Thursday, June 01, 2006

Dinner Dreams

I'll be confined to barracks this weekend as my MOT runs out tomorrow and Gordon, my friendly mechanic, can't fit me in until Monday morning. I've got no plans to see anybody or do anything in particular ( other than getting thoroughly acquainted with Bertha the Earthtruck) and with Jack away, I'll be craving company. I've agreed to help out behind the bar at the football club on Saturday night. There's a 40th birthday party so at least the music is likely to be decent and it beats spending another night sitting in the Shed.

What I'd really like to do would be to host a fabulous dinner party. I'm not entirely sure what would be on the menu but chances are it would be a slow-roasting dish, probably lamb, followed by a chocolate pudding covered in coronary cream. I've also been wondering who I might invite.

I'd love Queen Elizabeth I to come over so we could chat in assorted languages, mainly about boys and how hard it is to find a good one, but she'd have to dress in something more practical or else there'd be no room for Alexander The Great. Now there's a man I could marry. A natural born leader, decisive, determined, handsome, away for long periods of time, likes libraries. 'Course, I'd have him well insured. Shame about the homosexuality and shortness but it's something I'm beginning to think I might have to compromise on ( and if he came in the form of Colin Farrell, I might just be able to manage that). He'd likely have some interesting views on how to resolve the current Middle East problems.

Bess of Hardwick would tell us all how she managed to find and marry 4 eligible men, each one progressively wealthier than the last enabling her to become the first lady of Chatsworth, grandmother to a legitimate claimant to the throne and the richest woman in Britain at the time of her death. I imagine her and Queenie might need sitting at opposite ends of the table though.

It would be great to hear first hand about Ibn Battuta's 14th century travels and his opinion on whether to take travellers' cheques or use plastic. Vita Sackville-West could give me tips on how to maximise my herbaceous borders and Oscar Wilde would discuss the current state of the prison system with me and ask for some grammatical help on his latest manuscript.

I'd revel in hearing Maria Callas' stories of Aristotle and whether the bar stools on the yacht Christina really were covered in sperm whale foreskin. I could tell her all about the time I once swam in the harbour at Skorpios and pretended I was her. Oh, how we'd laugh. I'd have to watch she didn't overdo the wine though. I wouldn't want any ouzo-soaked weeping or wailing to spoil the atmosphere.



I'd sit Elvis, the young leather-clad one, between me and Mata Hari, who'd have called round earlier to run through a quick after-dinner dance routine with me to surprise and delight the other guests, so he could compare her flat chest to my ample bosom. He's a greedy boy so unlikely to go for the waif look.

Leonardo da Vinci would add some gravitas to the proceedings, and maybe even paint a fresco of it later to grace my bare Shed walls. It would mean making him a seperate vegetarian dish but there's always at least one faddy eater.

"Course, you'll have guessed by now who the 12th diner would be. I couldn't not invite Michael Owen. I doubt he'd have the slightest thing in common with me or any of the other guests nor us any interest in anything he might want to talk about, which probably wouldn't amount to much more than football and the time he broke Grandad Arthur's ankle on the Ewloe Village Green, but at least it might shut the Quasis up at Christmas.

Who would you want to cook for?

32 Comments:

Blogger Kate said...

Aaw, poor little Michael. He might be fascinating company. OK, maybe not LOL

7:19 pm  
Blogger homo escapeons said...

I'll give Sir Richard a ring and we'll return your tomato plants!

7:47 pm  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

I think I'd have Cburchill, Lady Astor and Bernard Shaw just for the sheer entertainment value - be sure to keep Astor away from the soup.

Orson Welles in his "Third Man" days - he'd eat less that way.

Although he's still alive, Mel Brooks - "Blazing Saddles" is still the funniest movie of all time.

Alec Guinness - a nice, wry sense of humor to the proceedings

Half dozen down, six to go . . .

9:29 pm  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

And I still think your missing tomato plant's a triffid, so jack up the stereo volume.

9:30 pm  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

Carl Perkins instead of Elvis - his version of "Blue Suede Shoes" is superior.

9:31 pm  
Blogger krusty the baker said...

Anthony Blunt - why did he do it?

Brunel - how did he do it?

Mallory - did he do it?

10:33 pm  
Blogger andrea said...

If Oscar Wilde accepts I'll be party crashing!

10:55 pm  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

I wish I'd said that.

You will FE, you will . . . .

12:00 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Kate - you're a naturally generous kind soul. I recognize a kindred spirit.

HE - I've replaced it with a cucumber now. Much more practical so there's no need for you and the bearded one to pop round just as I'm about to serve the starters. I'll invite you to the next one, promise.

12:06 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Fronty - Lady Astor was on my reserve list but not that Churchill. Insists on smoking his cigars before the Queen's Toast, truly frightful.

Orson would be a good guest and I take your point about the portion control. I was a little hesitant about Elvis for the same reason but then I figured that at least something would get eaten if my cooking was awful.

Carl Perkins wasn't as shaggable as The King.

The temptation for the rest of the guests would be too much if Mel Brooks came, even though I wouldn't be serving baked beans. Can you imagine the chaos?

Alec's a good choice although given that most of my other guests are gay, Ian McKellen would be a more likely replacement for me.

I wonder why I do that? Surround myself with gay men? Is it so I don't have to contemplate being hideously unattractive when they don't immediately fancy me?


I can't help worrying that readers in the deep south are staring at sheets of empty pages where the editorials should be right now

12:13 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Krusty - you're sticking with my gay theme too, I see, with old Tony. He's too angular for my liking.

I'm not a fan of engineers although I appreciate the genius of Brunel.

