***Whoops… I kinda left y’all hanging for a week. But I’m still here, and (hopefully) back on a more consistent basis. I blame it on the children (not my own, but other people’s… they just drop them off in the morning and expect me to teach them how to dance in the musical theatre. Like it’s my job or something.)
Some of you may do Father’s Day. As of 2011, we do Pappapalooza. It’s very manly… Food is involved… Burping is forgiven for one day only… And I try desperately to tone down the girly decor but still retain some small vestige of party flair… It’s a good time had by all.
We had the first Pappapalooza last year at our Atlanta apartment. We actually had a sizable driveway and two grills (which is two more than we have now in NYC… womp womp). We did a barbecue for both dads (and both families). Intense. Family. Time.
It was quasi last minute, so I didn’t get to be as crafty as I would have liked, but I did make some bunting out of cardboard and twine that said “Pappapalooza.” The intended effect was manly/rustic/shabby chic, but the end result was a piece of crap. I mean, not even remotely appealing. Needless, to say I didn’t take any pictures. However, I hung it up anyway (it’s the thought that counts?) and received many a compliment from my sweet family (they love me, so they lie to me).
However, this year I resolved to do better, especially considering that I was going to be in the same state as my father. (This isn’t so different from my belated Mother’s Day party… Mamapalooza? No, that doesn’t feel right.) I turned to my mother’s endless supply of home decor/party goodness, and here’s what I ended up with:
The houndstooth tablecloth is actually my mother’s everyday tablecloth, but I like the way it looked with the Toulouse Lautrec plates (close-ups coming soon), so it didn’t make sense to use anything else.
Yeah, I know… French paintings in plate form don’t exactly scream masculinity (or at least the narrow Western view of it), but I liked the red and black and other earthy colors of the plates, so I ran with it.
(And it’s a lot less girly than the Mother’s Day luncheon that I did last week):
See? Big, frilly difference.
OK, back to the manly, earthy, black stuff. (Insert lion roar and electric guitar here.)
I found the glasses in my parents’ wet bar, and I’m pretty sure they got them back in 19forever ago. The gold beaded coasters also came from Teresa’s stash o’ supplies, along with the black napkins which I fancy-sauce folded and placed in the 19forever ago gold striped glasses (I feel so Shakespeare, making up words as I go along).
Sooo fancy-sauce. I clutch my pearls at the sight of it.
The centerpiece involved a smidgen of creativity on my part (but only a smidgen — the rest I just found by going through my mother’s things… which she loves me doing, bee-tee-dubs).
I took a multi-colored pillar candle (it matched!) and put it on a gold pedestal.
When I first put the candle on the table it was a bit meh. It needed a tray or something under it to widen the base, and though my mother has a bevvy of stuff, she didn’t have anything that would look right (and I really wanted something gold or bronze-ish).
There was a lot of head-scratching and pacing involved. After all, party decor is not an underachiever’s sport. It’s serious stuff. And I really did do my fair share of head scratching. And pacing. And the pacing led me to walk right through the foyer, where I saw this square, gold mirror hanging up on the wall. Obviously, I took that thing down and stuck it under the candle pedestal A.S.A.P.
Ahhh……. like a salve on my soul. Ok, well not quite that dramatic, but yeah, the mirror’s effect on the overall tablescape had me quite pleased.
The menu consisted of a Penne Rustica knock-off (from Macaroni Grill), sans the shrimp and prosciutto. It was goood. I’d give you the recipe, but I just put in a little of this and that. I’d also show you pictures, but I didn’t take any. (Are you surprised?) There was also bread involved — it was a potato, cheese, and chives bread with butter, garlic, and rosemary (it came from the Dekalb Farmers Market, which I’ll discuss more tomorrow).
All in all, a great time and a great way to continue the Pappapalooza tradition. And considering that prior to this meal, my father had to drive 6 1/2 hours to Atlanta, patch some dog-sized holes in their backyard fence, and replace a part on the dryer, climbing-behind-it-and-wallowing-in-dryer-lint style, I think/hope this was a great improvement to his day. (Unless the Toulouse Lautrec plates were too girly for him, which he didn’t mention at any point.)
Hope everyone else had a good Father’s Day weekend!