14 x 40 and the House is Still Standing

My son, Ryan, is fourteen years old. We have always called him a "social butterfly." From the time he was old enough to ask, he’s always had friends or cousins (or anyone that was willing) come over as much as possible. If he couldn’t get someone to come to our house and play, or even better spend the night, then he would hit them up to go to their house. You know the drill, "Hey, why don’t you call your Mom and ask her if I can come over?"

When Ryan was four and five years old, it would take me an extra hour to go to the grocery store. Where most kids would get a little shy when people stopped to say, "Oh, he’s so cute," Ryan would start a conversation. He would talk to them like a little adult for as long as they were willing to listen. I’m proud to say that at 14, when a lot kids are willing to talk to their friends, but don’t seek-out conversations with adults, Ryan will still sit and have a conversation with you. He’ll even talk to his dear-old Mom sometimes.

So, social butterfly that he is, Ryan has had a party for the last two years. It has now become "Ryan’s Annual End of the School Year Party." This year’s party was this past Saturday. I really never know what to expect as far as how many kids will come. But, so far, we’ve averaged between 40 and 45 kids both years. "Forty!" my friends say, "You must be brave."

"Actually," I brag, "I didn’t have one second of trouble and nothing was broken." It’s the truth. Out of all those kids, we had absolutely no arguments or fights. We have a bed upstairs (from the 1800s!) and someone hopped on it causing the slats to come out, but technically it wasn’t broken. The next day, Ryan’s friend Daniel told me that someone was throwing oreo cookies upstairs, but Ryan is in charge of clean up. The front door slammed at least 6 million times, but Roger and I eventually got used to that. I had to turn the music down a time or two, but I’m thinking that’s not much trouble for 40 teenagers. Heck, I’ve had that kind of trouble from just four!

The best part was getting to meet all the kids Ryan talks about and being able to put a face with the name. Most of the kids made a point to search me out sometime during the night to have a quick chat. A few that I know better than others would sit and have a longer conversation. Teenagers are interesting people if you give them room to talk.

But did you know they travel in packs? I guess I should have remembered that from my own teens, but this time I had the opportunity to just sit back and watch. For awhile, Roger and I sat at the kitchen table playing Gin Rummy. A pack of kids would come down from upstairs to grab some food. Next thing you know, another pack was down until eventually just about all the kids were downstairs. By then, a pack had moved outside so that, eventually, they had all moved outside. When a group decided they would go upstairs, they would soon be all upstairs dancing and playing pool again. I’m guessing this is similar to how the buffalo roam.

So, what do you feed 40 teenagers? The first year, we went all out and they didn’t eat half the food. My little family, my in-laws at the bottom of the hill, and our neighbors were eating chicken nuggets, french fries, and onion rings for days. This year, Ryan said, "Mom, let’s just do some chips and dip this year." Sounded good to me so we had Hot Tamale Dip served with corn chips and tortillas, Homemade French Onion Dip served with plain potato chips, and Avocado Dip served with purple tortilla chips. I did cook four of those "It’s not delivery" pizzas and a few chicken strips. It’s a good thing, too, because this year, they actually ate most of what I cooked. Go figure... Who can predict teenagers? And where are they when you need them?

What is Bunco?

"What IS Bunco?" I get asked that question quite frequently – mostly from men. The whole thing, I think, seems very mysterious to men. Why do all those women get together every month? What do they do while they are there? Why is there so much laughing involved?

At first glance, Bunco is a game. The rules for Bunco varies between the many, many groups around the country. Basically it is a dice game played in groups of four people. The four people at the table roll three dice for a particular number. Points are scored based on how many of that number are rolled. If you roll three of a number, you score a BUNCO. When someone at the head table gets to 21 points or the first time a BUNCO is rolled, the round ends and everyone at the table scores a "win" or a "loss" based on their score when play stops. After three rounds, the losing team moves to another table and play is resumed. There are other rules and other variations, but this gives the gist of the game.

Now that you know a little about the game, I will tell you the REAL answer to, "What is Bunco?". Bunco is an excuse — an excuse to get together with my girl friends once a month... an excuse to talk and laugh and cut-up... an excuse to get out of the house or, when my turn to host comes around, an excuse to have friends over. It seems that my friends and I are forever promising to"get together soon" or "do lunch" or "cookout sometime," but life gets in the way. We are all busy with our families and our work and the convenient time to get together just never happens.

