A woman I know is an amazing entertainer. When she throws a dinner party, it’s performance art with an apron. For one gathering, she was excited to put to use a recently inherited antique family dining table. It was a long, narrow rustic carved wood thing rumored to have come from a castle.
I can’t vouch for its pedigree except to say, it clearly was not from Ikea. Trouble was, it didn’t fit in her dining room. Guests were on the way. In a last ditch effort, she and her husband moved their cars and carried the table into the garage for a feast.
One guest, running late due to a work emergency, arrived after everyone was seated. We heard him walking up the driveway. The hostess pushed the garage-door opener. Fine china and lawnmowers, sparkling crystal and garden tools, lively friends and rusty tricycles all look great in candlelight. It became, unintentionally, one of her most memorable meals.