Last night, my husband and I went to a fantastic dinner party with an eclectic, fun group of folks. Multi-ethnic, multi-religious, multi-talented collection with a varied set of experiences and life circumstances. Married couples with and without children. A gay couple, unmarried, no kids. A just-friends couple (though we may suspect something there). Our hosts, co-habitating parents of one small child. One engaged couple. Hometowns and/or places where they grew up: Jamaica, Maui, St. Simon's Island, Dominican Republic, U.S. Virgin Islands, Atlanta, Dominican Republic, and California. Occupations: entrepreneur, orthodontist, psychologist, political consultant, restauranteur, hair dresser, artist, gemstone broker, real estate investor, teacher, and an importer. It was beautiful to see.
What we had in common: we were all foodies and all lovers of long, lingering meals with creative cocktails abound. Dinner started with a lovely potato-based curry fish soup. For dinner, there was grilled rack of lamb, dressed steelhead trout, tomato salad, couscous salad, roasted brussell sprouts, and tostones. *burp*
Cocktails, you ask? We had pomegranate bombs (host-created cocktail), sipping rum from Cuba, cucumber lemonade, cucumber martinis (I swear, they were great), and Italian port. But wait .. what about dessert? TWO courses: freshly sliced watermelon with balsamic dip, followed by poached pears and figs served with vanilla Haagen-Daz.
Needless to say, by the end of the festivities, this girl was quite tipsy. I tweeted that I was considering drunk tweeting. I got no less than a dozen replies, most encouraging me to go for it. Alas, I did not. But it was ONE MORE reason I love Twitter and my tweeps.
Good times.
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