There is something about finger food. It seems both sophisticated and mischievous.

I guess that's because there is something heedless and hedonistic about eating with your fingers. It's the standing part that makes it feel so sophisticated.

Still, on the flip side– finger food can make you feel downright childlike too (and I mean that in a good way). Boring old grown-ups sit politely while eating, napkins in laps. But us cocktail kids get to slink around the room– glass in one hand, tidbit in the other. It’s that wonderful moment when your past and present selves playfully intertwine in a way that seldom happens at the dinner table.

Of course the best thing about finger food is that it is associated with parties. I guess that's why finger food doesn’t feel like calories, does it? Finger food usually mingles on a communal platter, enticing its intended targets (you and I) to follow suit.

This morning at breakfast Ken (my hunky BF) and I were discussing the day. You know, getting the lay of the land for the next 24 hours. All couples do that… Would there be business stuff tonight, or no? Would he be around for dinner or not? The man works and works and works, so I always gotta ask.

He mentioned his day included meeting people for coffee and dessert sometime after 8pm, but dinner at home was on the agenda (goodie, I thought!).

So, (more to myself than anything) I said: “That’s great I have a pound of broccoli florets that need to be eaten while they are still fresh and green.”

To my surprise, he not only heard me but he answered.

He said: “Oh you should make that super lemony, crisp broccoli and garlic salad like we used to get at Fab’s in the valley”.

First off, by “we” he meant he and his old (I mean previous) BF. But I let that pass. After nearly 20 years of coupledom I figure I’d know if he still held a torch for an old flame. No need to be dramatic, though I am perfectly capable of being dramatic if need be.

Of course, the recipe was another story. That I could not be so sure about. I mean, I was working at a disadvantage here, I was not a part of the “we” that “liked” said “broccoli salad”, was I? No I was the “me” that had never had this salad before. Oh, wait... I am getting dramatic. Scale it back, Greg.