My Imaginary French Dinner

Heat and several nights of work in a row have temporarily derailed the grandiose summer cooking plans, but what's really hanging me up is this: the next two recipes in a row provide the framework for a lovely, delicious, intimate French dinner party with fresh seasonal ingredients, and there is no configuration of guests in my life to whom this meal can be served. The recipes I want to cook are: a warm goat-cheese salad with fresh greens; and a cherry clafoutis. I have a great Provencal tomato tart recipe that would serve as the main dish for this hypothetical menu, which remains, alas, solely in my imagination. It would be a great meal to serve to four adults without kids. Who might these adults be? One possibility would be to cook this food for myself, husband and two kids, with the result being two plates of uneaten salad (the kids') and my ending the dinner feeling (1) like I had just busted my arse for very little gratification and no good reason, and (2) intensely depressed. The special brand of depression I reserve for recipes that flop or are insufficiently appreciated. Another scenario involves inviting a childless couple over to consume this meal after the kids go to bed. But we don't know any of these. Having kids has this affect on one's social life: your friends are entire families, not individuals or couples. The last possibility is to invite a family and serve the "nice" food to the grownups and make macaroni for the kids to eat. I can't put my finger on precisely why this seems not-fun to me. The public and official abandonment of my childrens' potential to eat adventurous food? The specter of a pot of Kraft mac bubbling on the stove while my tart bakes beneath it in the oven only a foot away? The macaroni silently making a mockery of my fancy cooking? Feh. Stay tuned for the solution to this dire and globally-significant dilemma.