I am not a cook. I like to say that I am pretty good at assembly—meaning that I can put together a delicious meal. I start with an entree from Dinner by Design or Entree Kitchen. Then I buy a yummy Corner Bakery salad and put it into my own bowl, some bread from Panera and a cake from Portillos on a pretty cake plate and set a nice table and we are good to go.
When preparing food means using a recipe, I get a little nervous. During Christmas, however, it is worth the risk to use a few recipes. One weekend in particular I used many recipes. I cooked on Friday, Saturday and Sunday--twice. I used Lou's corn pudding recipe, of course, which is not intimidating because I have made that lots of times. But I called Bev and got her recipe for Foolproof Sirloin Tip roast, Cindy's twice baked potatoes, Ellen's baked asparagus, Nancy's Bing Cherry and Cream Cheese Balls salad, Margits Lettuce/Apple Salad, Lou's Egg Casserole . . . that might be all but still that was a lot for me.
So Sunday morning, I told Bob, "I am so Julia Childs this weekend, that I am wearing pearls all day today."
When I got to church carrying two casseroles, I decided to take the elevator to our classroom. Just inside the elevator, somehow, I dropped one casserole. It went on the floor and up the sides and even splattered on a few buttons.
It was a good thing that I was wearing my pearls because I remembered that Julia would have said, "I'm glad that happened. . . " And that made me smile.
I could also smile because I don't know how or why but none of the casserole spilled on me.
I could also joyfully smile because though I fumbled a bit, I kept the other casserole from the same demise.
Another blessed coincidence is that I was the only person in the elevator.
I had brought two serving spoons so as the elevator opened on the next floor, I was on my knees spooning casserole back into my Pyrex. A dear person ready to ride the elevator, instead ran to get some paper towels for me. The elevator moved before she returned but as I was still in that prone position when the elevator returned to that floor, I could easily grab the large stack of paper towels sitting just outside the closing door.
On my third or fourth ride on the elevator, I was standing nicely composed holding my one remaining casserole as about six people joined me on the elevator. Several remarked, "It smells really good in this elevator." I could smile again.