When Jethro and I get invited to cook-outs and parties by friends of his, there’s a definite pattern.
We get invited.
Jethro forgets to tell me.
The hosts know Jethro, so they send me an invitation also because I am the social director of our marriage.
I scrounge for recipes to make something good for the party, possibly baked and chocolate, out of a deep-seated need to be loved.
I finally find something. It’s going to be amazing
The day before the party, I go to the store and pick out the ingredients.
The night before, I realize I’ve forgotten something.
The day of, I go out and get the forgotten ingredient. About four hours later than I intended to go shopping because there’s a “Flip This House” marathon on.
I come home and realize that the recipe takes about five hours total.
I end up making something I’ve made before, probably from Smitten Kitchen, sure that everyone will hate it.
We go to the party after I’ve changed three times and bemoan the fact that I’m fat.
Everyone at the party ends up liking what I’ve made because it’s free food and they’re already three beers in.
I swear that the next time I’ll be more prepared.
Rinse, repeat three weeks later.
Anyway, here’s my last culinary creation, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen. (Of course.) It’s Rosanne Cash’s Americana Potato Salad. Despite the implications of the title and the heritage of the author, you will not poop red, white and blue or fart country music. (Which is a damn shame, if you ask me.) It’s super tasty. Just make sure you make it in enough time to let it get nice and cold in the fridge. And don’t forget the fresh dill. That’s what makes it fancy and makes you look like a good cook.
There should be pictures of this, but we ate it all. So here’s my favorite Johnny Cash photo. (Aren’t they sweet?)