Dinner is Served

It seems like I’ve written a lot about some of our dinner parties lately. We had a lot over the years, and believe it or not, some of them went off without a hitch. Then, of course, there are the ones that make this blog — those are actually some of the most memorable ones. Another one that came to mind today was one that really went well…. but it’s another example of how well Claire was able to handle just about any situation.

I’ve mentioned that the last year we lived in Manila, we moved into a house in the suburbs from an apartment downtown. Our house was very nice and really much too large for just the two of us. But we had a lot of parties with large groups of people. On those occasions, several of the Filipinos that worked at the embassy would help out, by serving as bartenders and serving the food, etc. They were all super nice and they had dinner at our house numerous times. In fact, they felt so much at home, that when they helped out at dinner parties, they wandered around just like part of our family.

But one night we had “dignitaries” from Washington coming to our house for dinner, and Claire wanted it to be more formal than the normal parties we had.

I should mention that our house had a  “butler’s window” — a pass-through between the kitchen and the dining room. It was a small opening I would guess about a foot and a half by 2 feet. Instead of having all our Filipino helpers wandering in and out of the kitchen like they usually did, Claire stressed that she wanted all the courses — everything — to come through the butler’s window. All the help understood and said “no problem.”

When our guests arrived, we sat in the living room talking, and having cocktails and finger food. When it was announced that “dinner is served,” we all made our way to the dining room — all the guys from work had done an amazing job of setting the table. Claire had decided she would signal when we were ready for the next course of the meal by ringing a little silver bell (really classy, and in all honesty, a little out of character for Claire.) The first course was soup, and Claire rang her little silver bell. The butler’s window opened and a large covered soup bowl came through — followed by an arm — then a foot and a leg. Then came the head and upper body, then the other foot , leg and arm. Amazingly, there wasn’t a drop of soup spilled. Claire looked at me and I looked at her — and the guests broke into spontaneous applause. 

Claire excused herself momentarily and went into the kitchen. The remaining courses came through the butler’s window — but in the “normal” manner. 
Years later a friend told me that when the “dignitaries” returned to Washington, they told everyone that dinner at our house was the highlight of their trip.
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