Cha-Cha-Cha

Dear loyal and faithful readers,

We hope you are still with us after a week-and-a-half hiatus. We apologize, but life calls. While we prefer to be largely irresponsible most of the time, wine isn't free, and we had to take care of business. However, we are back - with a vengeance.

(Note: during this post and possibly both previous and future posts, we may have found a wrinkle in time [which, thanks to Madeleine L'Engle was one of our favorite books in the third grade]. At this time we would also like to pay homage to James Frey and apologize to Oprah.*)

Memorial Day weekend: a time to reflect upon the sacrifice of brave Americans who paid the ultimate price for our freedom. In order to commemorate the holiday, we decided to do the most American of all activities: cook a great dinner, take a wine walk, and trespass on private property. The dinner, as you'll see below, is a delicious rip-off of a prominent seafood chain's signature dish. The wine walk occurs regularly following long hours in the kitchen: pouring wine from our classy glasses into Solo cups to walk the forested streets of Des Moines' upper-crust neighborhoods. The trespassing occurred when one of us and our esteemed guest for the evening garnered some liquid courage and thought it wise to explore the private, secret gardens of one of the largest historical mansions in the state. The third, less daring partner, remembering an event that resulted in her being handcuffed at her high school, waited at the end of the mile-long driveway, on the other side of the road, in the dark, armed only with her Solo cup, saying for the first time ever, "I learned my lesson."

So Friday we did the most American of all activities (breaking and entering), and Saturday we celebrated the diversity of our country by dining at an upscale Mexican restaurant (and ordering the cheapest thing on the menu) and attending a Salsa party. While we arrived at the private club on the 34th floor early enough for dance lessons, we opted out: after all, we have watched enough Dancing with the Stars. However, when the dancing commenced, we realized that instead of watching the TV show, we should have ordered the Zumba videos and worn our sparkly, feather-trimmed gowns...leotards...bikinis. Alas, we hijacked an already-occupied table** in the darkest corner of the room and proceeded to make fun of every single attendee. (Girl with dress-size denial and the unfortunate haircut: we sincerely apologize to you.)

However, we did end the weekend with the reds, whites, and blues: there sure was a fun band at the winery!

*We collectively hold two degrees in English.

**Purse and shoes at a table does not signify "occupied" to us - especially if they "accidentally" fall off the table.

(Our dessert for the evening: Jamaican Coconut Pie, swimming - toward America - in an ocean of rum. It was most likely this, not the several bottles of wine, that made for a rough Sunday.)