Last night Julia and I went to a dessert party at the home of one of her friends. As the title of this post suggests, it was a celbration of a new President after 8 years of..............(insert word(s)here, there are so many).
The hostess and her sisters and mother had made some incredible desserts. I'm pretty sure I won't need to eat for several days, although I will still require coffee (mug at my side as I wrie).
A huge table was filled with desserts. All had cute names such as:
Pie we can believe in (a cherry pie that was sensational)
Yes we candy
The audacity of meringue
Dreams from my poppy (lemmon poppyseed cake)
Secretary of State balls (truffles)
Great Expectations (All American apple pie)
The mutt (marble cheesecake: black, white and loved all over; my personal faovrite)
Caribou Barbie: Half-baked Alaska, White Russian filling; a Tina Feyvorite (this dessert included the baked Alaska mounded up with a Barbie figure stuck in the top, wearing silly Sara Palin type glasses. Someone had taken the time to "style" the hair as Palin used to wear hers. The baked Alaska ended up looking like a Ball dress)
Sour Grapes: Republicans, Fox, Rush Limbaugh--the whole bunch.
The Mavericks: got whipped. Very bitter. Feel like shooting a mousse.
At this party, some people WERE wearing tuxedos. All I had were my Dockers and a large Obama button, so I didn't feel out of place.
At one point, the crowd "trapped" me against the enourmous spread of desserts for what seemed like an eternity. I was forced to eat more dessert. The horror.