I really enjoy having friends over for dinner. I like being a hostess. I would prefer to have nicer plates & actually make a pretty table like they do on TV but have never invested in it. Regardless, I enjoy having company, planning a menu, making sure everyone has what they need, and that they are enjoying themselves.

A long time ago, in another life I like to say, I used to have friends over for dinner often. Roughly every other weekend I would have people over. One of those people was my guy. At that point in time though we were friends. We were on the verge of transitioning into where we are today.

One night I had an Italian themed dinner. I had planned a menu of parmesan encrusted chicken breasts with roasted red pepper sauce, some sort of side that I can no longer recall, and tiramisu for dessert.

I have always loved tiramisu but had never made it before that dinner party. My trusty cookbook had a recipe so I thought I would give it a go. It did not turn out pretty but tasted fantastic. As I was making it & reading the recipe, it said to cut it into thirds. I cut it into 3 pieces in the pan. Whoops. It meant cut the whole cake into thirds so that you’d have cake, filling, cake, filling, etc. I didn’t care too much. I found it more funny than anything else so decided to just keep it and have it be super tall. It would be an excellent conversation piece if anything else.

I was finishing as much prep as I could do before people arrived. They were running late which didn’t bother me cause I was running a bit behind too. I went into a cupboard to grab a mixing bowl and managed to knock out the bowl of my food processor onto the floor. I stepped back to get it & stepped on what I though was a rock. I looked and saw it was the blade of my food processor. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I had stepped on the plastic part that attaches it to the bowl or so I thought. I took a few steps to put it away and turned around & realized I was not as lucky as I thought. There was blood everywhere. The blade was so sharp (honestly it had never been used) that it had sliced my foot super clean so that I hadn’t known I had gotten cut.

I saw a roll of paper towels on the counter, grabbed it, & hit the floor putting pressure & the towels on my wound. In my head I was thinking that this couldn’t be happening. I was having friends over for dinner in a matter of minutes. This is all their fault. If they had been there they would have seen what had happened & yelled at me to not step back.

Of course I knew that it wouldn’t have really been that way. If anything I would have still stepped back & rolled on it from them trying to warn me & probably cut myself a lot worse. By the time they arrived it had been a few minutes. I was wanting to hold it tight for a bit to see if I could stop the bleeding. I didn’t know how deep it was & didn’t really want to look. I finally did & they joked that they wanted to see. I went in the bathroom & unwrapped my foot & knew that the dinner would have to go on without me as I needed to go to the ER.

I was such a good hostess though. As I was getting ready to leave I told everyone where I was in the dinner process. Where they could find all the ingredients, the recipes, & any miscellaneous items. I left. My guy (well not my guy at the time but you know what I mean) came out to watch me leave & I waived goodbye.

I ended up with 10 stitches. I had never had a stitch in my life. My first one (or ten) happened when I was almost 27 years old. I did not pay attention to my doctors advice to not drink. I actually took a shot of whiskey in the parking lot after being picked up. I lived in wright county at the time so I’m sure there was at least one other person doing the exact same thing. My friends had been having fun in the 3 hours that I spent in the ER. They managed to make dinner and saved me a plate. They waited to have the tiramisu until I got back. We hung out & I didn’t have to get up once.

That part of my life seems so long ago but it’s really only been 6 years. It’s amazing what can change in 6 years. In that time my guy and I figured out where we wanted to be in terms of our relationship. We moved to Almost Canada. We got married & just celebrated our one year anniversary. We have a whole new life.

We actually hosted an Italian night with friends we have made up here. Of course I offered to make the tiramisu. It made me remember my first tiramisu & how horribly ugly it looked. I wish I had a photo. When I told my guy I was making tiramisu for dessert all he said was… ‘make sure you cut it correctly this time.’ I guess he never forgot that evening either or at least the tiramisu.

I did make this one appropriately with the exception of doing 2 layers instead of 3 as I don’t think my knife skills are up to par to make thirds. That’s OK though. It was fun hosting. Everyone seemed to enjoy the tiramisu & I didn’t end up in the ER. I’d call that a success.