What a beauuuuuuuu-tiful night

I'm sure I've mentioned to you before that my husband, Superman, is sort of a snob when it comes to all things Italian.  He corrects people when they say, "Bruschetta."  He won't let me enjoy pizza in America without reminding me how much better it is in Italy.  I sincerely doubt he could bring himself to say something like "prosciutto" without rolling the "r."  It's something I pick on him about a least once a day.

But I will say that he comes by his snobbery honestly.  The guy spent a large percentage of his childhood in Italy.  Florence to be exact.  And from his stories... I guess I really can't blame him all that much.  Loud, boisterous, Italian ladies used to cook his meals using EVERYthing from the garden out back.  He could run about town as he pleased with his best friend David... life was good.

And last night we had the treat of all treats for a Friday evening.  The aforementioned childhood best friend David, along with his mother Mona, happened to be back in the states for the month.  (They still live in Italy and direct the Harding University in Florence program along with Robbie, Mona's hubs and David's faja.)

So... as a I was saying, they contacted Superman saying they were back in town and that Mona would LOVE to come cook us a meal at our house.  Heck. YES!!  Not only does Mona cook like a true Italian... she's hopelessly hilarious.  If she possesses a filter, she chooses not to employ it.  And we love her for it.

At various points in the evening, Mona did ALL of the following:

   -wore my sunglasses during the prayer
   -explained that David shouldn't use much garlic in the pasta because neither he nor she would be able to have sex that night and, after all, it is an aphrodisiac.
   -wore my tablecloth like a shawl during the pasta course.
   -told us she nicknamed her younger son's girlfriend "boobie girl."
   -told us she makes fun of her younger son's current girlfriend because her name is "Simín."
   -told us that when Chris did surgery on her knee and she was under anesthesia, she really wanted to say the F word.

This, my friends, is Mona.  She has beautiful gray hair.  

And to describe her as merely a "character" would be a grievous injustice of description.

And as if this evening already didn't sound like the best thing you could think of... my in-laws agreed to drive in from Searcy and join us!  They spent many sweet years in Italy with Robbie, Mona, and the kids... so this was a true reunion of the Italian-elitists.  

Lots of ingredient names were said in Italian.  

Lots of bold statements were made about the mozzarella cheese here not measuring up.

And we had a GREAT time!

Warren and Suzanne are my parents-in-law.  

Suzanne is stunningly lovely, as you can see, and she is sweet at all times... while remaining real and approachable.  And Warren is also sweet but with a lively side (and by "lively" I mean... interestingly so... especially when its time for a verbal throw-down.)

And our Italian feast was truly a feast of ALL the senses.  Sight and taste and smell being the key ones.

Everyone pitched in on the preparation.  

And we ate in stages.  Weird stages.  

Antipasti first (bread and caprese.)

Then pasta... with oil, garlic, and parsley only.  Trust me, this is big.  I hear a LOT about how "gloppy" and "heavy" and "poisonous" the pasta dishes in America are.  I'm a bit defensive of my country , can you tell?  And while I happen to love the pasta here... I gotta say this pasta was kickin'.

Course 3 was salmon and green beans.

THEN came salad. ("Salad last?!"  "Like in Italy."  "Oh.")

Then dessert.  :)

My father-in-law always gets the hard jobs (like coring the apples without cutting through them) because he is super-meticulous.

Mmmmmmmmm.  Mona's a self-professed "honey freak."

Which turned out to be a VERRRY good thing.

I was in Heaven!!

I was getting to enjoy a meal where meticulous attention to ingredient quality was given the utmost importance and without hours of effort on my part!

I was surrounded by beautiful food and wonderful people.

And my hands were free to document it all.