Are you Elzby?

I’ve never been to my friend Wendy’s version of “Family Night” before. It’s a unique party concept: each invited guest is assigned to bring an ingredient needed to prepare a main dish. Last night’s party was Mexican Family Night and I was excited to go.

Like the theme suggests, the party’s recipes revolved around Mexican fare and the designated cook for that evening was Elzby. She was going to make, among other Mexican delicacies, the popular Posole -- a clear stew made of hominy, shredded turkey, garnished with Romaine lettuce, radishes, and oregano.

The invitation encouraged guests to arrive at 7:30 pm so that cooking could begin immediately after. Alan and I made sure we were on time. That is past my normal dinner hours so you can just imagine my eagerness to get started. By 7:45 pm, I must have greeted every single person who walked in the door with, “Are you Elzby?” Followed by a muttering of, “I’m hungry!” Though each time I was disappointed to learn it wasn’t her, my greeting made for an effective ice-breaker. I learned everybody’s names soon as they arrived.

Eight o’clock finally rolled around and alas, my hero came. A petite lady with long curly locks strolled in; carrying plastic grocery bags filled with what will soon dispel my pangs of hunger. She went straight into the kitchen as the other women guests trailed behind her. We were all ready to help make the most-awaited dish.

While the buzzing went on in the kitchen, the men were content with their favorite drinks and settled in comfortable spots in the living room area. The giant screen in front of them featured a UFC fight that kept their eyes glued to it. It was a relaxed and unpretentious social gathering.

Wendy prodded Elzby to show us how to make the appetizers. So she pulled out a tostada, which looks like a big round tortilla chip, then spread cream over it and sprinkled it with crumbled Queso fresco. She topped it with shredded Romaine lettuce and a spoonful of mild salsa verde. The result was an oh-my-god- this-is-incredible appetizer.

The ladies quickly formed an assembly line to systematically prepare the tostadas and hand them out to everyone. Apparently, I was being a perfectionist in the cheese-crumbling process. I was obsessed with making it pretty that Wendy turned to me and said, “OK, you and I need to switch places. You need to get outta there!” With swift movements, she crumbled all of the cheese and put them on top of the tostadas in seconds!

For the non-picky eaters, Elzby showed an alternative to enjoying this delicacy. She added refried beans, avocado, and chopped cactus. Either way was delicious! Some of us easily gobbled up 3 or 4 of them. Not long after serving tostadas, the much anticipated posole was ready for the taking. It was quite tasty too and I savored a bowlful. Dessert was nothing Mexican. We had yummy cupcakes from The Cupcakery and sang the happy birthday song to honor the celebrant Elzby.

But dinner was uneventful compared to the game of poker that transpired after. Six of us gathered around the dining table and the confusion that happened was just like the three jumbled decks of cards we had to start the game.

The distribution of the poker chips was a dizzying frenzy. We went three rounds in deciding which color represented what denomination. I couldn’t keep up. Much debate followed on who was the small and the big blind, and whose turn it was to raise, check, or fold. Everyone was talking at the same time about different concerns…and this was combined with some loving cursing, by the way. In the middle of the game, Alex questioned why the Joker card was being used and someone replied, “Dude, were you not listening? We agreed to substitute the missing 8 of clubs with the Joker.”

When things seemed to settle (or so I thought), I asked for a Corona. The lovely hostess Wendy obliged. Soon as she shut the fridge door, the bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label on top of it came crashing on the kitchen floor. Shards of glass and precious liquor spilled in front of the fridge. Wendy who tiptoed around with her bare feet got yelled at… by everyone…all at the same time. Danielle rushed to supply the paper towels; Phil was on his knees helping Wendy pick up broken pieces of glass; and I was next to them using the paper towels to soak up the pool of Black Label. Though Wendy succeeded in protecting her feet, she strangely managed to cut her finger. She remains puzzled about it to this day.

Meanwhile, the ladies who were still at the table wondered, “What is that awful stench?” when someone shoved the sliding door open and let in a rush of smoked fish odor wafting from the backyard.

“Doug, get the vacuum cleaner!” requested Danielle. It was the last procedure for the clean-up. “What the hell?” was his reply. Yet he sprang to his feet and succumbed to the request. And soon the mess…and chaos…were no longer. So then Danielle threw out another invitation, “Any of you [insert expletive here] wanna play poker?”


If you are interested in the recipe for posole, go to: http://www.southernnewmexico.com/Articles/Food/Posolestew-aNewMexicoholi.html