“Long time no post,” says my husband/the only person I’ve shared this blog with, thus far. And he’s right. Turns out it’s been exactly one month since my last post and while I have been busy juggling the fluctuating schedules of three vagabonds of summer, there is more to it. I have found it relatively easy to find my voice, yet I still haven’t figured out why I am blogging or to whom I am blogging. I need a purpose, an expertise.
What immediately comes to mind is entertaining. Ever since I got my first New York City apartment, I have loved entertaining. The apartment was really only good for entertaining–nothing else–and maybe that’s how I fell into it. When I started my search I was looking for:
1. a place I could afford without a roommate;
2. a studio (it was a given that that was all I could afford) where I could have a couch and a bed;
3. ideally, to remain on the Lower East Side–or at least somewhere below 14th Street (this was the early 90’s so I can proudly claim to have been somewhat on the cutting edge).
I ended up in a studio (got that right) on the Upper West Side, with only enough room for a futon that served as both my couch and my bed. Each morning, I stored my bedding in the coffee table which was a toy chest from my childhood. But it was what wasn’t on my checklist that sold me on the place. It had a patio! And when I say patio, I mean a real, full-fledged patio, not some 2’x4′ balcony where you can barely sit to sip a cup of coffee (I have one of those now). The apartment was on the second floor of a two story building and I had a brick-walled patio, the size of my studio, overlooking the courtyard. It was quiet, private…a hidden treasure. I could be outside, at home in New York City. I ate breakfast in my pajamas while enjoying the morning sun. I sipped many glasses of wine at the end of the night while gazing up at the city sky. And, I entertained! My friends loved to come for happy hour, or to “pre-party” before heading out at 10pm. I loved to serve Sunday brunch that would spill into dinner and host cocktail parties that would test the structural integrity of the patio (thankfully, no incidents to report).
Entertaining offered an opportunity to explore. There were foods to discover (the world of cheese led to a series of parties unto themselves), traditions to revisit (why not make “breaking the fast” a fun time with enough Zabar’s & H&H bagels to feed an army), and cultures to tap into (who knew the delights of Chinese New Year?).
I can credit that little studio on 79th between Amsterdam & Broadway for nurturing my love of entertaining. And of course, holding a job as an event planner for some glossy magazines didn’t hurt. Now, I can confidently say that I am quite good at hosting pretty much any event. Food is generally my focus but mood–decor, music, setting, flow–definitely come into play. So from here on, I am going to make Entertaining at Home the focus of Musings of a Sly Rooster. I may digress now and then but I also may even work up the courage to tell a few friends where they can find me. At the very least, they deserve to read about the parties they’ve attended or those they may have missed…stay tuned.