Monday, December 7, 2009

Tablecloth Dinner

On Saturday night my friend Dawnie texted me: "What are you guys up to tonight?" I replied, "Having a tablecloth dinner." "What's a tablecloth dinner?"

A tablecloth dinner, my friends, is a dinner in which instead of plopping ourselves down on couches in the living room, as usual, we actually set the table and enjoy the feast like proper civilized people.

And on Saturday night? Out the tablecloth came.

If it looks like an old-lady tablecloth that's because it is: Bill's Grandma made it. Or, more acurately, embroidered it. I shanghaied it off of Mumsie last year. What? Grandma was her mother-in-law; Billy's a blood relative.

Saturday was a miserable day around these parts. Cold and raining and snowing and raw and bitter and downright wretched. I made it as far as the front porch that day. And I'm still peeved about that: I should have sent Schleckah out to get the mail.

It was the perfect night, however, for my world-famous linguine and clam sauce.

Okay, it may not be world-famous, but I will tell you this: Jacquie had me make it for Christmas Even one year in San Diego.

That's pretty stinkin' famous.

And it is also is just really so stinkin' good.

While I attended to duties in the kitchen . . .

. . . Schleckah attended to adorning his Grandma's tablecloth with the necessary accoutrement . . .

. . . including 3 bottles of lovely chardonnay he -- and his wine man Ken -- lovingly picked out earlier that day.

(Bill got much farther than the front porch on Saturday.)

Now would you look at that?

Not only was it a delicious meal, it matched the tablecloth. And that is an important consideration during tablecloth dinners.

We may have to get ol' Grandma's tablecloth back out for lefties.

9 comments:

Me, You, or Ellie said...

...and without even a word about kicking poison ivy's ass, and all that brand-new, fresh, pink skin growing in in its place.....

Well, until now.

Ellie

Rita.the.bookworm said...

Delicious looking dinner! This line, however, I made it as far as the front porch that day. And I'm still peeved about that: I should have sent Schleckah out to get the mail. slayed me and I may have to outright plagiarize you at some point.

How were the wines? I loved how you clearly showed us the label so we could go out and get the same ones, very considerate of you! I'm always looking for a new good wine!

Me, You, or Ellie said...

Yes, wine. I'd like some please. All I've got in front of me is mint tea, and it's an awful day here in San Diego. Cold, wet, and miserable. AND it's Monday.

AND, I won't be having any of your lefties.

It does look divine...

beth

Me, You, or Ellie said...

LOL Ellie, I could hardly get through reading fast enough to get one here and comment about your skin... I was so distracted by that and your gratuitous cleavage, I really have no idea what this post was about!

Jacquie

Me, You, or Ellie said...

LOL, Jacquie. There is nothing gratuitous about my cleavage. Jealous.

And the wine was fab, Rita and Beth. Mr. Schleckah and I liked the Undurraga the best. It was specifically chosen to complement linguine and clammies. And Mistah wants everyone to know Ken is just one of his many many excellent wine men.

Ellie

Mom C said...

I love this Ellie, love grandma's tablecloth. How about sharing the yum recipe - I'm sure dad would love to make it. love you mom

Me, You, or Ellie said...

Ellie? Are you holding a lamp in your left hand while you serve with your right?

And isn't the new word verification task AWESOME????

j

Me, You, or Ellie said...

It *is* awesome. And yes I am. But nobody was supposed to notice that. Mistah Schleckah was having lighting problems. But hey! I can multi-task like nobody's business. I make it mah *business* to multitask like nobody's business.

E.

Springer Kneeblood said...

Alright, I will be the first one to fess up to wanting the recipe. For the clam sauce, of course, not the gratuitous cleavage. My clam sauce looks nothing like that, which makes me want even more to try yours.