An impromptu dinner party.

Originally posted February 2012.


I hadn’t planned on feeding six people on a Thursday night, though I did invite pretty much everyone who could see my Facebook page over for penne with vodka sauce and garlic bread. Not only because I happen to like my friends. And cooking. And feeding people. But I was supposed to make dinner for my sister, who is in Jersey with her two awesome dogs until May, while her husband finishes up his combat training in Texas. But she had to cancel, so I had lots of pasta and bread and a hunk of pancetta roughly the size of my head, and there was no way I was letting any of that go to waste, or even go uneaten. I had gotten myself psyched up. I was going to make this dinner, even if I had no one to share it with but my cat.

But, I invited over my former roommate, and Colin came home with three of our friends in tow, so pasta for two or three quickly became pasta for six. (I was so glad I’d grabbed extra cans of tomato sauce on my last trip to the grocery store.)

And while normally, sitcoms and movies would have you believe that last-minute dinner parties are enough to turn you into this — or this — I was totally in my element, and happy to spend the night with a group of awesome people.

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