. I suppose it might be that it’s an easy way for a bunch of French wine makers to squeeze $10-$12 bucks a bottle out of you on a quick turnaround. I do know the new Beau doesn’t taste like much, and I can think of plenty of wines at that price that don’t make me feel like sucking my thumb when I drink them.
Still interested? Well it’s your liver not mine – mine’s already quite limber. If you want to know more, here’s a good primer on all the wines from Beaujolais.
Go ahead and drink up, pilgrim. But if it’s new, do give it a little chill before you pour it.
Happy Birthday!
Today is the birthday of my younger (though not by much) sister, who provides frequent, hysteria-inducing inspiration for my musings and runs a tighter ship that I could ever dream of. Party on, girlfriend. Enjoy your 29th!
Kitchen Slattern 