Dinner with friends on the upper west side of Manhattan was planned for several weeks even if the preparations were somewhat last minute. One friend helped me set the table in all of ten minutes tops, which included running around the corner and grabbing tulips for a centerpiece; purple, orange and red pulling everything together.
Poirot would have not been happy since we were 7 and not 8, but that mattered little, everyone quite cozy at a table that seats 10 with added leaves. On this evening 2 out of 3 were put into service—and I ironed the table cloth right on the table with a thick pad underneath. Such a hack that. But a good one.
Oh my, but the Prosecco flowed! As did a lovely Tabarrini rose.
It must be spring.