an ode to dinner parties, disastrous and otherwise
plus the dinner recipes I keep coming back to
It’s Friday, which means my neighborhood farmer’s market opens tomorrow. I’ve been counting down the days. After a freakishly warm winter in D.C., I’m curious to see what’s for sale. Maybe I’ll report back next week on my haul.
I’ve racked up a few paid subscribers over the past few weeks (thank you!), which made me think it was about time to give you all a return on your investment. So, voilà: a bonus essay and a roundup of my favorite weekday dinner recipes.
Scrolling Twitter Thursday morning, I came across a sweet and funny essay in Food & Wine in which Diep Tran, a chef and cookbook author, recalls the time she hosted an elaborate luncheon for her friends when she was 16. She describes burnt phyllo dough, Waldorf salads and a precarious meringue, and as I read, I couldn’t help but think of my own moment of teenaged entertaining angst.
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