I was talking to my friend C. on Thanksgiving day, and somehow the subject of entertaining in general came up. I said to her that I’m very much an old-fashioned hostess. As I mentioned in my last post, my mother taught me that inviting people to my house meant I had to provide all the food, and not just on Thanksgiving. The very idea of a potluck can send her into an apoplectic fit. This attitude, like many of my mother’s, stuck with me.

When I started having parties in my early 20s, I provided all the food, soft drinks, beer and wine. Guests only had to bring their own liquor. Needless to say, I went through a huge adjustment when I moved down south. Suddenly, I was expected to provide not just food, but my own beer. Where was the southern hospitality I had heard so much about? It seemed rude to me, especially when the party was being thrown by someone I didn’t know well. Really? You’re inviting me to your house for the first time, and I have to feed myself and provide my own party buzz?

I tried to provide everything for the first few parties I threw here, but my friends insisted on helping. I finally just gave in to it, because it’s a silly fight. Who is crazy enough to turn down great food? It’s part of the ritual now for big parties. When I have a small dinner party, I still make all the food, although guests automatically bring wine.

The subject came up again this morning with my friend B. We decided that treating all parties as potlucks isn’t so much regional as it is generational. All of my friends are younger than I am. Some are Gen Xers. Others are young enough to be my kids. More than a couple think I’m a bit stringent with my need to be so organized. They’re all just more relaxed than I am about entertaining.

As I sit here writing this, I’m still contemplating exactly what the difference is. Is it generational? Is it just an age difference? My youngest friends are happy with partying like they’re still in college – no food, lots of alcohol. I’m acquainted with people in their 30s who still party that way. But when I was in my early 20s, there was a ton of food at my parties. B. said it was the same when she was younger – lots of food to help soak up the alcohol.

Besides the food issue, there’s been a general slackening of traditional etiquette. It’s harder to get people to commit these days. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing that day.” Well, if you say yes to my invitation, then you’ll know. Why is that hard? I’m not talking about someone who might have to work or whose mother might be coming to town, or someone who could be giving birth. I’m talking about someone who is obviously waiting for something better to come along. Geez, just make something up. There’s no reason to be so rude that your friends feel expendable.

I questioned above whether it was an age or a generational difference. By that I meant, is it age in and of itself, or is it that the generations behind B. and me were raised with less emphasis on etiquette? Or is it something else entirely?

I’m a fan of etiquette. I love its basic premise, which is to make everyone feel comfortable. Here’s the thing though. Among my youngest friends, no one thinks it’s rude to talk on the phone while everyone else is eating, show up an hour late for dinner or bring their dogs to each and every party they have. They all do it. So are they actually breaking any rules of etiquette?

The problems arise if they behave that way outside their own group. I’ve yet to see any of my youngest friends do anything so outrageous that I wouldn’t want them in my house. It’s my acquaintances in their 30s – the ones who still party like they’re 22 –I’ve had the most trouble with. Notice I don’t call them friends. They’ve been to precisely one of my parties, and treated my house, as B. said, “like it’s a bar.” They ignored me and the other guests, and smoked pot in the house without asking if it was OK. Yeah, they don’t get invited back.

So I guess it’s generational, but only sort of. It could be about age, but not entirely. I know people my own age and older – baby boomers – who will probably misbehave at their own funerals. I’ve had people crash my parties and not bother to find out whose party it is, and I’ve discovered people fighting in my bedroom (breaking two of my four cardinal party rules). But I’ve also had friends who were drunk off their asses and still insisted on helping with the clean up (closely monitored, of course, and no sharp objects). I’ve seen hosts who earn twice as much money as their guests make everyone chip in for pizza, and friends who are totally broke bring wonderful food to a dinner.

I figure it’s this way. Some people will always be boors, no matter how old they are or how much money they make. Others will grow up to be great company fit to meet the Queen. It’s probably all about how your mama raised you.

Maybe there’s a new etiquette. One whose only rule about forks is that you use one when you’re eating mashed potatoes. It’s about knowing your audience and understanding your limits. I kind of like that.

But, if I invite you to my house, please let me know if you’ll be there.

I feel kind of bad that I didn't like Voodoo Doughnuts as much as I believed I would. I also feel bad because part of me feels as if I insulted a vaunted Portland institution, akin to to going to Paris and saying "The Eiffel Tower? Meh, not so much."

So let me tell you of something I did like. No, not liked...loved.

Again, for new readers here at Accidental Hedonist, I have an unnatural passion for breakfast. Given the choice between having a great breakfast or having a great dinner, I'd go with breakfast every time. I enjoy finding restaurants who provide new twists and takes on breakfast that go beyond the typical Omelet/Frittata/Pancake standards one usually finds.

So imagine my joy in finding a place in Portland that serves a Scandanavian style breakfast. That place is Broder.

Rather than try to give a blow by blow account of Tara and my experience, let us go rather to the evidence.

These puppies are known as Aebleskiver, also called danish pancakes. They are about the size of a biscuit, but so light and airy that one that they nearly float. Calling these pancakes is an insult, because pancakes could only wish to be this good.

As an added bonus, these are served with syrup, ligonberry jam, and LEMON CURD! I nearly wept with joy when these were served.

Tara had the Trout Pytt I Panna, essentially trout hash, which had the added benefit of actually tasting like trout, rather than potatoes with essence of trout. Too often I've seen restaurants go heavy handed on their potatoes for their hash. Not here at Broder.

Added benefit - those eggs? Baked, not fried. Do you know who else does that? Nobody I'm aware of, at least here in Seattle.

Finally, I had a tart with egg, bacon and carmelized onion. It looks like a quiche, I'll grant you. But they were so light and fluffy, that I could have sworn that they mixed egg yolks into egg whites in order to get this texture.

