We've decided to take advantage of the three-day weekend afforded by our Sultanate's celebration of
coup d'état Renaissance Day and have an
intime little gathering at the Villa Muscato.
Something informal, you know - just some pals, a bottle or two, and a little something to nibble on. I made my trademark crab dip (culled from a cookbook, I shit you not, of recipes from friends of Mamie Eisenhower), Mr. Muscato may be talked into one of his Egyptian delicacies, and Ermilia has a surprise or two up her sleeve. In reference to the above, I hate to admit it, but I must: Marion
has looked lovelier.
The key to making a successful small party, I think, is culling the guest list. The last thing you want is guests like this one - bitch makes it 'round the room twice, gulps down four Manhattans, says something annoying to everybody, and never even takes off her coat! At least she doesn't linger.
Unlike Hedda here - now
that's how to behave at a cocktail party! Have fun, wear pearls, and keep your eye on the cameraman.
So it's going to be one of those days, Mrs. Dalloway never far from one's thoughts, and then that horrible twenty minutes when you know, you just
know, that no one is going to come and everything will be awful, and nobody loves you. And then the doorbell rings, and off we go...
We've decided to take advantage of the three-day weekend afforded by our Sultanate's celebration of 
Something informal, you know - just some pals, a bottle or two, and a little something to nibble on. I made my trademark crab dip (culled from a cookbook, I shit you not, of recipes from friends of Mamie Eisenhower), Mr. Muscato may be talked into one of his Egyptian delicacies, and Ermilia has a surprise or two up her sleeve. In reference to the above, I hate to admit it, but I must: Marion has looked lovelier.
The key to making a successful small party, I think, is culling the guest list. The last thing you want is guests like this one - bitch makes it 'round the room twice, gulps down four Manhattans, says something annoying to everybody, and never even takes off her coat! At least she doesn't linger.
Unlike Hedda here - now that's how to behave at a cocktail party! Have fun, wear pearls, and keep your eye on the cameraman.
So it's going to be one of those days, Mrs. Dalloway never far from one's thoughts, and then that horrible twenty minutes when you know, you just know, that no one is going to come and everything will be awful, and nobody loves you. And then the doorbell rings, and off we go...
Muscato said: and then that horrible twenty minutes when you know, you just know, that no one is going to come and everything will be awful, and nobody loves you
ReplyDeleteI always it was just me that did that before parties. So glad I am not alone in my neuroses.
I'm rifling through the pockets of the coats piled on the bed while you're busy entertaining.
ReplyDeleteWhat are your secret tips for keeping ice in your champagne buckets in such a climate?
ReplyDelete