Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life

Dinner With The In-Laws

Dinner with the in-laws. A truly frightening phrase. But I survived it. I even think it was successful.

Those who know me know that I never bother to try and impress anyone (excepting, of course, potential clients with lots of money) nor do other people's opinions of me matter in the least (except, again, those of my clients.) Still, my first time cooking for Rachel's mom and stepfather was a noticeable event.

We planned the event for 7pm -- a hideously early hour to eat dinner, if you ask me. Rachel and I got home shortly before seven, after visiting my Dad at the Jewish Home. I started getting ready right away.

Diane and John arrived right around 7pm, and Rachel gave them the grand tour. Although Diane had seen the house previously, she hadn't been over since we got the bedroom painted and set up; John had never visited.

Meanwhile, I was furiously making quesadillas as appetizers in the kitchen. I got the first one done, sliced it up, dumped it on a plate, added a bowl of salsa, met them in my dad's room. I handed the plate of quesadillas off to Rachel and disappeared back into the kitchen to make another quesadilla and finish up the main course.

By the time they were upstairs, I had all the veggies chopped and the chicken cooking. The rice was simmering away happily, so I was able to zip upstairs for a quick demo of the speed of the DSL connection and an explanation of the network.

After that, I flew back downstairs to finish cooking the chicken and start adding the rest of the ingredients. I got a little worried that I might have prepared too much fresh vegetables for the dish, but the pan I used turned out to be just big enough.

Of course, during all of this, I was trying to take some digital pictures of the ingredients and finished product for my web page, which didn't make things any easier.

Eventually, however, the rice was cooked, the Chicken was done, the table was set, and we were ready. I let everyone know (they were in Rachel's office, talking about the house) and we sat down to dinner.

Luckily, Diane and John both liked it, with John adding a bit of hot sauce. They even had seconds. For some reason, it turned out runnier than usual, but no one seemed to notice.

For dessert, John and Diane had Cherry Garcia ice cream; Rachel had her weight watchers thing. I passed (we were low on the ice cream, and I wasn't sure they would understand me putting it in the microwave.)

After dinner, we adjourned to the living room where I couldn't bring myself to sit on my mom's love seat and chairs. So we all sat on Rachel's couch and looked at wedding pictures. Yes, that was just about as fascinating as it sounds.

At some point, (around 10pm or so) we decided to call it a night. I packed up the leftovers and sent it home with them. Rachel and I put the dishes in the sink to soak and turned in.

All-in-all, it was incredibly suburbanesque. Still, I survived it. And I would have to call it a fairly successful evening.

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