The Dinner Party

We used to entertain quite often but, as the years go by, lifestyles change and child-rearing sometimes takes over. I was searching through a drawer the other day and came across a notebook from the seventies, in it I wrote both recipes and dinner party lists. The guests and the menu.
As an aside, I bought the book at Stuttafords, back in the glory days when they were the only ones to import (for then) exciting goodies and a pilgrimage to Claremont was highly anticipated. Nowadays of course Stutts is just another store and that exciting stuff is commonplace. Sad.
But, I digress. Our very first "dinner party" had but one guest. We'd been married for a few weeks and Rowland invited a friend of his to dinner. The (one course) meal was some sort of beef mince dish and to my horror, our guest finished his food and then proceeded to lick the plate clean. A burp would have sufficed.
As the years rolled by the dinners became more adventurous and we began to realise that there are the entertainers and the entertainees, but no matter, we have always enjoyed our role.
Infamous meals include the one where one guest arrived slightly plastered and when his wife told him the mushrooms (which he hated) were in fact kidneys (which he loved) he wolfed down his meal. Sadly it was returned to sender a short while later.
In the early cellphone days a rather self-important guy took "a call" in another room and on his return asked me to heat up his Gazpacho. Or how about the time number one son (who knew no shame) ate the whole salami that was part of my appetizer. Good times.
We like to mix and match our guests, young and old these days so that the conversation doesn't dwell on retirement plans and medication. Besides, we're pretty young at heart and plan to stay that way.
I believe the Queen Mum was still hosting dinner parties when she was 100 years old, admittedly with somewhat more help than our homestead but, who's to say we shan't be doing the same?
More wine anyone?