When the guests arrived everything was in its place. Candles lite, music turn down low, wine opened, lipstick applied, the table set. Mingle mingle, drinky drinky and the party flowed.
After the aperitif everyone took their place around the table. (Boy-girl-boy-girl is how they arrange themselves around the table in France. You never sit by your spouse or the person you came with.) Yann poured the wine while the conversation flowed. Everyone had the look of happy expectation in their eyes. I excused myself from the dinner scene to go get the main dish hot from the oven.
How many times have I taken something out of the oven? How many times have I dropped a ceramic hot dish? How well did I compress my mouthful of bad words? Does tomato sauce stain silk?
"Are you okay, is everything alright?" I heard as the dining room grew silent. "Sure no problem everything is under control!" Yeah right I thought to myself as my mind race forward...When was the last time I mopped? Can this dinner be saved?
Photo: Empty French 19th century directoire dishes.