Both Tara and I agreed that this Broder was the highlight of our trip. I can't recommend this place enough.

Broder
2508 SE Clinton St.
Portland, OR 97255
(503) 736-3333

These puppies are known as Aebleskiver, also called danish pancakes. They are about the size of a biscuit, but so light and airy that one that they nearly float. Calling these pancakes is an insult, because pancakes could only wish to be this good.

As an added bonus, these are served with syrup, ligonberry jam, and LEMON CURD! I nearly wept with joy when these were served.

Tara had the Trout Pytt I Panna, essentially trout hash, which had the added benefit of actually tasting like trout, rather than potatoes with essence of trout. Too often I've seen restaurants go heavy handed on their potatoes for their hash. Not here at Broder.

Added benefit - those eggs? Baked, not fried. Do you know who else does that? Nobody I'm aware of, at least here in Seattle.

Finally, I had a tart with egg, bacon and carmelized onion. It looks like a quiche, I'll grant you. But they were so light and fluffy, that I could have sworn that they mixed egg yolks into egg whites in order to get this texture.

Both Tara and I agreed that this Broder was the highlight of our trip. I can't recommend this place enough.

Broder
2508 SE Clinton St.
Portland, OR 97255
(503) 736-3333

Well, okay, the author of From Nose to Tail hasn't actually set up shop, nor has he visited lately, for all I know.

But I have noticed that in the course of the last three months, I have come across five different restaurants who have put veal sweetbreads on the menu, including an oyster house that we used to frequent. When fads hit up here in the upper left of North America, they apparently hit hard.

Sweet Treats

I hope everyone here in the United States had a great Thanksgiving holiday. I still can't believe that we have only 3 weeks until Christmas and then 2008 is over. Is it just me, or does that whole Y2K mess seem like last year?

This week begins a month of desserts, with today's focus on pumpkin sweets. As always if you have a favorite recipe please post (or link) it in the comments. Also, if you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see in the next few weeks let me know. I plan on researching vegan cookies and chocolate pies, but I am open to suggestions!

Below are the best recipes I could find for vegan pumpkin sweets. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Pies

Vegan Pumpkin Pie

Pumpkin Pie with Dairy-Free Maple Whip

Chocolate Pumpkin Pie

Tofu Pumpkin Pie

Double-Layer Pumpkin Cheesecake

Pumpkin Pie Brownie

Cakes

Pumpkin Coconut Loaf Cake

Vegan Pumpkin Cupcakes

Pumpkin Beer Cupcakes

Pumpkin Raisin Muffins

Gluten-Free

GF Vegan Pumpkin Pie

GF Pumpkin Pie

GF Pumpkin Raisin Cake

GF Pumpkin Swirl Brownies

GF Pumpkin Custard

Miscellaneous Pumpkin Treats

Vegan Pumpkin Fudge

Pumpkin Oatmeal (use soymilk and margarine)

Pumpkin Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

Maple Pumpkin Butter

Pumpkin Spice Doughnuts

Thanks to Flickr user kd bug for the photo below.

See you next week!

. . . . .

Now Playing: Live in Boston by Fleetwood Mac.

I'm not much of a breakfast eater, but I don't mind the occasional brunch-style pancake or syrup-slathered slice of French toast. Add a bit of booze and it makes getting up worth while.

Since I've been doing some research into cheese, I thought I'd try combining this dairy with an old favorite. As luck would have it, I found a recipe for cream cheese stuffed French toast. And it requires a splash of liqueur. How perfect is that?

Although the creators intended this dish for a July Breakfast at Wimbledon Party, I think it's the perfect reward for an early morning snow shoveling session.

It's been snowing a lot. I've earned it.

Since apricots aren't in season, I didn't garnish my toast with them. Instead, I added extra maple syrup. Despite the weather outside, the summery preserves and the touch of orange liqueur made a cold winter morning fade away -- just for a few minutes.

The concept behind this dish is very flexible and the authors encourage experimentation. Try black currant preserves and Cassis, raspberry jam and Framboise, or apple jelly and spiced rum. Swap cinnamon for nutmeg if you feel inclined.

Although it's fancier than ordinary French toast, it doesn't take that much longer to make. So if you're feeling indulgent, go stuff it!

Apricot-Stuffed French Toast
This recipe is from the deliciously irreverent book Entertaining with Booze, by Ryan Jennings & David Steele. Published by Whitecap.

Raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, or any other fruit you can think of, can be substituted if apricots aren't your thing -- their fuzzy wee skins, hard stones and sweet dispositions can be very offensive -- we know.

8 oz (250 g) package cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup ( 125 mL) apricot preserves
1 Tbsp (15 mL)Grand Marnier or Cointreau
1/2 tsp (2 mL)ground nutmeg
six 2-inch (5 cm) thick slices of French bread
3 eggs
2/3 cup (150 mL)milk
2 tsp (10 mL) vanilla extract
1/4 cup (50 mL)butter, divided in 2
2 cups (500 mL) sliced fresh apricots, optional

Instructions
Preheat over to 200F (95C).

Beat the cream cheese, preserves, Grand Marnier and nutmeg together in a medium bowl until smooth. Cut a pocket into each slice of bread by making an incision along the edge and cutting into the slice without going all the way through. Divide the cream cheese mixture evenly between the bread slices and spoon into the pockets. Set aside.

Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs, milk and vanilla in a clean bowl until just blended. Dip each sandwich into this egg mixture, turning to coat but without soaking it through.

Melt half the butter in a large frying pan over medium heat. Cook half the sandwiches until golden, about 2 minutes per side. Place on an oven-proof platter and keep warm in the oven. Repeat with the remaining sandwiches. Top each serving with sliced apricots (if using) and serve with pure maple syrup.