My four white walls have now welcomed their first guests: the attendees of a little tea party. I planned it with the help of an enthusiastic and imaginative four-year-old, whose desired menu included cocoa, cake, and cookies. (My eyes roll back in my head just imagining the after-sugar pain that would induce.) So we compromised. We left out the cake. In its place we substituted some healthy fruit…by which I mean chocolate covered strawberries. Nutritionists everywhere should be proud.
Below is the table set for company, cookies and everything. I wrapped the surface in parcel paper and provided crayons so the kids could expend a little of their sugar-induced energy after we ate. I cut out their masterpieces for them to tote home afterward.
The sad part of this story is that I got so wrapped up in hostessing that I didn’t take any photos of our little party in progress. I’ll just tell you about the set-up. First, want to hear about cookies? (Did any of you really answer “no?”)
Didn’t think so. I don’t usually make sugar cookies–I’m more of a chocolate-chip girl myself–so I don’t have a standby recipe. The recipe I used this time came from here. I liked it so much that I bookmarked the link and I’m thinking of printing it out for my three-ring-binder recipe book. (I learned with my favorite pizza dough recipe that printing is the only assurance of future reference; it’s a slippery place, that internet.)
But why, you may be wondering, might this cookie recipe warrant future use? Mmmm, let me tell you. The cookies were a bit crisp, but still soft enough that they didn’t actually crunch or, what’s worse, crumble–I avoid crumby cookies. They made the apartment smell buttery-delicious. And did I mention there were five dozen of them? Plenty for a hubby with a sweet tooth and some for guests besides. (You think I’m kidding.)
So cookies starred: each of us frosted our own and added sprinkles to our hearts’ content. While decorating we sat in spur-of-the-moment-decorated chairs. The day before the tea party, when I first surveyed the laid-out table, it looked a bit lackluster to me. So into the closet I dove, surfacing with a fistful of scarves that I normally knot at the nape of my neck to create hairbands. I ironed out the wrinkles, then looped and knotted my way to mismatched chair bows.
The girls picked their seats based on which bow they liked. Of course after that I’m sure they forgot all about their chairs. Who wouldn’t, with the chance to have cookies and cocoa for dinner?