Cuatro de Abril

My annual Final Four party took place this weekend and mostly went off without a hitch.  Well, besides the chicken wing soup disaster that Crystal miraculously saved and the fact that a 14-year-old scooped me on Facebook with his own, wholly inaccurate reporting of the night's events.  Oh, and all the teams that I needed to win lost in games that were mostly unwatchable (although I didn't actually watch any of them).  But other than that, things went well.  Everyone seemed to like my chili -- or at least they were being kind in their compliments -- and the meatballs also got raves, even if they were the same frozen meatballs with jar Ragu sauce that I "make" every year.  I had a beer or two (or three or four), but I was not as drunk as Tyler made me out to be, even after my unprovoked double shot of tequila when I heard Aaron had been into the Jose Cuervo.  You really couldn't blame me, though, with a combination of Jews, Puerto Ricans, Asian Americans, Irish Americans, and Switskys all gathered in my kitchen.  Not to mention a handful of kids running around my house and leaving Dorito crumbs all over my bedroom.  The party was fun.  The cleanup afterwards?  Not as much.

This morning we took a trip to Highstown Diner, the site of world-famous homemade corned beef hash, as featured on an episode on one of my favorite Food Network programs, Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.  Unfortunately, homemade or not, corned beef hash is still corned beef hash and I didn't particularly enjoy the bite I had (and refused Aaron's attempts to get me to try it again).  But the pancakes were delicious.  The coffee and service was good.  And I would highly recommend a visit for anyone on a DDD tour of central New Jersey.  Especially if you're suffering from a dull headache after a night of too much tequila and too much chili and not enough Big East victories.  But hey, it's baseball season anyway.  And good luck to Aaron in his attempts to get me to pay off his pool winnings.  F UNC.

I don't remember much from the party, well at least not much more than hasn't already been Facebook'd or Liveblogged or Twittered (or whatever the fuck Tyler was doing on my laptop before Lenny started playing what my friends later described as "solitaire").  Before everyone arrived, I realized (a) cooking isn't as easy as the Food Network makes one believe, (b) following directions is probably better than just assuming I can add as much liquid as I want, and (c) hot wings in a crock pot is a poor use of a crock pot.  Luckily, Crystal and a hot oven saved the wings to some extent and the rest of the food went over better, especially after Crystal also reminded me of the laws of thermodynamics with respect to the impossibility of water evaporation while a lid is on the pot.  Thanks to everyone who brought stuff to eat; it was all good.  Except for Tanya's lemon chicken, which many described as "rubbery" and not nearly as good as my chili.  Thanks to Murph for his eclectic collection of beers, especially the "special" Belgian beer that either he or Aaron brought that was absolutely delicious.  Thanks to Rob for the Yankees/Phillies tickets (go Phillies!).  Thanks to Switsky for sampling my "vintage" Diet Coke.  Thanks to Mason for getting Jeter to pop out to right with runners in scoring position on the 2005 version of MLB baseball he was playing on my PlayStation.  And thanks to everyone for coming.

Comments

[Elmer Straw]

Since I wasn't there I'm sure the party wasn't very good.

[robyn]

I wasn't there either-- but I also realize it's not always all about me.....even though I am a tiny bit insulted that I was not even mentioned--since 3/5 of my family WAS there......

Sounds like a fun night--sorry I missed it

[Tyler]

Im always spoken so nicely about by Bill. My review was better.

[Tanya]

First of all, YOU did none of the cleanup, since the kitchen and everywhere else was clean before my son woke you up in the morning. Secondly, your chili was "OK" and edible. If you would like to call that "everyone seemed to like it", by all means do so. And my chicken was NOT rubbery, everyone who ate it enjoyed it. You also tried it and liked it, dumbass, so if you don't remember eating it because you were trying out new manly beers, that's not my fault. Just because you sabbotaged my meal does not mean I have any bitter feelings. It just makes the Throwdown that much more exciting when it happens. And lastly, it was a good party. No thanks to you. It was good only because the Switsky's were there and there was no strip tease by you on a coffee table. Peace. Out.