Here Piggy, Piggy, Piggy

Here's the story.

Last weekend HRH was over at my apartment with a friend of hers.

Now, I am a rabid hostess. I love ramekins. I spend time starching and ironing linen napkins on a regular basis - which I exclusively use in my home. When I ask friends over for dinner, you can be sure there will be placecards, and if there is time, a menu card.

As an event planner I have learned myriad napkin folds and have become obsessive over place settings and using the correct glass for the correct beverage. I am proud of the fact that even if someone drops by unexpectedly, I have snacks and can in a pinch, make a full blown meal.

Upon HRH and friend's arrival, I set about doing everything I can to make them comfortable -- even HRH who has been at my house almost as much as I have and is more than happy to serve herself. No matter. People have come into my home and I am now Hostess. Like it's my superhero alter ego.

I start to create a sausage and cheese platter and people. This man. This "person" HRH has brought into my home does not eat pork. ("No bacon?", you ask? No. Not even bacon.)

First of all, I'm stunned, as I always am when I hear someone doesn't eat pork. "Are you Muslim?" "Are you Jewish?" "Are you just a really big fan of Samuel Jackson and refuse to eat pork ever since that scene in Pulp Fiction?" "What about cheese? You at least eat cheese, right?" It baffles me.

Then, I look into my fridge for options. This is when I learn that I have a pork problem. I have prosciutto. I have sopressata. I have left over meat sauce I made the night before -- what's the main ingredient? ... sausage.

So, you know what no-pork-please guy ends up with? An English muffin.

This is the point in the story where I have a epiphany. Where I am able to finally recognize what I feel my duties as Hostess to all who enter my home are in respect to my intolerance for non-pork-eating people.

No-pork-please guy, who I only met 20 minutes prior, has come into my home to play my Wii and to (after he notices the bar in the back) drink my mediocre tequila, and I allowed his no pork policy to make me question my hostessing abilities. I felt that I had somehow failed because I was unable to come up with any pork substitute for him other than a Thomas' Light MultiGrain English muffin.

Dear people. My millions and millions of adoring fans. Don't worry. Your Princess has come to her senses. She is as incredible a hostess as she has ever been. And, I realized that this wasn't a failure in my abilities as a hostess. This was simply a lesson on implementing stricter door policies.