In an effort to get to know the students on a more personal level, the Colgate professors have been inviting small groups of students to their flats for dinner. Last Sunday, John, Noah, Katy and I were summoned to the house of Michael Coyle & Kara (like Madonna, she needs no last name) for a good old Sunday night dinner with the art professor, Linn Underhill and her partner, Ann. We (the students) were too excited. A: home cooked meals are occasions that one should never be anything less than ecstatic about and B: it was a chance to “play house” i.e., pretend like we are grownups going to a dinner party rather than eating microwave meals at home and not showering. Oh wait. In an effort to show our gratitude and prove that we were classier than regular 20 year olds, we picked up wine and Candy Cakes (whimsical cupcakes that are really more like giant frosted muffins with candy) and hopped on the tube over to Coyle’s flat. In retrospect I regret bringing those diabetic nightmares because we all ended up slowing picking at them until they were gone and we were stuffed beyond comfort. Sorry for that sidenote. Ah yes… So, we were greeted with the delicious smells of simmering chicken Balti and warm bread (smells that I was deprived of as a child because I guess my mom never figured out where our stove is). After the four of us gushed our praises about the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, we were ushered into the living room where we drank wine, ate cheese and looked to our professors for the social clues that would tell us how to interact in an environment other then the classroom. I’m proud and honored to report that teachers do not live in their offices and actually want to talk about other subjects then literature and art! Go figure! In all seriousness, the eight of us were engaged in conversations that can be described as nothing less than scintillating. We talked and ate until we, I sheepishly admit, stayed until 11 pm (I think we are every hosts worst nightmare… guests that don’t know when to leave). At that point, I was trying to figure out how to discreetly unbutton my pants and then roll around on their living room floor because I was that full. I cannot stress enough how much all of us ate. I’m talking way worse than Thanksgiving. The sad part is- I think Noah and Katy ate more than I did and y’all know I can polish off a thing or two. I don’t even want to talk about it because I don’t want to remember how much I consumed because it’s embarrassing. What’s important is this: students + professors+ copious amounts of home cooked food= one my most favorite London nights thus far. It just worked- it was like an athlete being in “the zone”. There were never awkward pauses and the conversations ranged from funny, personal anecdotes to politics and world issues. Cheesy, yes, but magic it was.
