A Reputation By Any Other Name

Having a reputation can be a double-edged sword. This is evident in my job. Since I'm known for being demanding and loud, I don't have too many problems with kids acting inappropriately. Most of the students walk a step or two out of my way and don't even consider crossing me. This makes my life a good deal easier because I don't have to deal with many behavior problems. On the other hand, this same reputation often means kids who don't know me well assume I'm mean and share this idea with their parents who believe every word their cherubs utter. Of course, once the parents actually speak to me, this perception is dispelled and all is well. This kind of reputation is built partially from the students and partially from careful construction of an image.

Lately, I find my husband has been carefully constructing an image of me as well, only this one deals with my prowess in the kitchen. Recently he came back into contact with a friend from college who has been touring and performing all over the world for many years. The friend recently married and moved back to the valley with his new wife to start a business and settle into family life. When this said friend came to visit the school and conduct a workshop with the kids, Jeff promptly invited him to dinner and began bragging about my culinary skills.

While I'm flattered that my husband likes the food I prepare, this too presents a dilemma. Do I make a straightforward meal that we pass around the table, or do I fix something extraordinary? This may not seem like a big deal, but because the hubby has extolled my virtues, I feel obliged to live up to the reputation. I don't think I can take the easy way out, lest our company feels disappointed by the menu. After all, Jeff told him about choosing a theme and building dinner around it, finding a wine pairing for each dish, and serving just a few bites each of six or seven courses. To compound the situation, Jeff's friend also knows another couple who were frequent guests at our table before a job took them out of state. These people have also built up the mythology of our dinner parties and our home to hopelessly high levels. Thus, with a week to go I'm already pondering a theme that is sure to impress; however, I can't help but wonder if something in the pressure cooker might be more appropriate.