A Moveable Party
A neighbor just turned 60. At 8:00 on the morning of her birthday, her friends, all women of a certain age, clad in their p.j.s and bathrobes, drove down her driveway with their car horns blasting, to wish her a happy day. Car trunks were opened and out came four tables, tablecloths, a flower arrangement, streamers, a “Happy Birthday” banner, folding chairs, and as fine a brunch as anyone could hope for.
They set up the tables right in her yard, spread the cloths, and laid out the food and drinkables. There was orange juice to mix with champagne for a Mimosa toast to the birthday girl. There were carafes of coffee, a creamer and sugar bowl. Cups, napkins, plates, and bowls, spoons, and forks appeared. There were baskets of Danish, two coffee cakes, and muffins both blueberry and banana. There were two large fruit salads with pineapple, melon, grapes and blueberries. There was a plate of sausages, and two hot and savory stradas, or breakfast casseroles, each different. (So, of course, everyone tried both, following the pot-luck principle of a little bit of everything.)
There was a grand carrot cake with “Happy 60th Birthday” writ large. Birthday cake for breakfast! And piles of funny, irreverent cards with messages involving wrinkles, memory loss and dogs because the birthday girl has two dogs (who, by the way, policed the yard snapping up muffin crumbs, spilled strada, and unwanted frosting).
What a good idea to bring a party to someone. She didn’t have to clean her house, prepare anything, or even dress especially for the occasion. It all happened outside, appeared like magic and disappeared the same way, even to the trash being taken away. There were two hours of good conversation, and then picture taking to record the event – though I don’t know what posterity will think about a group of nightwear-clad, older ladies mugging at the camera during what looks to be a picnic. Then the leftovers were wrapped up, the tablecloths shaken and folded, tables broken down and put back into vehicles. She said, “If you have to turn 60, I can’t think of a better way to do it.”
This crowd has had some practice at these movable parties, having brought teas to shut-in friends. Someone has to make sure it is a good day to descend on the guest of honor, and mid-afternoon a group converges with tea, sugar, cream, cookies, bars, little sandwiches, napkins, flowers, all the fixings for a tea party. After the right amount of conviviality, the tea things are picked up and washed, extra cookies put in a tin to stay at the house, and off everyone goes again.
Someone has to coordinate these events, phoning around, assigning goodies and supplies to bring, but remarkably enough, while hardly effortless, the moveable party isn’t onerous for any one person.
If you have to have a party, I can’t think of a better way to do it.
A Strada Recipe
Someone is bound to say, “What is a strada? how do you make one?” A strada is usually a layered dish made of breakfast-like, or quiche-like, ingredients, like sausage, ham, bacon, eggs, and cheese, which are sprinkled over a layer of bread, sliced or cubed. Someone speculated that it is called strada because it used to be known as strata, for the layers. Somehow I doubt that. Still, here is my strada strategy. The quantities below are for one person: multiply that basic ingredient list by the number of people you are serving. On the night before you plan to serve this dish, take:
One slice of any kind of bread you like (just don’t use really soft bread;) it can be cubed, or in whole slices in bottom of a baking pan.
One serving (you decide how much) of sausage browned and crumbled, any kind you like, even a zippy one like chorizo OR ham OR bacon fried and crumbled OR some of all of them. Or no meat.
Optional: a little browned onion, or chopped scallion or shallot; a little nutmeg; some Worcestershire sauce or hot sauce; a few slightly fried mushrooms; parsley; you know, stuff that makes things taste good.
One-quarter cup or less of cheese, any kind but preferably something melty, like swiss, jack or cheddar.
One egg for every two people
One-quarter cup milk, or half-and-half
Salt and pepper
Grease a casserole dish, and put in the bread. Sprinkle on the meat, and optional ingredients, and then the cheese. Beat together the egg, milk and salt and pepper, and pour over the rest of the ingredients. Cover and put into the fridge overnight.
In the morning, take it out of the fridge, preheat the oven to 350, and bake it for about 45-50 minutes till it is puffed and golden brown.
Islesboro’s Sandy Oliver is Publisher/Editor of Food History News at www.foodhistorynews.com.