Regular readers of this blog have complained that I have not written about the bar / bat mitzvah celebration. I’ve been having trouble with the image manager on the site and wanted to wait until I could share photos.
Here are some of our guests. They are enjoying the good company, the warmth and joy of the occasion and the baby lamb chops. There seems to be something about baby lamb chops. It doesn’t matter what else you are serving. People dig lamb chops.
I learned something else. There are two kinds of people who dig lamb chops. My mom falls into one category. She was smart enough to know how much everyone loves baby lamb chops so she was not shy. She had three or four of them. She said she ate them with her hands. Gotta love my mother.
Then there is the category I fall into. Actually, it’s the category a good number of our house guests fell into. It’s the “I can’t wait to dig into the leftovers” category. It’s the “I’ll just have one right now and not make a pig of myself. I’ll even eat it with a fork and knife. Later I’ll raid the fridge and slobber all over a few of them” category.
My friend Kim was right there with me. So too our friend Sheila. And of course Eileen.
There we were, barely standing after a very long and fabulous day. It seemed as if we all arrived in the kitchen on cue. As if there was some baby lamb chop karma in the air.
I began to rummage through the fridge. Huh. I don’t see the lamb chops. We have a second fridge in the garage (Eileen likes to be prepared in case 25 people drop by unexpectedly for dinner). No lamb chops.
First we were puzzled. The caterers left us with so much of their delicious food (www.showstoppersny.com). One by one, we each take yet another look. No lamb chops.
Then the analysis begins. Didn’t you see leftover baby lamb chops?, Kim asks me. I’m sure I did, I reply. I wonder if we’ve been robbed. Should I have checked everyone’s bags before they left.?Ǭ† We were getting pathetic. And desperate. We found ourselves obsessing about the lamb chops, talking about how delicious they were. Did you eat yours with your fingers or with a knife and fork?, Kim asks. Now I wish I’d picked that damned lamb chop up and licked it clean, I replied.
I know that I was thinking that I should be kvelling about the kids, talking about how wonderful the service was, how much I loved having all our loved ones together. But I just couldn’t help myself. No one could.
There was only one conclusion to reach based on the evidence. The catering staff also fell into the “I can’t wait to dig into the leftovers” category, too. (Note: good for them. They worked hard and deserved every last morsel)
Oh, there was one other conclusion to reach. Next time I see baby lamb chops on a buffet, I’m going to take a lesson from my mom’s playbook. I’ll put my martini in one hand and will seize the moment. And those scrumptious baby lamb chops.
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