Now I hadn't thought of adding in a medieval poet. I'd quite enjoy discussing Mort D'Arthur with Mallory - oh! now I wish I'd asked Tennyson. There's more to consider than I first thought

12:17 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Andrea - you can help me in the kitchen if you like. Come over and get ready here. We can have a few glasses of wine and go through the routine with Mata before the rest of them arrive.

12:19 am  
Blogger cream said...

I'd cook for the invisible man!
Just to see if he really swallows!

12:23 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Ah, Cream. I was meaning to have a word with you. Now I'm not sure whether you do outside catering...

12:28 am  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

Well, while my tastes may not be . . . . cosmopolitan, McKellan would be excellent dinner company.

Sorry though, Perkins wins in the R&B department, although you could continue your theme with Little Richard.

Hell, throw in Charles Laughton - I want to hear him say "Mistah CHRIS-tian!"

Hemingway might be interesting, if only to hear him tell why the chicken crossed the road - "To die. Alone. In the rain."

12:44 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Hemingway was another reserve. I was just anxious to keep the beard count, and dribble problems, down.

Jesus got the bum's rush for the same reason.

2:30 am  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

Jesus got the bum's rush - there's an understatement

And my uncle's been in the air force since Pontius was a pilot

3:45 am  
Blogger homo escapeons said...

I forgot the thread..I'd have Richard Dawkins, Peter Sellers, David Attenborough, Keith Richards, Bowie, Errol Flynn and Peter O'Toole along with Princess Margaret, Sporty Spice, Twiggy, Marianne Faithful, Diana Dors, Ann Todd, Julie Christie and I would serve them hallucigenic magic mushrooms for starters and have a good old fashioned key party.

6:13 am  
Blogger cream said...

Cherrybabe, outside catering? Definitely not!
Can get a bit messy!

8:18 am  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

Can't help feeling that young Michael would feel a little left out. Here's this conversation about frescos and sexual climbing going on and all he'd be able to manage is the occasional observation that he's 'feeling great' and 'whatever the manager says' is alright with him.

You missed out Dorothy Parker and Oscar Wilde. Might as well have a laugh while you're eating.

Thankyou for the link, by the way. I need all the help I can get...

10:01 am  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

Oh. Sorry. You did invite Oscar Wilde. Must read slower, Mark, must read slower...

12:00 pm  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

I'd have Jerry Garcia. Always good for a philosophical rap, and there'd be a guitarist on hand to sing us a song when the conversation lulled. Plus, of course, a ready supply of stimulants.

12:02 pm  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

HE. Yep - I'd be up for that. Here, catch my keys. Hope I don't get Keith Richards though and that running commentary from David Attemborough is a bit off-putting. Sit me between Diana Dors and Marianne Faithfull though, and I think I could hold my own.

And at least you wouldn't have to worry too much about the catering - just buy a box of Mars Bars, sorry, Believe Bars.

12:22 pm  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Surely you'd be able to serenade your guests yourself with your guitar abilities, Mark. Are you back on that Viagra theme again?

12:25 pm  
Blogger The Unity Club said...

Thanks for putting me onto The Nuemes. I had a listen they were great so I took a chance and emailed them.
They have agreed to play at my club in Peterborough later on in the summer. We've yet to set a date.

Thanks a lot for that. You're wonderful. Good taste in music as well.
....End of ego massage...

1:38 pm  
Anonymous Mikedahat said...

The last comment from The Unity Club was me. I'd been doing UNity stuff and hadn't changed my ID over.
You're still wonderful

Note bonus ego massage no extra cost

1:41 pm  
Blogger Joyce said...

23 comments!!!
Can we still be friends?!
I'd invite Tinkerbell. First she'd sprinkle some fairy dust so that I'm not so moody and melancholy, then I'd beat her to a bloody pulp for being so tiny and adorable.

3:42 pm  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

That's great, Mike. I'm sure Charlotte and her sisters won't disappoint. I might even try and pop in myself if I can persuade anybody to come with me.

You're rather marvellous too - mwah! xx

Joyce - you're my Best Blogger Buddie. You can be as moody and miserable as you like ( but you never are) although I'm not sure I can condone violence against fairies - but if she's really really skinny then she deserves all she gets. ( " I love fairies! I love fairies!" repeat as often as possible)

4:52 pm  
Blogger Cherry Rolfe said...

I really think I should come along as I am concerned that Elvis might feel left out in the intellectual stakes and I know he isn't a football fan. My interpersonal skills are second to none if you discount my depressive socio-phobia and I fear you will be too busy as hostess to give him the attention he deserves. (Would you like me to bring pudding?)

1:45 pm  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

Cherry, I think I need all the help I can get - please bring anything you can. I hadn't actually invited Elvis for his conversational abilities, I just thought he'd make the table look pretty.

1:57 am  
Blogger Frontier Editor said...

Cherry, could you fry enough peanut butter and banana sandwiches to keep the King happy?

Elvis is everywhere
Elvis is in ev'rything
Elvis is in ev'rybody
Elvis is still the king
I don't know 'bout you and me
But there ain't no one like the
Big E

(with apologies to Mojo Nixon and Skid Roper)

4:38 am  
Blogger Cherrypie said...

I'll leave Cherry Rolfe to deal with the peanut butter/ banana combinations and just hope he prefers my mouth-melting lamb and Aztec Wellie Fudge chocolate extravaganza.

Right now, I've satisfied about 200 40-somethings almost insatiable alcohol appetites and 1 Fred Flintstone Farmer ( it was 70s-themed fancy dress), my feet are throbbing, my back aches and I might sleep right up until my MOT is due. I don't think I could cope with a Tennessee table-tennis tea party let alone a greedy Rock God, no matter how pretty he might be.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

4:55 am  

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