Hosting, Being a Guest... and Brownies!



Martina Mirandola Mullen

 by guest writer Martina Mullen

After having lived in Europe during the fall of 2011, I moved to Cincinnati in January, hoping to establish a more permanent residence. This move came with the usual discovering of a new city and its people, but also included a bit of reverse culture shock as I re-acclimated to aspects of an American lifestyle.  I missed not having the time and option to go to fresh, local markets, but was easily able to make do with Cinci’s Jungle Jims and Findlay Market. Good crusty bread is harder to find, but does exist and tastes delicious when make the effort to locate it.  And although I walked everywhere in Rome, I quickly readjusted to the lifestyle of automobiles in America, and even took it one step further by adding an hour-long commute to and from my new job. However, I am still adjusting to on specific aspect of my fellow Americans, and finding it hard to do so.

            When did the rules of being a guest or a host change? Call me old-fashioned in my great age of 26, but it seems to me that the feeling of entitlement of my generation to have what you want, when you want it, how you want it, has superseded the need to be a good guest or host.  Let me explain. After moving to a new city, I feel the need to meet people. I’m a social person and not having friends does not sit well with me. So, I met a few people from my apartments and invited them to dinner. I soon found out that this experience was not going to be as easy as I had imagined.

            First, I had to take inventory of allergies and intolerances: How many lactose intolerant people? Anyone allergic to nuts? Do we have any celiacs in the crowd? Other strange allergies I don’t know about?  I can’t blame any of my guests for these. You can’t help your gluten intolerance and I can’t help the fact that cheese and my stomach are unfortunately not friends…and I’d like all of my guests to leave my house alive. However, Round 2 of planning gets a little more complicated: Is anyone a vegetarian? How about vegans? Are there any food taboos associated with the religions of my guests? Any other social or cultural restrictions I should know about?  Again, my American respect of individualism prohibits me from becoming too annoyed. Vegetarians should have the freedom to make a statement of principle and, being Catholic with its No Meat Fridays, I not only respect but empathize with those who cannot eat certain foods due to religious prohibitions.

            So I’m driving back to my apartment two days before my dinner, trying to configure a menu to accommodate the gluten-free guest, my cheese intolerance, the vegetarian, and the Muslim guest when I run into one of the invitees in the parking lot of our building. After exchanging small talk, I run my potential menu by him: bread, risotto with sun-dried tomatoes, vegetarian eggplant and zucchini moussaka with no meat and cheese only half of the dish (can be eaten as a side or entrée), and a roasted chicken. He cringes. My heart sinks. “Does that sound okay?” I ask.  “Well….I don’t really like eggplant,” he explains. Okay. So now we’re going to Level 3 of planning of a dinner: accommodating all of the specific food preferences of your guests? “No problem,” I say, “I’ll figure something else out.” I think of another dish all the way up the stairs – I need one filling enough for a vegetarian to eat, but that could also serve as a veggie side dish for the meat eaters of the group. I draw a blank and ultimately decide to tack a salad on the growing menu  so as to accommodate my new eggplant-hating friend.

            The next day I realize I should make a dessert. I have a great recipe for olive-oil lemon cake in one of my cookbooks; it’s different and still really good. I run this by a new apartment friend over drinks. She cringes. My heart sinks…again. “Ooooo, I don’t really like lemon,” she says. “No problem,” I respond, “ How about peanut butter fudge?” It’s fast, easy, and tasty, I think to myself. Take a guess at what happened next…her boyfriend is allergic to nuts. At this point my brain is exhausted and I don’t even feel like cooking anything, and then I throw out my last attempt, “What about brownies?” Her eyes light up, “We love brownies!!” BINGO. I should have gone there first... American can resist the brownie.

            What ever happened to eating what the hosts cooks? When did inviting people to dinner turn into the host being a personal chef for multiple guest, commissioned to appease the tastes and restrictions of each individual? I can’t say that I’m not guilty of imposing my no-cheese or cream restriction on my host, but I am a little surprised at the detailed explanations of “can’t do” foods that I am given by guests.

            In the end, the dinner turned out well – we had a nice showing of 5 people plus us with - this is not a joke - a vegetarian, a no-pork eater, caeliac, and a no-cheese eater. I cooked all day and presented a buffet of food for the guests to choose from. Some guests ate a little of this or that, and the three non-restricted ate a little of all of the plates. The only food that no one passed up was the brownies. I said goodbye to the last guest, mentally exhausted.

          As I sat on the couch after everyone had left, I reflected on the night. All of my efforts rendered me with two vital conclusions: 1)These days, it’s better to go out to eat with new friends, and 2) You can’t wrong with the food that no American can resist…the brownie.