Paella and Pudding

Last night, me and the girls headed over to my friend Alex's house to celebrate her birthday with what promised to be a glorious feast prepared by her mother, the original hostess with the mostess. Alex's birthday usually consists of frozen margaritas, a variety of salads and breads, posh meats and macarons. I was therefore extremely eager to see what was on offer this year and it's safe to say I was not disappointed. 

Upon arriving, the counter was laid with fresh bread, olives, cheeses, Spanish tortillas, salads, a sink full of Sangria and dozens of champagne flutes. We all nibbled ("gorged" might be a more appropriate adjective) on the array of treats whilst catching up on university and gap year stories, complaining about boys and detailing all the gossip we've accumulated over the past few weeks. You can always count on dining at Alex's house to make you feel a lot more sophisticated than you actually are!

After filling up on everything available (apart from the cheese, which was made by her Grandad and topped with some sort of fruity jam that looked extremely intimidating) I slunk off in to her library to look around. Yes, you heard correctly, there's a library; and when I say library, I don't just mean a few bookshelves and a chair. When I say library I mean chandeliers, ornate paintings, pianos, candelabras, armchairs and ceiling-high bookshelf with an actual ladder. Like in the movies.

Cookbooks, anyone?

After the tapas had settled, the pièce de résistance was revealed; a gigantic, succulent pan of paella. At least 10lbs of beautifully golden rice mixed with tomatoes and chicken (and probably some other stuff that I don't know the name of but ate nonetheless) and topped with lemon quarters sat before us. Needless to say, we devoured our servings in a matter of minutes before going back for seconds.

Feeling full to the brim with authentic Spanish dishes and blushing a little due to the copious amounts of Sangria, we all told ourselves we wouldn't be able to manage dessert. Of course, that was before we saw what had been prepared for dessert; a plate piled high with brownie chunks, rocky road pieces, chocolate orange truffles and chocolate eggs. 

The rest of the evening was spent in a sort of slumber, picking at the platters until not even the crumbs remained and talking lazily about everything from strippers to Oxford traditions. By the time 11 o clock rolled around I was more than ready to crawl in to bed and nurse my food baby until morning called.

KJ xo