HOW BAD CAN THAT BE? Barefoot Contessa Potluck Sequel Proves To Be Dramatic Affair

Back in August, some of my posse convened at a friend’s house to have an Ina Garten / Barefoot Contessa potluck dinner party. The results were excellent, and if memory serves me correctly (and it does), I practically had to be wheeled out of the house as all the food was so incredibly delicious that I simply could not restrain from eating it, despite physical limitations of my stomach. It didn’t help that I gorged myself on hors d’oeuvres, and let’s not talk about how rich all the food was. My gluttony be damned, the entire dinner went off without a hitch. Tasty, easy, fun — how could we not do it again.
And so we all reconvened this weekend, but things did not go as smoothly. There was smoke. There was fire. There were broken pans. And there was dog vomit. It all led up to one question: could Ina’s food survive such adverse conditions? The results after the jump.

Unlike the last post, I was too lazy to document all the preparation that I had put into my dish for Ina Garten Potluck Sequel Night; so we’ll just begin at the dinner party itself, once again hosted by the winsome duo (now married!!) of Greg and Andrea and their two dogs (Sydney Bristow and Maggie). I should inform you that neither dog barfed on this fine evening. That honor went to the canine pet of two other friends, whose enterprising bulldog managed to sneak his way into a box of very expensive chocolates that were intended as gifts to Greg and Andrea. Needless to say, animal poison control had to be called, and our friends (along with Ina’s mouthwatering spinach gratin) were unable to attend the dinner.
Luckily, the banter and the food (and the wine) flowed liberally all evening. As did the smoke. Behold the saga.

The humble beginnings of our evening: dips, crudites, and crackers. Note the lovely centerpiece, arranged in part by Greg, who we assigned the role of Miguel (you know — Ina’s Latino friend whose sole goal in life appears to be showing up with flowers and making tables pretty).

jash assembled this lovely boat of crudites. The dip, Ina’s Sun-dried Tomato Dip, proved to be a solid accompaniment.

My first contributation: Ina’s Savory Coeur à la Crème. In French, that roughly translates to “Heart of Cream,” but alas, I had no heart mold; so really, this was more of a Blob à la Crème. Either way, DELICIOUS.

jash poses with the hors d’oeuvres and reads the latest updates about our friend’s ailing dog. The news: vomiting had been induced. Not on jash. On the dog.

More general happiness: Ina and jash. Note the way the pixelation make’s jash’s face look like Ike on South Park.

Soon jash revealed his next dish, which was supposed to be an appetizer, but we actually ate it as a side with the main: Ina’s Roasted Shrimp and Orzo. This dish not only proved to be absolutely amazing, but it also launched a feisty controversy between jash and Sly, the latter of whom declared jash’s use of Bulgarian feta as conclusive evidence that he was trying to copy her every whim (Sly is an unabashed fan of Bulgarian feta). jash insisted that Bulgarian feta was merely the cheapest variety he could find and that its inclusion bore no reflection on any aspirations —real or imagined — to be more like Sly. Sly seemed unconvinced.

Nevertheless, this dish proved to be a total superstar. Light, refreshing, and kind of amazing in general. So far so good, until….

ANDREA’S DISH. Here’s Andrea, clearly perplexed about something or another (perhaps the squabbling about Bulgarian feta). She’s stirring a gorgonzola sauce to go with her entrée: Filet of Beef with Gorgonzola Sauce.

Oh, before we get to that, here’s a pasta dish Andrea also whipped up: Pasta with Pecorino and Pepper. It doesn’t get much simpler than this: pasta, pepper, cheese, cream, but ZOMG it was tasty. Tasty, tasty, tasty. That’s right: three tasties.

Nevertheless: the steak. It had seemed like a simple enough recipe. Pat the beef dry. Spread butter and salt and pepper on top. Stick it in the oven. No problem, right? Ah, but here’s the catch. The oven had to be heated to 500 degrees. Kind of hot. As you can see, it only took about five minutes before SMOKE filled the entire kitchen.

Sly tries not to go completely batty as a chorus of smoke alarms serenade us with cacophonous beeps.

Total chaos ensues as flames erupt in the oven. It’s like this filet of beef has opened up a vortex to HELL.

Finally, it’s time to remove the meat. If you think the filet on the right looks like it’s resting on the oven rack, you’d be misguided. The beef was most certainly on a pan when it went into the oven.

Unfortunately, said pan EXPLODED mid-roast. Pampered Chef brand. To paraphrase Ina, you never know when you’re gonna get a BAD PAN.

This would explain the loud crack we heard inside the oven, which occurred coincidentally when jash happened to touch the door handle. We just assumed the appliance was merely barking at jash’s presence — not an unreasonable response.

With all the pans breaking and fires blazing, the white sauce was neglected — despite a very fervent warning that one should NEVER take one’s eyes off it, lest it bubble up like a raging volcano of gorgonzola. Sure enough, there was frothy agitation, but Greg luckily interceded before a full-on gorgonsaster could occur. He tamed the cheesy monster and surely saved the day.

Well, the meat had to sit for about twenty minutes, which was the perfect amount of time for the house to air out and the smoke alarms to settle down. In this picture, the buffet table slowly takes shape. We have jash’s orzo, as well as a “ratatouille type thing” (Sly’s wonderful description of her dish, formally known as a Vegetable Tian) and my Apple Cake Tatin for dessert.

The gorgonzola sauce, once so violent and tempestuous, now sits in a demure glass bowl. Looking quite lovely too, I might add.

Closeup of the apple cake. It’s not as brown as a tatin should be. That’s mostly because I’d never made a caramel sauce before, and I may have pulled it from the stovetop a bit too soon out of fear of a) burning the sauce, and b) burning myself. As a result, the cake didn’t take on those rich, dark hues that I had seen on google image search. Oh well. It still tasted awesome.

Another view of Sly’s tian. Here’s a shocker: it was great.

The buffet.

At last, it’s time to carve the beef. Greg does the honors (note that in real life, Ina’s friend Miguel would NEVER do this).

The meat, as you can see, was cooked PERFECTLY. When we later ate it, the beef just melted in our mouths. This was restaurant quality here. Total home run. Grand slam, even! And the biggest shock: the cut came from Ralph’s. It’s good to see that awful supermarket can do one thing right.

My plate.

Andrea and Greg marvel at Ina’s cookbook.

Greg is overwhelmed with shock when he finds out that Ina has dedicated her book to Anna Pump and not Miguel.

It’s not long before the dogs want to join the party.

Maggie seeks food from Sly, who is in a surprisingly chipper mood.

Greg holds up Sydney Bristow, or as Sly kept calling her, Sydney BARSTOW.

My plate. Demolished.

In an impromptu turn of events, Greg decided to make some homemade apple cider for us. This was NOT an Ina Garten recipe, I should note.

A little juicer action.

Sly waits intently for the cider to ready itself.

Ultimately, the evening ended with Greg and Andrea imploring Sydney Bristow to sing by repeatedly saying “Use your words! Use your words!” And yes, small noises were made.

And so another successful dinner party was had, courtesy of Ina Garten and her various recipes. Despite smoke and fire and weak pans, the food all turned out tremendously. Even better was that not everything was so rich; so I didn’t feel as though my stomach might explode with every passing step. I recommend all of the recipes, but be warned with that filet of beef. It’s a smokey, smokey mess (but oh so worth it).