Hospitality as Art

Hospitality as Art

As much as I loved my time with Esther, John Ben, Misha, and Vera, I came home starving for art and missing my friends. My hands itched to hold my bow and touch the strings of my cello. I longed to create something.

When I played my cello, after recovering from my feverish first day back, I was disappointed that the pages of my music book, which I had taken with me to Ohio, were still hard to play. I now had the right fingers, but it took more work to rediscover just how far my fingers needed to stretch from one note to the next. Within the week, to my joy, the page was easy. I can play notes up and down the neck on the G string up to middle C and the A string up to G, and I have a new feel for where the notes are. Mind work actually works!

While I was working that out, I looked at the calendar and realized that the Sunday after my return home was the first day of Lent. We were deep into pre-Lent and had already given up meat. Soon fish and dairy would go too, and I determined to have one last party before it went. I texted my friends from last year who joined in a Pride and Prejudice tea party. Since we watched the best version (A&E with Colin Firth) last year, I suggested the 2005 version with Keira Knightley. I saw it for the first time last year in the theatres for its 20^th anniversary.

Then I shared my vision with Sophia. Instead of the usual tea party setup with three-tiered serving stands, I wanted my guests and me to be served the multiple courses of fish and dairy delights slowly throughout the two-hour movie.

After Forgiveness Vespers, I stayed for an hour to help out in the church kitchen. Because our heroic kitchen people were in the hospital battling health issues, many people stepped up to help in their place, and we kept them in our prayers as we washed and dried. I left earlier than I wished to rush home and start cooking. I made two batches of scones, put the cucumbers through the food processor, and tucked the thin slices in layers between paper towels. Sophia made up the cucumber sandwich cream cheese mixture. I had made a batch of baklava over at Dorothy’s house, and Sophia had made her own desserts with her mad pastry chef skills. I cooked up spanakopita filling and Sophia filled cupcake pans with puff pastry for both my mini spinach and feta pies and a baked caprese appetizer with mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil.

Many people had Cheesefare Sunday plans with their families, and sickness cheated me out of other friends’ participation, but we had five ladies: Kelly, Kaylene, Connie, Sam, and me. Xenia’s friend Cassie came over too to join Xenia as Sophia’s helper staff. She showed up in a cute dress and apron outfit perfect for the occasion. Can I still call it a tea party if we don’t drink tea? It was unseasonably warm, so I had Topo Chico as my drink of choice. Others chose Peligrino, plain water, and coffee. We dressed our own scones with the right amount of butter and lemon curd and sat down with plates and drinks and started the show.

Ten minutes into the movie, Sophia came by with a gold colored serving tray piled high with cucumber sandwiches. Layered cheesecake dessert cups came around next, followed by the caprese and spinach pies, which all came before Mr. Darcy proposed. Sam had never seen or read Pride & Prejudice, and her gasps and surprised outbursts made the movie for me. Next came crab snacker crackers, cream cheese, and fake crab legs topped with cocktail sauce on Ritz crackers, and other crackers topped with smoked salmon or the soft cheese balls that Connie brought. Right before the second proposal, we ate mini peach pies, and we celebrated the happy ending with baklava and chocolate cake pops.

Everything was just as I had dreamed. Afterwards, as the ladies helped me clean up, we chatted about how much fun we all had. Kelly told me later that she and the other ladies have talked about it afterwards with fondness. My cousin Ari recently told me that my hospitality is an artistic expression. Now as I think back on the event, the tea party appears as a work of art in the design, the labor leading up to it, and the execution of the performance.

In fact, now that I think on it, every family dinner has an air of a theatrical performance. The cooking, which is sometimes an art in of itself, and the setting of the table is like the theatrical set of a play. That’s in part why I love a well-set table with all the silverware in its proper place. Just like the energy of putting together a performance with all the players trying to pull it together, we often have one cast member off with his friends or another at her extracurricular activities. We count the people and recount the plates. The food is ready, and we call everyone together like the lights flashing outside the auditorium. We pray. We eat. We talk. Then it’s over, and we clean up. Another meal is complete. Another memory made. Even if one dinner blends into another and even if we don’t eat dinner together every night, looking back, we will remember that once upon a time we all ate together.

My next big party will be the best ever. I’m already dreaming of it, though it’s not scheduled till summer. I plan on bringing together all my amateur musician friends for a chance to perform, and friends who want to sing are invited to help us along. We will dress up as pirates and sing sea shanties. Cannonballs will be the theme for the food with a potluck meatball cook-off. My family thinks that I’m going overboard with music books and music binders, my growing collection of instruments, and the new purple pirate party dress, which arrived last week, but every detail feeds my dreams and goes into making my imaginations a reality. It gives me motivation to play music, fills all thoughts of the future with a happy event to look forward to, and wards off melancholy.

Mike and I have been hosting get-togethers since we were married nearly twenty-nine years ago. Back in the day it was pizza and Dungeons & Dragons that filled our Friday nights. Then it was board games with snacks. These days we love our big Sunday dinners. When I’ve downsized to a small apartment or a room in someone’s house, I hope that I’ll still have friends over, and in heaven, think what celebrations there will be. How ever one does it, bringing people together for fellowship and fun is beautiful.