The Alien in the Kitchen

Here is where I spent most of the weekend. Fortunately, cooking is the one household chore that I actually enjoy! The onslaught of cuisine was precipitated by the knowledge that the weekend was going to be full of company -- also something i enjoy.

Chapter One: Cooking for the Spanish Guests (Les Invites Espagnol -- I'm not sure how to type an accent, so those of you who know French are going to have to grit your teeth here).

Johanna invited her friend Giulia to spend the night on Saturday. Since Giulia's parents are responsible human beings, they thought they'd like to meet us before they let their daughter move in temporarily. So I invited Giulia's mom to stay for a bit and chat when she dropped Giulia off. She asked if she could bring the little sisters, and I said sure. Johanna and I decided that we'd better offer coffee or tea and bake something to go with it. So Johanna worked on a lemon cake mix. Meanwhile, Drew was pressed into service making brownies and Luc making fudge (both for youth group the following night -- see chapter three), while I worked on some taco meat (for the same occasion). The kitchen was full, all the pots and pans were in use, and we expanded our brains by translating the directions on the mix boxes (German, French, and Italian -- take your pick) and converting grams and mililiters to cups. We leaned some wonderful new vocab (e.g. demouler -- to take something out of the pan). Our conversions weren't perfect (it's hard to measure .441 cups when 100 grams is called for), but they must have been okay, because our baked goods turned out nicely. And when Giulia's entire family showed up to make sure we weren't crazy people, we were very glad we had the lemon cake ready.

Johanna and I were confirmed in our surmisal that coffee and cake was the right treat to serve when it turned out that Giulia's mother's family is in the vineyard business, and their vineyards produce a very nice wine that is trendy in New York City and other hip and cosmopolitan places. Imagine if we had served them our 4-CHF-a-bottle Aldi wine! Giulia's mom looked at our grapevine outside and pronounced it hopeless. Oh well. In a very interesting sidenote, Giulia's dad was an exchange student when he was in high school in Harbor Springs, Mich. -- right by where my family has vacationed for my whole life. We had a good chat about the Pellston Airport, Highway 31, and the Mackinaw Bridge.

The next morning, we introduced Giulia to Swedish pancakes with maple syrup (which, I know, isn't really Swedish). She liked them very much.

Chapter Two: Cooking for Our Fellow Ohioan

On Sunday afternoon, Andrew Brinkerhoff came over for lunch. I think most readers of this blog will recognize the name, but if not, he's an MHA grad, and his dad is still the academic dean there. Andrew has an intership at CERN, which is a nuclear physics lab located right over the French border. We actually didn't really know Andrew, having only met him a few times, but how could we pass up the chance to connect with a fellow Cincinnatian? Plus, we were hoping Andrew could help us understand the recent breakthrough experiment at CERN, which involved sending particles faster than the speed of light, apparently. (Andrew did explain it, although that does not mean we understand. Furthermore, he said that most of the scientists at CERN are pretty skeptical, although the experiment seems valid on its face.)

In celebration of America and Americans, we pulled out the barbeque sauce and had chicken and potatoes. (In celebration of European boulangeries, we had some great bread, and in celebration of our very own Swiss yard, we had apple crisp).

We were all very full, and Drew said, "Do I have to eat again?" The answer, of course, was yes, because it was time for . . .

Chapter Three: Cooking for the United Nations

Okay, not really. I really cooked for the church high school youth group, but church does sometimes feel like the United Nations. The pastor pointed out on Sunday morning that we are such a diverse church that we often cannot understand one another when we talk -- even if we are (as is occasionally the case) all speaking English.

Interestingly, finding people to cook for the Sunday night youth group seems to be difficult, because this is the second time I've done in in about a month. Since I really don't mind, and since I'm not doing much else to help out,  I think I should probably offer to do it on a regular basis. The only tricky thing is figuring out what to make for 20 teenagers. I did tacos (surprisingly, the bigger grocery stores around here all have corn chips, salsa, and Old El Paso seasoning packets), along with the desserts the boys had made the day before.

Apparently the United Nations likes Mexican (although that may be one of the few nationalities not represented in the group). They, however, do not like lettuce as much as advertised (I had been told some of the girls just like salad, so I sent along a big bag -- or maybe they not only just like salad, but they just like a teeny bit of salad). We now have a refrigerator full of salad melange.

Upcoming cooking adventures include:

The P&G Olay Brand Managers Come to Dinner, in which the Alien tries to impress people from Greece, Holland, and Germany with nothing but a chicken, a bottle of wine, and a tree full of apples (Opening Saturday, Oct. 15)

and

The Great Quince Jelly Bash (Thursday, Oct. 20), in which the Alien and her friends attempt to turn rock-hard, inedible, mealy green fruit into a beautiful rose-colored condiment. The good news is, most of the friends are from England, where quince jelly is not even strange.

As a reward for all the hours in the kitchen, the Alien plans to spend some serious time at the Onex Boulangerie/Patisserie, where she has recently discovered almond croissants. (How many croissants a week constitutes gluttony, do you think?)