I love hosting people at my house.
This is an aspect of myself that I never really expected, and still don’t know quite how to deal with. A week ago, we had a pair of missionaries over to our house. I had to change the menu on the fly because I ran out of time, so they got instant mashed potatoes and packet gravy, but the packet gravy was a really good brand. The dessert (cake mix, pumpkin, chocolate chips) was better than the dinner, but it was all edible.
Yesterday, we had another couple over with their boy. I made spaghetti and meatballs. I’ve never made meatballs before. I made them from ground turkey because ground turkey is 100% better than ground beef, and it all turned out all right. I went all fancy and plated the food and had salads and everything. I’ve been watching too many cooking shows.
Today, I’m just having my brother and his wife over. And I’m looking forward to it.
I really do like to cook (though I am a work in progress with my cooking skills)–I like to try new things and meal plan and put something together that tastes good. It’s way cheaper than eating out and it tastes better too, since when I cook I can match my taste-buds perfectly. I love to visit with people, too, especially in smaller settings.
Since I grew up in a house full of kids (I have six brothers and sisters), we had friends over, but my parents never really hosted much–their children were enough to cook for. And since I want a decently big family, that’s probably my fate.
And my second problem is that my husband and I are probably going to end up in the middle of nowhere (a job he applied for is 30 minutes away from the nearest town). So it will lead to some isolation, I suppose.
But I guess I can enjoy it while I can.