For your Sunday morning reading enjoyment as still-a-hurricane Irene bears down on New York – I still have power and internet – there is this from a personal blog of André du Broc who plans to work his way through Martha Stewart’s cookies cookbook:
I have two dear friends who have decided to tie the knot and have asked that I officiate their nuptials this Fall. As part of the preparations, a dinner party was assembled for the bride’s and groom’s parents to meet me and my partner, Dan so that they’d know we weren’t Satanists or worse, Unitarians. Before the evening of the dinner I received several texts from the bride listing the topics I should avoid lest I “ruin her life”. Wanting nothing but happiness for her, I, of course obeyed the rules and stuck to the approved topics of conversation avoiding any topic that would make either set of parents uncomfortable. I hadn’t been in this situation since high school. All-in-all I believe Dan and I were charming. The bride and groom nervously flew about in the kitchen stirring a pot here and opening an oven door there while the two sets of parents sat exchanging pleasantries from around the beautiful new dining table purchased for this auspicious evening. From time-to-time, when the bride was able to exchange an undetected glance my way she’d give me a quick and pained expression that seemed to be saying, “Kill me. Kill me now.” The two sets of parents were very nice people although quite different from each other. The groom’s parents were part of the country club set, both athletic, both remarried, both versed in the sport of golf, innocuous charities and boxed wine. They seemed to be proud of their youthful vigor and with the proper training they could easily be spokespersons for multivitamins and Viagra.
The bride’s parents were homey nesters from the Northeast. Devout Catholics with spiritually-based world views and opinions and pew-shaped hineys. They recently returned from Italy where they were thrilled to view the Shroud of Turin. Dan and I thought that the authenticity of the shroud had been proven false but we listened attentively and nodded with feigned enlightenment. The groom’s parents did the same.
Feigned enlightenment? André, with his blog, may have committed the faux pas he was warned to avoid. Feigned enlightenment is worse than being a Unitarian. Worse than burned cookies. Worse than ultimate insult of being accused of drinking boxed wine.
See: And the Bars Come Crumbling Down! Apple-Cherry Crumble Bars! -235 eggs, 178 1/2 cups of sugar, 180 3/4 sticks of Butter, and 223 1/2 cups of flour used so far- 37 recipes to go! « André Bakes His Way Through Martha Stewart’s Cookie Book