Jan. 31st, 2009 03:07 pm
Shorter and duller than I would've liked
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muckefuckSo last night was a lot more enjoyable than it had any right being. Since I had to stop by my old place for the weekly tidying, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu suggest we meet in the old hood for dinner. On a whim, I mailed Diego to invite him and his partner along. He responded by inviting us over to partake of the mushroom risotto with scallops that Uncle Betty was preparing.
We (and by that, I means "monshu") brought over a lovely white wine and some ya pears, which ended up on the dessert--a wonderfully light flourless-chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream. (By hand, since Diego is not a man of many appliances.) I got a share of grief for chopping up my second piece and mixing it with the schlag to form a sort of trifle. ("It looks like some sort of Midwestern dessert," Diego pointed out--as if that were a bad thing.)
monshu, as is usual this days, faded quite earlier, and Diego was mensh enough to tuck him into his Italian linen sheets ("from when times were flush", he noted ruefully) so the rest of us could continue visiting. It was a shame to wake him up, but some compensation was wrung from sending Diego into the bed to snuggle up to him first. They are such lovely guys, I regret not living as close to them as we once did--particularly now that tighter budgets mean less meeting out for a drink and dinner.
monshu suggest we meet in the old hood for dinner. On a whim, I mailed Diego to invite him and his partner along. He responded by inviting us over to partake of the mushroom risotto with scallops that Uncle Betty was preparing.We (and by that, I means "
monshu") brought over a lovely white wine and some ya pears, which ended up on the dessert--a wonderfully light flourless-chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream. (By hand, since Diego is not a man of many appliances.) I got a share of grief for chopping up my second piece and mixing it with the schlag to form a sort of trifle. ("It looks like some sort of Midwestern dessert," Diego pointed out--as if that were a bad thing.)monshu, as is usual this days, faded quite earlier, and Diego was mensh enough to tuck him into his Italian linen sheets ("from when times were flush", he noted ruefully) so the rest of us could continue visiting. It was a shame to wake him up, but some compensation was wrung from sending Diego into the bed to snuggle up to him first. They are such lovely guys, I regret not living as close to them as we once did--particularly now that tighter budgets mean less meeting out for a drink and dinner.