My column for week of July 6th:
“Having things to look forward to throughout the year, whether centred around a holiday or not, is what life is about.” So says Emily Schuman, author of “Cupcakes and Cashmere” and “Cupcakes and Cashmere at home”. She is a girl after my own heart. She is not as perfectionistic as Martha Stewart (though my plan for retirement is to be awarded for a white collar crime I have committed and be incarcerated in luxury like she was for whatever it was she did—had something to do with stocks, right?). Nor is she too basic and simplistic—throwing on a gunny sack to entertain guests while stirring up a pot of vegetarian chili (not, in a Seinfeldian aside, that there is anything wrong with either jute burlap or vegetables.)
Schumann is all for relaxed elegance, comfortable sophistication, and cosy casualness. After all, if you write two books with “cupcakes “ in the title, you must be somewhat relaxed. Have you ever tried to eat a cupcake without getting an icing moustache? I have tried to eat the little critters with a fork but that just seems ostentatious and a little bit paranoid. Admittedly you can eat a cupcake neatly, but that means not getting both cake and icing in one bite, and what is the point of that?
Schumann is much like me in that she finds preparing for and looking forward to a holiday or event is just as exciting as the actual soiree. She says that it is always “the preparations beforehand” that she loves the most, whether it is picking “out my pumpkin for the perfect jack o’lantern in the middle of October or stringing up heart lights for Valentine’s Day–those are the memories I treasure most.”
Like me, she loves looking forward to things. Having something on your calendar that is just a little bit “special” is living and reliving the event even before it occurs. Many times I have a fantastic event all planned out in my mind, with the perfect décor and food and outfit all picked out. The fact that by the time the event arrives I can barely get the dusting done, the food fixed, and don my jeans instead of the lovely dress I was planning on does not diminish my dreams at all. And there are times that I have pulled off an event dressed just right, with a killer recipe or two, and candles accompanying just the right décor for the event.
Schuman admits to being a little “corny and cliché” and anyone who has ever read this column (or blog or FB post) knows these two adjectives describe me to a T. I love corny and cliché, with the belief that anything corny (tried and true with heart) and cliché (something that always has some truth at its heart) are two of life’s most pleasant elements. Like Schuman I believe that “what goes on the table—from the food to the flowers—is really only as important as who is around it.”
For her celebration of “ Friendsgiving” Schumann says she sends a “proper card” as an invite to the event. The Fare is Thanksgiving in nature featuring ye olde turkey and all the fixings and whipped cream for the pumpkin and pecan pies. I mention the whipped cream because she has an exclamation point behind it on her menu. None of the other foods warranted an exclamation point.
She has many unique ideas for all kinds of events, but two in particular caught my attention. The first is her “Tuesday night dinner party” which she says “doesn’t have to be that much more than a lift”. I am all for this kind of party—its gets you through that first part of the week with something to look forward to, and helps get you over “hump day” with the glow of a pleasant evening past. She suggests keeping the menu simple. I suggest that no matter what you decide to serve it should not be accompanied with Styrofoam plates and plastic wine glasses. Crystal and china with flowers on a beautifully set table make Tuesday into something to remember.
The second party that really caught my imagination is the “Summer nostalgia party”. She centres her parties around “board games and treats” and suggests Kool-Aid with tequila and High-C with vodka. Hamburgers and hot dogs accompanied by other “old school treats” including S’mores are on her go-to menu. She says that “a game of Twister will help set the mood” while playing old summer hits. I say that a game of Twister will set the mood for a trip to the emergency department for me, so I may settle for a more sedate set of croquet (though I will probably catch my toe on a cage and quite possibly break my neck). My brother Jim did not nickname me “Grace” for nothing.
Can you eat a cupcake elegantly? Or still play a game of Twister?