Mom's Balls

As we cleaned up last night from our petite soiree, it didn't go without notice that the buckeye balls Paris-style (as chocolate refuses to melt here) were almost finis. There's something about peanut butter (which alone was enticing enough for these legume-hungry Americans), but mixed with sugar, butter and topped off with French chocolate, it's basically a ball of bliss. I can't take credit for this heavenly invention, as I frequently whip out Anne Miller's medley of recipes, which I knew had to accompany us on our journey. No Paris kitchen is complete without a recipe card for American macaroni & cheese. Nor can I take credit for my hostess skills, and the knowledge that setting out the dishes and polishing the ice bucket the night before is a must. As I walk away from last night (or "trudge" after too many cupcakes, glasses of wine, and not enough sleep), I feel the sense of accomplishment that any good party planner should feel. The vibe was good, the compliments were plenty, and the damage was minimal. Party-planning and attention to detail is in my blood, as my mom has taught me well.

As I sit here any type, tired from a combination of late night and early rise for help at the practice round of the Paris Spelling Bee, I feel like I have represented Anne Miller well on this American Mother's Day. Successful party (with meticulous preparation and lots of prior vacuuming): check. Volunteering (and special bond with the English language): check. Ability to write a detailed list for the upcoming week: check. Mom, I hope I have made you as proud as you make me! I love you, maman.

For those of you who couldn't make it (that damn ocean always gets in the way), a few shots from last night.

Yes, these are Kraft Macaroni & Cheese shooters (compliments of my other maman!)

Micki, this is Matt's tribute to you on this Mother's Day -- he cooks as he is told to (and what you have kindly sent us)!