It's been a while since my last Fourth of July party. I used to host them every year, but the event grew out of control as I felt compelled to invite everyone I knew, numbers crept into the stratosphere, I spent a fortune and had to hire help to run the thing. After a six-year hiatus, and confined by a cottage that limits party numbers to a maximum of about 20, it was time to return to holiday party giving. After all, with the Fourth falling on a Saturday, how could I resist?
First thing in the morning, I decked the house in full patriotic regalia. Which must have been quite a thrill for all those Americans who were, no doubt, on many the Windsor tour buses that run outside my windows all day. Sitting room and garden sported flags, streamers and decorative geegaws, many of which had been in storage since my patriotic entertaining heyday. (The best is my dancing Uncle Sam, who is so amusing he stays in my bathroom window all year long.)Only two Americans, besides myself, attended. The rest were Brits, charmed and excited to be part of the foreign rituals. Don't scoff ... how excited would you be if a Frenchman invited you to a proper Bastille Day party, or an Australian invited you 'round for Anzac Day? The piquancy is in the novelty, not in the actual event. It is always amusing to see what people enjoy. What's the favourite dish? What's too exotic to be tried?
Unsurprisingly, the iced tea wasn't touched. That adulteration of a national staple seems a bridge too far for most Brits. Or maybe it was just that nobody was interested in stimulants as mild as caffeine when alcohol was on offer. (The morning-after bottle count: 15 white wine, 4 red, more than 45 beers. 21 people.) The boxes of Cracker Jack didn't get much traffic, and my one healthy salad option ... cucumber, roast tomato and mozzarella pearls in a light vinaigrette ... was barely touched.
The Velveeta queso dip, however, was greeted with amazement and delight. Good thing nobody saw the box with the "pasteurized cheese product" label it started in. The crowd wiped out my baked beans. Never a surprise, considering that most Brits never bother doing anything to them but pouring them out of the tin. I went for two versions of coleslaw: Memphis-style, a mustard-based version off marthastewart.com and my own copy of the cranberry and apple-spiked version served at Missouri's Chandler Hill Winery. Clearly, my friends have been here enough to know to always come to my house hungry. Thus they powered through the majority of four pounds worth of Ball Park Franks and 30 jumbo burgers. People here aren't used to burgers with much more than straight beef in them, so mine ... doctored with a mix of Ro-tel, A1 sauce, bread crumbs, eggs and my secret spice mixture ... won many kudos. Call it simple, even call it white trash, but sometimes you just can't beat a basic barbecue.
My trivia quiz proved far too hard, showing once again that my idea of "general knowledge" bears little resemblance to reality. I must, however, go on record with shock and amazement that not a single Brit attending the party was even aware of the existence of the War of 1812. They've only fought two wars against us, for Pete's sake, and they managed to burn Washington in that one. You'd think that would figure in the curriculum someplace. Anyway ... congratulations to Suzy Christopher for combining her own knowledge with a dogged pursuit of the Americans at the party to get 18 of 20 answers. Thus winning the finest American flag baseball cap Wal-Mart had to offer. Hey, this was a classy gig! (Scroll to bottom for answers to quiz.)
For this American, the highlight of the evening had to be the fireworks. What's legal in this country is quite astonishing compared to what you can lay your hands on in the States. Just four fireworks and a handful of rockets were all we needed for a display that looked properly professional. Consider that the rockets created smaller versions of the bursts you see in big civic shows, and those individual fireworks were multi-shot arrays, the largest sending 180 fountains of sound and colour out of just one box. My lovely next-door neighbours earned my undying gratitude by lending us their garden for the critical 30 minutes of pyrotechnics, avoiding the near crisis I encountered when the fireworks vendor told me it was illegal to use fireworks in public parks. So much for the original riverside plan.
Hopefully we did not keep those lovely neighbours up as the action continued into the wee hours. I at least managed to move the late-stayers indoors before we rolled into the Bruce Springsteen karaoke. Then again, perhaps hearing my beautiful rendition of "Born to Run" would have been an appropriate thank you?
Having done my bit for trans-Atlantic relations, I hit my pillow at 3am, and was back up at 9 to clean up a prodigious mess. The ambassador really should give me a medal. Or maybe an invitation to the embassy's famous 4th of July party next year.
Bet they don't have any Velveeta there, though. We know where the real party is.
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TRIVIA QUIZ ANSWERS
1. Two 2. Chicago 3. Tamales 4. Gary, Indiana 5. Basketball, Cleveland Cavaliers 6. War of 1812 7. Bears 8. Minnesota 9. The Colorado River 10. Michigan 11. St. Augustine, Florida 12. Jellystone Park 13. Marines 14. LL Bean 15. Mt. Rushmore 16. The United Nations 17. Coca Cola 18. Philadelphia 19. Composer of patriotic music 20. Baseball Hall of Fame
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