In the interest of blatant self promotion, I had the idea to have an Oscar party. J., my partner in this crime called Joie de Vivre had the idea to invite a bunch of people who might know people who might want to use our services. We invited some of those folks, plus all the folks in Nashville that we love and had ourselves a grand ol’ time.
In the interest of killing two birds with one stone, I used some things I needed to make for homework for my Garde Manger buffet for the party. We stuck to mostly finger foods with a few exceptions and liberally, more liberally than we had intended I might add, poured champagne. The menu consisted of smoked salmon and accompaniments (which J.’s husband did in their stovetop smoker); a pork and turkey, juniper berry pate; a roasted vegetable terrine; zucchini rolls with goat cheese; white asparagus wrapped in prosciutto; marinated olives; glazed nuts; parmesan popcorn; a cheese board with piave, manchego and drunken goat; chocolate covered strawberries and an almond-amaretto tart.
It does appear that a good time was had by all. Despite my misgivings on the serving of the maiden voyage pates and terrines, they turned out beautifully. I was very proud. I was also nervous as hell and recovering from the flu, but J and J hooked me up with some generic Tussin and a glass of champagne to settle the nerves. In the event that you have to perform on command and you are on the tail end of an illness, I can speak fondly of the Tussin/champagne cure.
On a totally non-food related note, I am off to see the demi-god himself in concert this evening. My sister, her best bud from college, and I have front row balcony tickets to see Van Morrison at the Ryman Auditorium. I am about to pee myself with excitement.