The First Class

So, about last night...

...it was fantastic.

It really was completely and utterly fantastic.

First, Vicki was an amazing host. She made sure I had the oven on the right temperature. She made sure everyone had a refreshing beverage. And she even made sure that everyone listened to me when I had something really important to say about cookie dough.

She was a rock star.

For those of you who were wondering or praying or pacing the floors, rest assure that not one person or building burned to the ground. In fact, it was as smooth as I could have possibly hoped it to be. And most of that has to do with a really fun, really excited, really talkative group of women!

If you really want to know, I found myself very nervous yesterday. I kept second-guessing my recipes and my timing and my one-liners. At the last minute, I printed off some ghetto business cards just in case someone needed to contact me...hopefully to book another class, not because of food poisoning.

And I admit that there were moments when I screamed"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!" inside of my head as I stood in front of them.  But thankfully those screams were drowned out by continuous Christmas music and discussions on salted vs. unsalted butter. I am in the unsalted camp, myself.

Somehow, someway, it all worked. And people had fun. And I felt like I could do this forever, especially if exotic places that required my passport were involved.

Most of the women admitted that they didn't cook or bake, one even told me that she is an expert at the drive-thru. But when I asked for volunteers for every recipe, they jumped at the chance to try it out. I was really thankful for an engaged, responsive crowd. And in the end, they each walked home with a dozen cookies and a box full of hand-made truffles. Oh, and we devoured the peppermint roll too.

Some of them even asked if I could teach a class on appetizers, and I said, "Um, yes. I am from Oklahoma where appetizers are their own food group and Velveeta is like a member of the family."

Afterward, once I had washed the chocolate from beneath my fingernails and had slithered my way up the stairs and into bed, my first thought was, "I survived."

And my second thought was, "When can I do this again?!"

I would say it was a very good evening.