When we bring cheese or desserts to Bob's basement pub after practice, it always, every time, completely disappears. I guess I just never considered this.
Well, we do work very very hard at practice, in a physical way.
Last night, for example. Towards the end of a pretty straightforward and standard practice, with a goodly amount of dancing, we decided that we needed to prepare for this year's Midwest Morris Ale, which is being held in Colorado at an altitude of an oxygen level that is of concern. We considered just going a week early and dancing every day, but the practicalities of that plan were insurmountable. So last night. to build up our lungs, we danced our own "Mopping the Cedar" twice in a row without a break. Mopping the Cedar is one of our killer dances, even by our standards, and we dance it sparingly and always as a last dance before a long rest. At the end of the second time through (when none of us faltered, I'm proud to say, despite discomfort levels beyond the fifth level of hell, at least on my part) nearly all of us could barely breathe. At which point Douglas jumped up and said "A third time now, to practice for the ale in the Himalayas!" But he was kidding. Maybe.
So we sat in a pathetic row and breathed deeply and then after only a few seconds ironman Matt and sprightly Finkle got up and asked Bob to play a jig for them to work on, and twenty-years-younger-than-the-rest-of-us Russ got up to join them. After a couple of figures, the rest of us, one by one, joined them as well, to work on some unfamiliar steps (shufflebacks and hucklebacks). It was a great spontaneous moment, and proof positive that we have no sense.
Oh, but the food thing. Last night, by prearrangement, we went to my place after practice. This was Douglas's directive, that we go to my place, and he had also instructed me that I was to make guacamole (which I had made for the first time for our team meeting in January and which was a big hit). So I made what I thought was a huge amount of guacamole, enough to completely fill a large mixing bowl (it turns out that guacamole in that quantity is quite labor-intensive). But I wouldn't serve guests just guacamole; I had also purchased a couple of bags of good cookies (gingermen and schoolboys) and proscuitto ham and assorted cheese and I made two loaves of bread (in a bread machine, yes, but a simple recipe for french bread that works well). I filled my refrigerator with beer, of course.
I was convinced in advance that I had overdone it on the guac. But no, not by a long shot. Those boys (plus Deb, one of our musicians) consumed every ort of it, plus a few bags of tortilla chips. We unwrapped only two of the cheeses, and as I saw those disappearing I went to open up more and Douglas stopped me and noted that the team would eat me out of house and home if I let them. I replied that this would give me great pleasure, but the team stayed my hand.
There were eight people who were able to come out last night, all of whom had eaten dinner earlier I believe. We went through an entire large avocado's worth of guac per person, two giant bags of chips, half a pound of proscuitto, just under two pounds of cheese, a large loaf of bread, two bags of cookies, and 10 bottles of beer. Everything out was eaten down to the last crumb. Had I unwrapped anything else, it too would have gotten eaten, of this I am sure.
I shake my head in amazement. Next time I'll test them on cheesecakes.