A few weeks ago I attended the baby shower of my younger cousin, staged at her fiance's mother's house. The event was fairly extravagant, with full catering by an authentic Mexican cuisine locale. To appease those with less authentic tastes, the catering unit had several dozen Oscar Meyer wieners in a roasting pan alongside some buns. After consuming one of every variety of carne taco, Sabrina, as children tend to do, spotted the less refined hot dogs and demanded one. We got back into line, myself meagerly offering an apology and a "She just wants a hot dog" to all of the judging eyes who had already watched us heap food on a plate once before.
At long last the man behind the chafing dishes handed us a hot dog, okay two hot dogs, with a bemused grin and we proceeded to the end of the table where condiments stood on display. Failing to locate the ketchup, I wandered into the house of a stranger until I spotted a woman I recognized as one of the hosts, and inquired if there was ketchup in the kitchen. Frazzled, she threw the refrigerator doors open, and with an exasperated sigh asked her husband to run to the corner store. Though I was adamant the day would not be ruined if ketchup was not found, this matriarch wandered over to her kitchen counters and began throwing up drawers until she found 'the' drawer.
As this affluent, somewhat snobbish, individual pawed through a drawer full of leftover condiment packets and sealed fast food utensils I found myself grinning inside. Here I was so terribly out of my element, only knowing 4 guests among 200, and it seemed we were not such strangers after all. Does everyone have a drawer like this? She frantically piled packets of ketchup from every major fast food chain in my hand, and sent me on my way, back out to the patio. A hot dog, or maybe two, was saved in that instant, but I also found a bit of sanity that day too.
What Daughter Says: I'll still be keeping my secret stash in order....but I'm grateful to have my secret ingredient in slightly larger portions.