Saturday was a massive cooking day. A couple of years ago, A showed her friend R my cooking blog, and he started following it. When he heard I was visiting, he asked if I could come to his house and make a feast. (This is a little less opportunistic than it sounds – he volunteered himself, his wife K and my friend A as kitchen hands and bought all the ingredients. And provided all the wine and other drinks.)
This sounded like fun, so I said yes, and he got very excited and started inviting his friends to a feast cooked by ‘a famous Australian food blogger’, at which point I started feeling a little concerned that I wouldn’t be able to live up to the hype.
Before we left for Dresden, A and I started to plan a menu, and R promised to order us a chicken from a local farmer. A had told me that the farmer’s chickens are always huge, so I had planned to stuff it with rice and fruit and nuts and serve it with lots of different vegetable accompaniments, which I felt would be ample for the 6-7 people likely to be in attendance.
I relayed this to R, who immediately texted back ‘are you sure there will be enough food?’
Oh, R. You read this blog. You should know better.