Last night, we had 3 couples over for dinner. Instead of doing something simple for dinner (salad, pasta, the usual), we decided, after catching an episode on the Food Network one morning, to make Tyler Florence's Pork Pernil.
The recipe was pretty straightforward. Make a rub with herbs/garlic/etc, cut some slits in the skin, rub it in, roast for three hours, done. The recipe also called for a boneless shoulder, but when I went to Savenor's to pick up the meat, all they had was bone-in. After asking the butcher to remove the bone, he assured me that leaving the bone in would add to the flavor. What he DIDN'T tell me was that it would also add to the cooking time. Considerably.
So while I was chatting with people in the living room, Josh saved dinner. After about three and a half hours, he realized that the inside was still pretty pink. He spent about an hour making MORE rub in the food processor, taking out the pork and making additional slices to help it cook faster and then cleaning up the additional cooking mess. Oh, he also took care of the sides that I started and plated everything up.
Dinner was served and his efforts were a huge hit. People ate, we laughed about toilet babies, drank wine (well, others did), ate my crazy made-up dessert (more on that later). And then while we all sat around and chatted some more after dessert, Josh snuck off to the kitchen and did about 80% of the clean up.
If I ever, EVER forget how lucky I am, remind me of this, the last dinner party we will ever have.
Oh a related note, last night also made me realize how similar we are to my parents. My dad loved entertaining, having people over, holding court, socializing, but my mother had to do all the work. She made sure there was enough food, the house was clean, people had something sweet to eat after dinner, etc. So while my dad was being his charming self with company, she was stressing out in the kitchen. She got the short end of the stick in that respect and I am seeing it happen with us. Hopefully I will remember Josh and the pork that wouldn't cook next time I express the desire to cook for a large group, and realize that, at the end of the day, no matter how much shopping and chopping I do, it is Josh that ends up bearing the brunt of it.