If I’m a little incoherent in my writing, that’s because my husband is currently rubbing my feet, and that makes my fingers go all tingly. Lest you protest that I am disclosing far too much information, let me just tell you that I deserve it. I was on my feet A LOT over the past few days, preparing for our New Year’s Day Brunch / Birthday Party. You see, my husband’s birthday is on December the 31st, which means either that there are always built-in birthday parties going on, or else that it’s really hard to do a birthday party. Because we have friends whose long-standing tradition is to host a rocking New Year’s Eve bash, that night is basically out of the question – so any birthday festivating must either happen in advance of said date (bad luck, ze Germans would say) or else afterwards.
In fact, a number of our friends have a monopoly on various holidays, which has left me in search of a holiday or event that could be “Our Thing.” So little Miss Smartypants thought New Year’s Day might be it. We could do brunch AND celebrate the sexiest man Russia ever did produce, all at the same time. It seemed great – in theory. While relaxing and spending the first day of the year with friends and family truly IS a fantastically grand time, spending the two days prior to the first (including the aforementioned hubby’s birthday) cooking, baking, and otherwise preparing for such a feast, was not. If we do another New Year’s Brunch in 2010, it’ll be family only … because making one quiche is a whole lot easier than baking two maple bacon quiches, 24 mini sausage and pepper frittatas, 24 mini chorizo cups with a cornmeal crust, two Lemon Olive Oil and rosemary cakes, a Spinach, bacon, and pine nut frittata, spicy sweet potato and russet hash, Pommes Anna with rosemary, a baked Zuchini, potato and basil hash, and not one but TWO Greek New Year’s Cakes, because the first came out far too brown and with the dime clearly visible on top. Let’s not get into the fact that the second had a similar problem, because then I’d have to tell you all about my nutty 1970s oven and it’s theory of temperature relativity.
So there. I think I deserve a good foot rubbing. And you deserve sexy food photos, which I can now take using the snazzy Nikon D40 my parents gifted us … but did I? Oh, no. I was wiping up bits of food from the floor and making sure that children didn’t think the Mimosas in the pitcher were mere orange juice. Oh, and teaching my son about sharing his cool new toys.
So I leave you with just a few photos of the day’s proceedings … and wish you a happy, healthy, and blessed 2009!
Ahh, Winter in Arizona