Last night, I went to a dinner party where the hostess and several of her friends were vegan.
The initial plan had been a “takeout & tea” theme, and then I was told it was “flowers & cupcakes,” so I made a white bean salad to bring just in case she was serious. As I was heading out the door, I also grabbed a bottle of pinot noir a friend’s dad gave us as a housewarming gift. Perhaps the best red wine I’ve tasted.
I was happily surprised when I got there—the plan had morphed yet again into a mutli-colored tomato-and-pepper sauce/tofu/polenta spread. There were also a dozen or so of the hugest, most beautiful portobello caps I have ever seen. Another girl brought the makings for toasted bread with brie and raspberries (not vegan, but some things, as I learned, are worth making allowances for). The flowers were edible, and someone else had brought vegan cake. And champagne.
So I put on a frilly lace apron (the Women’s Studies Minor side of my brain was amused, if a bit terrified) and helped man the kitchen. It ended up being a great night, and a lovely meal. Proof that you can make a feast in a studio kitchen, albeit which much choreography. I definitely need to try making polenta at home soon.
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