An Ideal Shabbos

I've always thought that when it comes to some things I'm rather mellow (to others, I'm a friggin' nutcase). Like hosting guests for Shabbos. I'm the first one to say that people just want to enjoy the company of other people, and don't give a hoot about the food. 

But in actuality, I obsess over the menu. For days beforehand, my dreams are haunted by warring sidedishes: quinoa vs. roasted veggies vs. kugel. Do I need to make fish? Should I make chicken legs or chicken cutlets? Legs taste better but are messier to eat. Should I just stick to the white meat? Should I make individual lava cakes in ramekins or just plate a square of brownie? Do I have enough Trader Joe's pareve ice cream?

Obviously, hosting stresses me out so much I've barely done it. 

Then I came across this Vogue article by Avital Chizhik-Goldschmidt. As a rebbetzin, she's certainly under more pressure than I am to put on a stunning meal - every week. 

Having emerged from the pandemic, she is eager for social interactions, and instead of being tethered to the kitchen and a multitude of courses, she serves one course, and can actually partake in the conversation. 

I like this idea. But I know I am unable to model it. Currently, I do not make fish for Han and I since he hates it (one course off the menu) but if guests come, I feel compelled to serve it. Han lives for chicken soup, so that's staying (but I make a massive potful every few months and defrost as I go, so that's not hard). Then there's the main, sides, dessert, obsessing while I sleep . . . 

All the while knowing that consuming a four course meal leaves me unpleasantly stuffed and munching on Tums the whole night. 

Some programming is difficult to realign.