Well.
It's all set.
The location of my company's holiday party has been announced and I can finally tell you about it.
(I realize you've been waiting, breathlessly, to read this.)
After visiting and enquiring at:
1. The private club at which my boss is a member.
2. The very fine restaurant he enjoys several times a month.
3. Five or six local restaurants/hotels.
4. A very sexy 5000 square foot loft space.
5. The commercial catering kitchen of the restaurateur who owns the restaurant at which my boss dines several times a month....
We (and by "we" I mean myself, my pal at work, KT, and my boss) chose....THE COMMERCIAL KITCHEN OWNED BY THE FAMOUS RESTAURANTEUR.
I know what you're thinking...you're thinking what? and, believe me, I thought that too - AT FIRST.
KT and I had seen/talked about/discussed so many venues. As it turned out, I went alone one day to see number four and number five. I very nearly dismissed number five and, in fact, went back to my boss and said: it really just IS a kitchen. But then I went with The Boss and KT to see this kitchen and we had time to think and talk and we realized that it would be an amazing place to have a cocktail party.
And so, we are!
This is from a local magazine...
You ever notice how at most parties, guests always gravitate toward the kitchen? USHG’s first annual Kitchen Party helped revelers cut to the chase by transforming the massive production facility of a catering company into an event space. I headed to the eighth floor of the warehouse. Inside, the kitchen’s fluorescent lighting had been replaced by mood lighting, orchids decorated the walls, and guests chose among absinthe, wine and suds. All the while, the kitchen was running full throttle: chefs forked over free-form durum wheat pasta in a creamy mushroom sauce, pork saltimbocca and a polentina soup (chicken broth, polenta, vegetables) A pit master presented a smoked pig along with beef and pork ribs; and the executive chef oversaw the remainder of the edibles, including foie gras with kumquats, and massive cubes of tuna cru topped with caperberry slices.
It's nearly all arranged and I've had a great time doing it.
KT and I have giggled over menu choices and had a wonderful time contemplating "signature cocktails."
There are just a few small details (the packaging of the takeaway chocolate)(the guest list) left to arrange - and then we will be free to celebrate.
Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to have me take pictures.
The Holiday Party
it's beginning to look a lot like...
My email box has been jammed lately with all sorts of pretties for Christmas (I can't bear to refer to the season as The Holidays, so I'll be saying Christmas from now on, fyi) I'm thinking of highlighting things I like when I have a moment....AND, today, I'd like to show you eight things I DON'T WANT.
In no particular order - (and, yes, these items were featured in a holiday gift catalogue)
A Snuggie! A Slanket! A backwards robe for my dog! No, thanks.
I can't look at this without cracking up. I don't see how this is a gift for anyone and can't imagine it's comfortable in any way. And WHY is it called Kymaro?
Don't spend too much time thinking about it - there's a slew of bad gifts for us to ponder...
An automatic liquid soap dispenser is a great gift, right?
What about a Neckline Slimmer?
The picture is actually scarier than the title. Those springs are freaking me out a little.
Is it wrong of me to feel like a microwavable scarf is a creepy combination of not attractive/geriatric?
Are you like me?
Would you find this lawn ornament anxiety provoking?
Middle and I spent quite a while discussing the potential uses for this item:
It's not just for towels...
See?
Middle is asking Santa for one. He's going to warm his underwear in it.
But I've saved the best worst gift for last.
There's not a lot I can say.
Not. Saying. Anything.
It's a great gift. Thoughtful. Useful...with lots of creative possibilities -
right?