So, on Bunco night, we all gather... to play a game, yes... to win prizes, yes... but also to catch-up on each other’s lives, to tell stories about what our children have been up to now, to brag or complain – whichever is most applicable – about our spouses or boyfriends.

For me, hosting Bunco is also an excuse to try-out new recipes on a new batch of people. Thursday night was Bunco at my house so I tested Fun Bacon Cheeseburger Roll-ups, Upside-Down Pan Pizza, Strawberry Pudding Dessert, and Almond Joy Pie. I served them with peas from last year's garden and okra and tomatoes cooked together. The test recipes were a success, and judging from my hubbies comments about the noise level (he was hiding out in the bedroom) a good time was had by all.

--Sheila

(Sheila Simmons is Publisher at Great American Cookbooks • Their newest publications Game for All Seasons Cookbook and Tennessee Hometown Cookbook will be available soon. If you are a Bunco fan, visit their Bunco website www.weplaybunco.com; there is a very convenient scorecard available for download that includes numbers across the bottom to keep-up with your score.)

Bicycles, Honeysuckle, and Supper

Do you remember Honeysuckle? I do, but until yesterday I had not thought about it in years. Roger, Ryan, Nicholas and I were enjoying a late-evening bicycle ride down the “main” (they are all country roads where we live) road beside the house. It was a warm, but not too hot, 70 degrees with a light wind – perfect for a bicycle ride.

As man of the house, Roger was out in front and yelled back with “can you smell that?” Just as I was about to ask “what,” I caught the scent, too. That aroma of honeysuckle growing beside the road brought back many, many memories at once.

I can remember being just about my youngest son’s age (Nicholas is 8) and riding my bicycle down the gravel roads around my house. I was always barefooted wearing shorts and a t-shirt and more often than not at least one of my many first cousins was riding along with me. We’d take frequent breaks to sit along the side of the road in the shade of the big trees, and, of course, taste the honeysuckle. I don’t think I’ve had a single gourmet meal in my adulthood that tasted as good as that honeysuckle did when I was eight years old.

Back in the present, Roger and Ryan had ridden ahead in a competition to see who could ride fastest. Nicholas and I were riding slow and easy, enjoying the weather, and talking about our day. Nic suddenly pulled off, dropped his bicycle in the grass, and asked, “Have you ever tried these, Momma?” as he reaches a honeysuckle bush beside the road.

It makes me happy to know that a new generation is enjoying the small pleasure of honeysuckle. So, we sat, Mother and son, in the shade of the big trees beside the road and tasted honeysuckle. I noticed that Nicholas would pick the delicate flower, break off the bottom, and suck the nectar as through a straw. This is, of course, a legitimate way to taste honeysuckle.

However, I earned a few “mommy points” by showing him the way I learned as a child. You pick the flower and gently break off the bottom keeping the little stem in the center intact. You then gently pull that stem out the bottom and the “ball” at the top brings the nectar through. When you gently touch this to your tongue, it’s honeysuckle heaven.

If you don’t know the pure and simple pleasure of honeysuckle, it’s not too late. Take your kids or grandkids (or a neighbor’s kid if you have to) on a bicycle ride (or a walk or even a car ride), locate some honeysuckle, and take time to sit beside the road and taste the sweet nectar. You won’t regret it.

We spent so much time on our bicycle ride, that I had to do a quick supper when we returned to the house. I had some catfish fillets in the freezer, so I thawed them quickly and made this Hot and Sweet Baked Catfish. We enjoyed it over rice, with corn nuggets (most of which the kids, mine and three or four neighbor boys, ate right out of the bowl while everything else was cooking), and Okra & Tomatoes (frozen, sliced okra with a can of petite-dice tomatoes, a touch of sugar, and a little thyme... and a little time). It was delightful follow-up to an enjoyable evening.

Sheila Simmons, Publisher • Great American Cookbooks • Visit our database for more great recipes. • Submit YOUR recipe to be considered for publication.