I’ve been reminiscing about my first bread machine, about how I wanted to be the Croissant Queen of South Austin and how I loved making peanut butter bread for the office pot luck events. I loved making bread in the bread machine and put it to good use until it just fell apart.
I often took my bread machine to the office, as I mentioned. For most food events, however, I just took a loaf of bread. I once went to a dinner party hosted by a friend’s mother. It really was a birthday celebration for my friend, and it was less of a party and more of a dinner. My friend said that I didn’t have to bring anything, no present, no food. Our spending time together was the gift and my friend’s mother was quite the cook, so she was taking care of everything.
Aha! I thought. I bet she doesn’t have a bread machine. I’ll just bake some bread and take it with me. I was so happy to be able to take a worthwhile contribution. Everyone on TV took always took a bottle of wine as a hostess gift, but I didn’t know anything about wine, so that was out. But hey, I was the almost-Croissant Queen of South Austin and I could take a loaf of bread, no problem.
Problem. The problem was that the hostess, my friend’s mother, was a way above average cook. She had a matching set of china and silverware for twelve. She had a table large enough to seat twelve. She had a kitchen where she cooked for twelve (or more) without a problem. So when she said “You don’t need to bring anything,” she really meant it.
Some of us don’t take direction very well, do
She was a gracious hostess and took my machine-made loaf of bread. It was quite the tableau: French baguettes beside my little, square slices of scrunched up bread on her fine china.
I chose the baguettes and learned to pay attention to invitation details.