i had forgotten all about dinner parties, about mismatched silverware and plates, bowls of warm food and glasses of cold beer, laughter and stories rising up to the dimly light ceiling. i had forgotten how much fun it can be, but tonight, i was reminded when a friend asked us over for dinner for pakistani home cooking. she made chicken, potatoes, okra, lentils and bread. it was all so good.
the company, of course, made it even better. it had been months since we’d all been together, but we got along like no time had passed at all. i kept looking around the room, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time because i hadn’t realized how much i missed them. fiona’s black spikes and stand-up comic antics, roger’s lanky arms and poker face, tania’s high-pitched shrieks and hot pink streaks, miha’s new york sass and tipsy giggles, jesse’s silent, smiling eyes.
when i lived in portland, dinner parties were my favorite thing, aside from brunch. my friends and i took turns cooking our favorite meals, sharing family recipes and rambly tales. the night would inevitably end on somebody’s floor or porch, heads on shoulders, sleepy smiles and full bellies. it was always more about the people than the food.
i had forgotten all about that. i had forgotten that you don’t have to always leave the house for a good time. the good time can come to you.
this summer, i will re-initiate drinks in the patio and reading on the front porch. i will test, once and for all, my ability to cook all those filipino dishes i watched mom make while growing up. i will invite you all over for another housewarming party.
but this time, it won’t be a party to celebrate my moving in. we’ll be celebrating good friends and home cooking and the fact that i found a place to stay for more than a year.