The Bluffton Sun - published 2/19/25
I hate to cook. And the fact I have to complete this Sisyphean task every day until I die is downright rude. I wish I enjoyed it so my children would have memories of wonderful family Sunday dinners. However, no one likes the same thing and everyone complains constantly. I hear things like: “I hate red meat.” or “Why do we always eat chicken?” and more flatteringly “Why are we eating horse food?” Feeding people teetered over into a nightly primal scream until I finally gave up trying. And, between school, sports, work, theatre - no one is ever around anyway. Someone constantly comes home hangry and then yells about the fact that there is not an all-you-can-eat buffet awaiting their arrival. Which is a really great way to end any day - I highly recommend it.
I didn’t always hate cooking. When asked to bring something to an event, I would plan for weeks to prepare the most delicious of desserts, or an appetizer that made people ask “Who brought this dish?” To which a modest “Oh, that, it was nothing” lie was replied. That is, until this one celebration.
My boyfriend informed me that we had been invited to his family’s Christmas eve party. I was nervous because this was the first time I would meet his entire family. I wanted to make sure I left an impression on them. It was time to go Full Tracy-Mode. Buckle your seatbelts, people.
I asked him what we should bring. His reply was “chips”. Chips?!? Was their party at a prison? A big fat no to the chips. Boy-to-Tracy translation - time to create a fabulous appetizer.
I had this killer recipe for a layered hummus dip that everyone always raved about. It was freshly made hummus layered with a variety of delicious ingredients, kind of like a savory birthday cake. It was so good that Matthew McConaughey might want to jump out of one during one of his late night drug-infused bongo sessions. And, because I was aiming to impress, I purchased two small flower cake molds to create the dip.. I would adorn the flowers with different scrumptious toppings and surround them with fresh basil leaves.
The day before the event I prepped all the ingredients, selecting only the most perfect ingredients like fresh basil, toasted pine nuts, and Kalamata olives. Grape tomatoes were sliced in half to make smaller flowers, and I whipped up some fresh pesto. OMG, Chef’s kiss! All that remained was to set up before we left for the party.
Now to choose an outfit.
Needless to say, all seventy-four of the outfits I tried on were completely wrong. A last minute shopping excursion was required, which meant I was behind schedule. Thank goodness I had everything ready for the food.
I grabbed the hummus flowers to arrange on a white platter; the perfect canvas for my hors d’oeuvre artwork. I carefully turned one over and gently tugged the mold to release the beauty and…nothing. Hmmm, that’s weird. A slightly rougher attempt to get it released from its metal prison, and… failure.
Oh my.
It was then I realized I neglected to line the stupid, dumb, God-forsaken flower with Saran Wrap so I could easily remove it. GAH! Breathe, Tracy. Maybe the second one will be easier?
Nope.
OH MY GOODNESS WHAT AM I GOING TO DO IT’S CHRISTMAS EVE AND EVERYTHING IS CLOSED AND WE SAID WE ARE BRINGING AN APPETIZER AND YOUR FAMILY IS GOING TO THINK I MAKE PROMISES I CANT KEEP AND HATE ME!
My boyfriend told me not to worry, assuring me he could get them out. I was trying not to panic but now we risked being late, so I agreed to let him handle it. How bad could it be, really? I headed to the car and moments later, the passenger door swung open and the tray was placed upon my lap. Two hummus boobs, complete with a small tomato in each of the centers, were staring back at me.
HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL.
I was heading to the party with complete strangers and I was bringing boobs as my appetizer. I wanted to make an impression but this was not even close to what I envisioned.
What should I do? Nothing was open at 7:00 on Christmas eve. Why didn’t I listen to the chips thing? Why did I have to try to be extra? Was it too late to jump out of the moving car? He told me to relax; that no one would even notice. He even offered to carry it in and “put all that fancy crap” around it so no one would know we brought it. I was so desperate that I foolishly believed him.
I was swept into the fun chaos of the party; introductions, wine, and a white elephant exchange. I had almost forgotten about the highly inappropriate appetizer. I was in the middle of telling a hilarious story that was guaranteed to win people over, when suddenly someone yells out “Hey! Who brought the boobs to the party?”
Mr. NoOneWillNotice loudly responds “Tracy did! Aren’t they hilarious?”
Everyone turned and stared at me. In my panic I pointed to my face and said “My eyes are up here, everyone.” and then tried to hide behind the White Elephant pile of Taco Bell sauce packets, ugly socks, and a half-chewed pack of Big League Chew. Of course everyone had comments about it. Even my future father-in-law said it was “Very mammorable.”
And that was the last time my go-to appetizer made an appearance. But, who knows? Perhaps it will resurface the next time I hope to leave a shocking first impression. Or at the very least, a “mammorable” one.
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Tracy Winslow is the owner of Low Country Shrimp and Knits - the PREMIER yarn store in the Low Country! When she is not running a small business, teaching college courses, or writing for the Bluffton Sun, she will not be found cooking, that’s for sure. If you would like to send her restaurant gift cards or support her small business so she can order in, she can be reached at www.shrimpandknits.com.