(in hindsight, one probably would have been enough).
The party is over.
The popcorn leis have been tumbled into the rubbish.
The Oscar Ballots have been checked off and marked, with wins, losses – and a few stray drips of ‘Midnight in Paris’ Coq au vin.
The scoreboard is up on the window.
Tom won, again. I think I came in third. I’m trying not to get too bitter about it.
I went with my heart for Best Actor; I really thought it was George’s year.
I was wrong.
It was a small but sweet soirée. We crowded into the flat (next year I think we’ll need to find a bigger space).
We kicked it all off with the dangerous martinis and truffled ‘Moneyballs‘.
The greatest hit of the starters were the ‘Tree of Life’ riddle scotch eggs, which were suitably runny in the centre (this pleased me). NB besides the tricks of bi carb in the water when you soft boil the egg, the greatest help I found peeling still-runny eggs is having older eggs. Meditatively doing it while you catch up on some of the documentary nominees doesn’t hurt either.
I had some help plating up the Coq au Vin (this version made with diced chicken thighs instead of drumsticks- what we lost on flavour was made up for in convenience of eating with a fork out of a bowl)
(And yes, that is a very sparkly gold jumper I’m wearing. I’m my very own Oscars statue).
After the excitement of ‘Angelina’s thigh‘ we took to the dessert buffet.
Hunkering down with the chunks of oat, carrot and apple cake was our novelty model of War Horse.
Thanks for playing.