Robbie Burns: Part III

I had invited my guests carefully. I had tried to choose those who got along and more importantly, those who liked haggis. The table was balanced, until one of my girl friends could not come. The table was now heavily weighted towards the male contingent.

I had a conversation recently with a girl friend about the male appetite and how easily we underestimate it. Women, it seems, don't really eat all that much. We tend to graze through-out the day. This is why we can always say "oh, I'm not really all that hungry," and then eat a salad for dinner. We've been eating all day. Therefore, our first instinct when cooking for others is to take the amount that we would eat, multiple it by the number of people coming and then add a bit. But it's never enough. If an invitee is a male who is cooking for himself, then the problem becomes amplified.

I had what I thought was lots of food. I was convinced I was going to be eating leftovers for weeks to come. I had more root vegetables than I could physically cook. The haggis was a large one. There were triffle and cookies. But my guests were predominately males who all enjoy their food. I think on average they all had three helpings. There wasn't much of anything left. I was flabbergasted. My grandmother had always told me that a good hostess has lots of everything out as leftovers can always be put away, but it's pretty hard to produce more food.

At first I was pleased. Yes, they like it and then I started to panic. Guests aren't supposed to go home hungry and they were still giving each other more helpings. Maybe they hadn't remembered desert because when the rest of the courses arrived, they started to look a little green around the gills.

Recovering on the couches, discussion swirled around various topics of conversation as we swirled various types of whiskey in our glasses. And then all of sudden, the males jumped up, clapped their hands and proclaimed, "We can't leave you with this mess, " and rushed into the kitchen. There were more of them trying to help then there were jobs for them to do and the ones who had found something to do weren't going to share with those who hadn't. I was stunned. Guests weren't supposed to attack your kitchen and clean it up. I protested and was evicted. I was allowed back when they realised they didn't know where everything went. I think the kitchen was cleaner when they left then when they had arrived.

They'll all be invited back. Next time, I'll increase the muliplier and add factors. I'm pretty sure, next time they'll leave room for dessert.