Dinner Party.5

The long awaited dinner party: the dinner party with the duke and his dutchess (the duke is, of course, important since he has four names; his son, however, is not allowed a title apart from esquire; his son is one year old, although we hear he's already dancing and on the verge of talking), in order to introduce them to JVS. Also present: Mr. and Mrs. Knox, a vivacious couple who also have three vivacious children who I used to (and will resume, if Mrs. Knox has anything to do with it) babysit, along with Frankinscence, Myrhh, and Warren (I never babysat them; rather, they were present at the dinner party).


Let's see: first of all, the dutchess is charming--I had never met her before. She arrived bearing pink roses ("Roses in America are wonderful--they smell. In Britain, they are bred to live longer and not smell. Who would buy them if they didn't smell?"). Within the first several moments, she gestured to her husband, describing him as "the quintessential British gentleman." And indeed he is! I've never seen him in anything but courdoroys, and this evening he wore a sweater vest and blazer. His manner were impeccable, while his wife's exuberance A) drove the conversation and B) added the ease that complimented his reserve. And her ring! Well, all of her jewelry... The fact that she convinced a Pakistani cab driver to vote for McCain over Obama and her pro-life zeal were also wonderful. Such a lady (literally).

Dear reader, you should have seen how the room came alive when it was announced that Warren is looking to join the marines. The pride and support overflowed.


The food: sweet potato soup with pecans on top (for which Warren darling-ly/manly-ly made an exception from his no-sweet-potato rule); pork with apple and onion chutney; couscous (my mother: "Is that the only thing you know how to make?"); squash and zucchini, and, for dessert, my grandmother's chocolate cake.