Successful dinner party

This kitchen has always got the better of me. I have tried many, many times before to cook dinner, bake desserts, whatever – and I always ended up frantic on the phone to my mother asking what to do and wondering why the damn metric system had to be so goddam different than the one I was raised on.

But not tonight!

I called before Tony dropped me back at the house to make sure no one was here. Alberte answered, and I asked her as cautiously as I could. “No, Ludo arrives tomorrow; Sylvia leaves today.”

“Then tonight, I have my friends for dinner.”

We passed Sylvia as we mounted the hill. Tony had to work, so while he did his thing and Maria and Carol prepped to come over, I made only one frantic phone call to the States and made dinner.

It was a tremendous success.

We had salmon with peach salsa – all of which came out perfectly. We also had potatoes, green salad, homemade dressing. We sat, we drank, we talked, we stared at the view, and later, as the night fell, we watched stars fall from the sky.

It was perfect.

And for me, successfully having made dinner means that I have finally – FINALLY – adapted to life here.