Dinner Parties

I remember many moons ago, my parents would throw semi formal dinner parties; colleagues and bosses would be invited, there'd be a frenzy in the kitchen preparing multiple course dinners. 
A fews days previous to the party there would be discussions about the menu, and the day itself would be marked partly by excitement and partly by panic. 
We'd help clean the house, mostly by shoving all the junk under the bed or in the cupboards unreachable to any young children accompanying the adult.
Adorned in our best clothes we would spritz on some mom's imported perfumes, ready to greet our guests at the door when the bell rang. 
I distinctly remember looking forward to these parties, especially as the prized China would come out of the vitrine, the choicest matching cutlery too,  the "special occasions only" stuff. And there would be a feast.
One famous appetizer, a 'go to',  was my mom's Pot kebabs, an Anglicised version of the original turkish kebabs made in a clay pot. I didn't enjoy them as such, I wasn't a mutton fan you see, but I knew the guests loved them so I silently tolerated them. These pot kebabs would go around, and Bengali Fish Fries with the "drinks" -  I am talking about the early 90s here, so the alcohols consisted of whisky for the gentlemen and Blue Riband Gin for the ladies, with lime juice cordial of course.
I remember occasionally slipping into the female guests' shoes, the shiny ones to be precise.
Family parties used to be lunch parties slipping into afternoon tea - dinner parties were more intimate and boozy; I'd be sent to bed while the party would be in full swing, I remember lying down in bed, mom giving me a kiss reminding of school the next day or a leftover feast from that night, all the time having the feeling of me missing out on something exciting, something forbidden and exciting.
Many years later, when I got married, I thought I would inherit the adult life of my parents. I would have my husband's colleagues and their partners to dinner -  I would cook up a storm, bring out the best China. 
Took me a while to realise that things don't quite work the same way in Germany, there aren't many fancy dinners. I realised the mysteries of dinner parties for children is the view of what being grown up means, much of it is aspirational and emulating our parents.
I have, despite very different practices in this country, had some cracking dinner and cocktail parties. I have had many get-togethers with my college friends, especially when my husband was out of town for work and I'd be desperate for some company.
Today, after more than 10 years of marriage and 3 years of professional life, my husband is away at work and I have not written to a single friend to even meet for a cup of coffee - so comfortable am I am in my own laziness.
Today, as I lay in my bed with my bedroom window slightly ajar, leaving room for some cool breeze to flow in, floating in with the breeze came voices of friends laughing over the chink of cutlery on china, the clinking of wine glasses, the chit-chat of dinner parties and along with it came memories of an era gone by, an era when it was a wife's duty to entertain her husband's guests, an era when bosses and colleagues had to be pleased to maintain a good rapport for future benefits.
To an extent, these roles have melted away, but I wouldn't mind some multi course dinner served on high quality China, that aspirational bit I am still nurturing -  a party where I still keep my fancy shoes on while nursing a glass of aperitif, my head thrown back in laughter as someone cracks a joke.

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