Mentally I started to prepare on Monday, planning my menu, visualising how many tables and chairs I would need.
- fresh baked herb focaccia
- roasted cherry tomato soup
- Gratin dauphinoise with smoked salmon and double cream (without smoked salmon for vegetarians)
- Celeriac and carrot remoulade
- Green oak leaf salad with a Dijon mustard dressing
- Mousse au chocolat
- with candied orange slices.
“she put cardamom in everything” grimaced Zoe.
“What a fantastic job!” I said enviously.
“Well it can be difficult thinking up new ways to describe the same old dishes” she replied.
This was such a successful combination for raw chocolates. For chocolate mousses it was awful. Had to chuck the lot.
“I can’t do it. IT’S ALL GOING WRONG. WHY AM I DOING THIS?’ I start to hyper-ventilate.
“YOU ARE DOING THAT WRONG” I shout. She looks at me, clearly biting her tongue.
“Mad woman” she hisses.
I nod at sister-woman and say “Make me a margarita cocktail.”
I start to make the dough for my focaccia. I figure I’ll make some beforehand to ferment it a little. Then add the fermented dough into the rest of the mixture later.
The chocolate mousses are set. I send my teenager out to buy some more chocolate as we have two last minute guests and I don’t have enough chocolate mousses.
I shout at her “How can you be my child and not buy the right chocolate!?”.
She mutters “I wish I’d never come home”.