Here is what I have assembled for my New Year’s Eve Party of One:
Some fancy-ass chicken-and-sundried-tomato whole wheat ravioli from the refrigerator section of the grocery store.
Some marinara sauce to go on the pasta.
Some fancy French cheese spread (two for one at Publix): some peppery stuff and some garlic-with-herbs flavored.
A small plastic container of olive tapenade (fancy word for olive spread).
A tin of sardines in mustard and dill sauce, for more of that authentic cocktail hour ambience.
Some crackly bread stuff (sesame) for the cheese and the olive spread and the sardines.
Whole wheat bread to make toast points for the same.
Some red grapes. (I like grapes.)
A can of mixed nuts.
Drink, from the liquor store:
An Australian sparkling wine, extra dry, because I like my champagne sweet.
Dry vermouth and a small flask of Tanqueray gin because I am going to make myself a martini. I don’t have olives, but I do have little pickled onions. I also bought one champagne flute and one martini glass.
If I don’t collapse in a drunken heap I’ll fire up the Precious and post my impressions of New Year’s Eve teevee. I know you can’t wait!
Update 7:23pm: I am now sipping the martini and noshing on my inedible edibles. Verdict on the martini: vile, yet somehow compelling. I used to drink Tom Collinses and Gin and Tonics but never noticed that gin smells like a Christmas tree. The juniper, I guess. I could get to like this stuff. The snacks — the sardines, cheese, tapenade — are just right for this kind of bizarre taste combination.
The irritating neighbors are already setting off fireworks. Oh joy. I can remember when fireworks were illegal — to sell, anyway — in Florida, so people had to drive all the way to Georgia to buy them. This generally meant you didn’t hear or see fireworks except on the 4th of July. Now they sell them in the grocery store, and people use them for all occasions: Christmas, birthdays, boredom.
Good God, I’m watching The Lawrence Welk Show. This is a bit more retro than I can stand yet.
Forgot to mention: I made the martini stirred, not shaken. (I copied what I saw a bartender do on the Fine Living Channel.)