Two and a half years ago I had already complained about how I had spent the best holiday of the year, The Christmas. I decided to invite my in-laws, my husband’s sisters and brothers, and our parents. It was December 24.
The table had to be special. I decided to forgo the classic dishes: crab salad, turkey, pilaf and manta, and hot drinks. I found on the Internet original recipes for exotic fruit salads, and for the main course I wanted to grill chicken.
Particular attention was paid to serving. I bought a new tablecloth, crockery for everyone, and cutlery. I thought that I would create a unique atmosphere and surprise everyone with my originality.
How did it end? Our mothers came over and said: “No, they don’t feed that to men”, and sent my husband and his brother to the store for potatoes and mayonnaise. We quickly chopped our “classics” in bowls and pots, and then ran to the supermarket for the second time. We needed cake for dessert. How could we do without cake? It was a holiday! My dishes were rejected, so they took out the deep salad bowls.
“You can eat your avocado and mango later, without us”.
I cried, locked in my room from the fact that the people closest to me stomped on my idea. The funny thing is that our dads, having had enough to eat, started asking if there was anything in the house for their stomach. Both funny and sad!
In the morning, everyone over 50 had high blood pressure. Everyone was frantically drinking aspirin and mineral water.
I have forbidden calling guests to my house, since guests come to another’s monastery with their own charter. Is it really so hard to taste what the hostess served, and at home to eat everything the soul demands? Where does such a strong addiction to habit come from?
And then, just this summer, I made the same mistake again. My close colleagues decided that I had to set the table to celebrate an unexpected promotion, that everyone wanted to sit at home, not in a cafe.
“You don’t have to spend money”, they said. Just order a pizza and get a Coke. That should be enough. The main thing is to get together, to meet…
I took these words literally. And remembering the failed Christmas Eve meal, I bought a light yogurt cake for tea at the store.
And once again, I was disappointed.
Perhaps I’m doing a bad thing by spilling these details out into the public eye. But someone will recognize themselves, blush, and never do that again. So, what I didn’t like:
First of all, the guests criticized the food on the table. Pizza, of course, can be full, but I would like something serious. “If you’d called us in the morning, we’d have made something quick”, said the girl colleagues. They were clearly expecting something more. The guests also rejected the cake. They remembered a certain Rita, who makes “Napoleon”, which melts in your mouth. Rita is good, and I cheated.
Secondly, for some reason my colleagues decided to discuss their working relationship at my table. They started fighting and arguing about their problems. I don’t mind everyone having an opinion. But it was MY night, we were celebrating MY promotion, not anyone else’s.
And the third thing that just pissed me off was that my guests started walking around the rooms and looking in the fridge, asking: “Is there anything else yummy?”.
Then I thought: “I’ve had enough”. This would be the last time I would invite colleagues from work to my home.
I want to conclude my thoughts with a famous quote by Ernest Hemingway. It is about the fact that man always wants more, that he is insatiable. My guests wanted more food, and I wanted more respect for myself. But everyone got exactly what they could give.
“Give a person the necessities and he will want comforts. Provide him with comforts and he will crave luxury. Sprinkle him with luxury and he will sigh for the exquisite. Let him have the finer things and he will crave madness. Give him everything he wants and he will complain that he was cheated and that he didn’t get what he wanted”.