Wow - I cannot believe it. Hopefully you are sitting down, because I am about to drop a bomb. Right now, as I sit here typing this article, I am actually on time for something. For the first time in my life, I am well prepared, with minutes to spare. This is no joke - I was always rushed to make class on time, almost missed last years' flight to Australia, and was even late to my own wedding (although that wasn't my fault).
Ashley and I were supposed to host my family's Christmas on Tuesday, Dec. 28 - a procrastinator's dream. Everything was set: my sister and her boyfriend were flying home from New York; I had a relief milker all lined up, and a superb menu in mind. What could possibly go wrong?
In classic National Lampoon style, New York City got dumped with nearly 2 feet of snow. Fortunately, there were no delays, but unfortunately, all flights were canceled.
Patience, perseverance, and determination paid off; she got a flight to Chicago a day later, on Tuesday. Her boyfriend Chris would fly to Milwaukee on Thursday. Thus, Christmas got bumped back to Thursday, Dec. 30. As I write this, Chris's flight just landed, Sarah is picking him up from the airport, and they will be homebound within minutes. Thus, I have an entire two hours to myself, to await their arrival. For the first time in my life, I am ready and waiting.
Times like these make me think about my grandmother, and how she could host a holiday meal, replete with extended family and screaming children, absolutely flawlessly. Although Ashley and I both love to host, with the exception of today, it always seemed like I was running behind.
I suppose being a good host is an acquired art, which is why I would like to reference an event my grandmother held. Not only is this occurrence my favorite memory of my grandmother, but it has also served as a lesson to me, even now. As I have tended to scramble about, nervously looking toward the front door, hoping my guests were even later than I, perhaps someday I can be as organized as my grandma.
Twelve years ago, I knocked on grandma's door. I was 17, in high school, and Homecoming was just over a week away. I had a date, an outfit, even a new car. Heck, I even had a friend and his date to join me. Only, we were both incredibly strapped for cash, and didn't feel like shelling out significant dough for a fancy meal. After all, this was "only" Homecoming.
Then, I had a brilliant idea: why not ask my Grandma to cook for us? She was of the older, Swiss generation, and could prepare world-class meals, far superior to any restaurant fare.
She pondered my proposition, and humbly wondered what she could possibly make that would be worth this special occasion? I had to suppress my laughter, but I do remember telling her, that her food was way better than any restaurant.
Now, get a load of this:
Homecoming night I arrived at Grandma's house with my date, as did my buddy. Expecting us, she opened the front door. Very sophisticatedly she remarked, "The gentlemen shall now remove the ladies' coats." We proceeded to the dining room. This memory still makes me smile: her dining table, capable of hosting extended family, had been reduced to four elegant settings. The best China, the most graceful cutlery, and wine glasses sat atop her finest linen. A single candle burned in the middle. She remarked, "It is now appropriate for the gentlemen to seat the ladies."
For dinner that night, she served Swiss steak with grilled carrots and sweet corn from her garden. At my request, we had mashed potatoes and gravy, the likes of which I have not had since Grandma passed away. Our wine glasses were filled with non-alcoholic sparkling cider, and dessert came in the form of banana-crème pie. While we ate, she sat in the next room, quietly watching television. Should we require anything we were to ring the bell, placed delicately next to the candle.
The experienceis now a memory you hold on to, only to cherish more and more as time goes on. In fact, as I sit here awaiting my family's arrival, I cannot help but crack a smile as I think about Grandma, and her abundant class. The ability to take a simple meal, and turn it into a cherished memory for the whole family, or just a high school kid out on his first date, is truly priceless.
Well, they should be here any minute, and for once I am actually on time. Oh, and to answer your question, yes, we did leave a tip for my grandma.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a weekly column for the Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Ashley and I were supposed to host my family's Christmas on Tuesday, Dec. 28 - a procrastinator's dream. Everything was set: my sister and her boyfriend were flying home from New York; I had a relief milker all lined up, and a superb menu in mind. What could possibly go wrong?
In classic National Lampoon style, New York City got dumped with nearly 2 feet of snow. Fortunately, there were no delays, but unfortunately, all flights were canceled.
Patience, perseverance, and determination paid off; she got a flight to Chicago a day later, on Tuesday. Her boyfriend Chris would fly to Milwaukee on Thursday. Thus, Christmas got bumped back to Thursday, Dec. 30. As I write this, Chris's flight just landed, Sarah is picking him up from the airport, and they will be homebound within minutes. Thus, I have an entire two hours to myself, to await their arrival. For the first time in my life, I am ready and waiting.
Times like these make me think about my grandmother, and how she could host a holiday meal, replete with extended family and screaming children, absolutely flawlessly. Although Ashley and I both love to host, with the exception of today, it always seemed like I was running behind.
I suppose being a good host is an acquired art, which is why I would like to reference an event my grandmother held. Not only is this occurrence my favorite memory of my grandmother, but it has also served as a lesson to me, even now. As I have tended to scramble about, nervously looking toward the front door, hoping my guests were even later than I, perhaps someday I can be as organized as my grandma.
Twelve years ago, I knocked on grandma's door. I was 17, in high school, and Homecoming was just over a week away. I had a date, an outfit, even a new car. Heck, I even had a friend and his date to join me. Only, we were both incredibly strapped for cash, and didn't feel like shelling out significant dough for a fancy meal. After all, this was "only" Homecoming.
Then, I had a brilliant idea: why not ask my Grandma to cook for us? She was of the older, Swiss generation, and could prepare world-class meals, far superior to any restaurant fare.
She pondered my proposition, and humbly wondered what she could possibly make that would be worth this special occasion? I had to suppress my laughter, but I do remember telling her, that her food was way better than any restaurant.
Now, get a load of this:
Homecoming night I arrived at Grandma's house with my date, as did my buddy. Expecting us, she opened the front door. Very sophisticatedly she remarked, "The gentlemen shall now remove the ladies' coats." We proceeded to the dining room. This memory still makes me smile: her dining table, capable of hosting extended family, had been reduced to four elegant settings. The best China, the most graceful cutlery, and wine glasses sat atop her finest linen. A single candle burned in the middle. She remarked, "It is now appropriate for the gentlemen to seat the ladies."
For dinner that night, she served Swiss steak with grilled carrots and sweet corn from her garden. At my request, we had mashed potatoes and gravy, the likes of which I have not had since Grandma passed away. Our wine glasses were filled with non-alcoholic sparkling cider, and dessert came in the form of banana-crème pie. While we ate, she sat in the next room, quietly watching television. Should we require anything we were to ring the bell, placed delicately next to the candle.
The experienceis now a memory you hold on to, only to cherish more and more as time goes on. In fact, as I sit here awaiting my family's arrival, I cannot help but crack a smile as I think about Grandma, and her abundant class. The ability to take a simple meal, and turn it into a cherished memory for the whole family, or just a high school kid out on his first date, is truly priceless.
Well, they should be here any minute, and for once I am actually on time. Oh, and to answer your question, yes, we did leave a tip for my grandma.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a weekly column for the Times. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
