Caterese: A Guide

 Saturday night, I attended my annual classy-rich-respectable-member-of-Whatcom-county-PNW-society event: The PeaceHealth Donor's dinner. Last year, there were four hundred of the county's most philanthropic in their Oscar-worthy garb and martini-guzzling checkbook fondling excellence. This year, the number was up to six hundred, so the venue required expansion. No longer in Bellingham, the party was held in a rather large factory that had been made over with elan and electricity to look quite elegant with a rugged-chic sort of touch that made me expect Batman to come crashing in from the sky to fight whatever super villain had showed up to capitalize on the presence of so many movers and shakers.

While I am one classy lady, these events are not necessarily my particular milieu. I don't care for the wine and cocktail swilling; I don't enjoy staying out late; I couldn't contribute towards that 9 million dollar goal if I tried; and, well, I'm an introvert. I don't do well with loud situations and multiple sprees of small talk over loud situations, especially where it is so loud, my conversation is based almost entirely on yelling the responses I expect to be expected based almost exclusively on body language. And this year, I forgot my earplugs. There are some parts that I most certainly enjoy - the films they show about our world class cancer center are inspiring and I'll admit to a tear welling up from a speech or two. The food, however, is not part of those moments.

Catered events are never particularly - er - catered to my tastes. I tend to find them frustratingly pretentious, while providing sometimes literally nothing that I would fathom eating. I have, however, in these times learned how to speak their language. I hope that in my impending negotiations over this whole wedding food related stuff, I will be able to rely on my skills a little bit, since my self-imposed time for talking to caterers is near nigh.

Allow me to help with a little guide for you


Crisp Iceberge Wedge Salad with Oregon Blue Cheese Dressing, Holmquist Hazlenuts, Hempler Bacon, and baby tomatoes...


Translation: Half an iceberg lettuce with something kind of ranch dressingish, slopped in a tiny rivulet down the middle and about two halved baby tomatoes huddling on the edges of the plate, plus some hazlenut crumbs trailing down the rivulet like silt in a stream.

Sesame and Balsalmic Roasted Portobello with Grilled Polenta and Warm Gorgonzola Cream...


Translation: We think that portabello mushroom is the only thing that vegetarians eat and since it looks like meat, it offends us less to make a dish with this in it. We weighed the other go to - fettucini alfredo - and while fatty and bland enough, it just lacked something that made us feel like we were still cooking with meat. And that made us sad. Also, to make up for the lack of protein, we figure we'd better add some fat, so we made sure to drown the whole thing in so much oil that the reflection of the mushrooms can be seen from space. And then some rounds of acceptable polenta smothered in some kind of slimy green that once might have been salad, and, ok, more cheese sauce that is vaguely reminiscent of the cheese you squirt onto nachos at ballgames except it's actually white instead of bright yellow; because cheese is and animal product and it also makes us feel better when we can serve vegetarians something that came from an animal! Also, we're fancy so it will come piled up in a little rock sculpture on an oversized plate.

Braised Double R Ranch Beef Short Rib with Sweet Water Prawn, Yukon Gold Whipped Potato, Asparagus, and Salsa Verde...


Translation: Thank god, you're a meat eater! Have some pot-roast and mashed potatoes, also piled up like a jenga game.

Flourless Chocolate Cake with Caramel, Raspberry Coulis, and Acme Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

Translation: Really, we did not buy this round little chocolate cake from Applebee's... really. See we added fancy sounding red sugar sauce to it with a mild berry taste and maybe half a scoop of ice cream.

Remember: The greater the white space around your meal, the fancier it is. This may necessitate using plates the size of a Gladiator's Shield if you can't master your stacking skills. And make sure to have something to drizzle around the white space. It could be anything - sauce, oil, WD-40, just so long as it can be drizzled damnit!