At my apartment this weekend, it was the war of the deli sandwiches. In the words of the always oh-so-confident but sometimes designed-challenged Christian from PR, the battle was “fierce.” Way fierce.
This weekend, we had a family baby naming ceremony for my 1 year-old Summer. I think, according to Jewish tradition, you are actually supposed to knock out this baby naming thing in the first month or so but we’ve been busy battling mice and boobie addiction around here. So finally, it was Hebrew time for Summer time. Girlfriend got her third name of her young life, Sara Yona, in honor of her great grandparents. A rabbi performed a simple, lovely ceremony and then came the nosh.
Rewind one week. Rick and I have slightly different visions for the food at this family shindig.
The right way My vision: Gourmet sandwiches (grilled chicken with basil, smoked turkey, mozzarella and tomato) on whole grains from Whole Foods, served with a lightly dressed, fresh green salad. Spring water, Pellegrino and white wine. The wrong way Rick’s vision: Brisket, pastrami and corned beef sandwiches on rye from Katz’s Delicatessen. Also, coleslaw, potato salad and mountains of chopped liver. And soda. What?! Get. out. of. here. Yup. Cans and cans of cherry and cream soda.
Like every other married couple, we discuss our different visions until we are able to come up with a perfectly crafted compromise. As always, we are both content and satisfied with the solution. Oh, PLEASE. To hell with that. We make it a competition. Game on brother. Game on. We order EVERYTHING. Well, everything except the soda. We left that off the list so as not to encourage soda drinking amongst the kiddos in attendance.
Let’s just say I knew I was in trouble, as soon as one of my relatives said, “Can I grab a diet coke?”
Me: Oh, sorry, we aren’t serving any soda.
Pop lovin’ relative: But there’s a diet coke sitting on the counter. (She’s now looking at one can of soda amongst rows and rows of beautiful bottles of fresh spring water and bubbly San Pellegrino).
Me: Yah, that diet coke is my mom’s. She smuggled it in. Sorry. (I can see the disappointment in her desperate-for-caffeine eyes but she cheerily heads towards the other beverages. What a sport. I consider running to the market to buy soda but uncharacteristically let it go).
It only gets worse for me. Our guests descend like hungry wolverines upon the overstuffed Kosher meat sandwiches, pickles and chopped liver and merely pick at the lovely, gourmet alternatives. It really was pitiful. This Christian gal admits defeat.
And I picked up a few other tidbits on Saturday.
Despite the possibility of live or dead mice attending a festivity, if you offer lunch, drinks and cake, your family will show up. We hid the mouse traps for the afternoon. I mean, I know how to do the fancy hostess thing.
Even with a tuchus-load of shiksa motivation, it’s hard to eat 15 leftover gourmet turkey sandwiches on your own before they turn.
And when planning any party, you can’t beat good Jewish deli. Amen, sista.
mama bird notes
Megan A. is the winner of the mama bird giveaway package. Go Miss Meg. But please, the rest of you, don’t be sad. I’ll have another giveaway in three shakes of a mama poochy belly. We’ve gotta do something to perk up the gloomy month of January.
Thank you to the super cool companies who contributed such fab stuff:
Don’t forget to take our sinful mama survey. We want to know how you keep the magic happening in the bedroom. Don’t you just love an anonymous survey?!
And take a peak at “drooling over this” for a company that has me green and happy.