The Austin Chronicles - Part 2

Because I'm such a softie and enjoy spreading the holiday cheer, we hosted a little get-together at my house a few weeks ago to celebrate the upcoming Christmas season. Also, I like a good excuse to use my fancy, company's coming serving dishes and stock up my pantry with all the leftover boxes of Wheat Thins that people leave behind.

We I (with the help of pals) threw together a nice little menu of party-friendly foods. Pulled pork on pistolettes, spinach and artichoke dip, pinwheels, red velvet cupcakes, amaretto chocolate chip cookies, (thanks Me!), chicken wings (thanks, Lisa!), marinated cheese (thanks, Amelia!), jalapeno dip and Zea's Mediterranean hummus (thanks, Frances!), and an assortment of yummy desserts (thanks, Cassie!).

Back to the pinwheels. They're actually called Nancy's Deli Spirals, and I don't know about you, but I think that Nancy is one whiz at deli-spiral-making. I'm pretty sure pinwheels got their nickname and popularity as a go-to hors d'oeuvre from my friend Linda (hi Linda!) because all you have to do is take them out of the freezer and defrost them for 30 minutes. No cooking involved. Which means Linda is all over it like white on rice.

Sidenote: There was a small glitch in acquiring the much-loved pinwheels this year. They're usually available in a 60-count box at Sam's Club for $9.98. Both Sam's Clubs in the area were out of stock. Being the stealthy shopper that I am, I found them for sale at Winn Dixie, only in a much smaller 32-count box that still sold for $9.98. Winn Dixie is always a ripoff, but I figured it was a small price to pay for the happiness of my guests.

Again, pinwheels. I arranged them on a pretty fleur de lis plate on my counter. I crammed the empty box into our already-full garbage can, then stepped outside for about 20 seconds to take out the trash. I walked back inside the kitchen door and immediately saw the empty plate. With one rogue pinwheel dangling off the edge. And Austin looking up at me with his crooked head and wide eyes and wagging tail. Waiting for my reaction. To the fact that he just ate NINE DOLLARS WORTH OF OVERPRICED PINWHEELS.

Now, before you get all "Suzie is such a miser for whining about a few bucks worth of appetizers," consider this: My most vivid memory of childhood is Sunday lunch at my Granny's house. Which we had to wait for until my dad finished clipping coupons from the glossy newspaper inserts. And also the fact that my mother has never purchased a single article of clothing that wasn't on sale. Even if the pants are only 99 cents at full price. She physically cannot bring herself to purchase them unless there is a sale sticker on the tag. You see how deep the roots of my frugality are embedded.

Once more, pinwheels. What else can you do when your dog's nose is countertop height and when he's in the vicinity of food he has the self control of one of those people who eat 33,000 calories a day and spend 12 years of their life confined to bed until they have to be lifted off by a forklift and extracted from their bedroom with the aid of a hacksaw and the jaws of life?

Do you hope he made himself sick inhaling all those pinwheels in one fell swoop then regrets his actions when he's puking them up later? Do you make him get a job cutting the neighbor's grass one weekend so he can pay for the box of pinwheels? Do you take away his cell phone and ground him til he's 20? Or do you just laugh?

Survey says: Laugh.

Then make him send handwritten apology letters to your friends for being such a bad dog. BAD, BAD DOG.