For one London couple, what should have been a relaxed Saturday lunch with friends turned into an all-day culinary ordeal thanks to a simple but crucial misunderstanding about timing.
The Meticulous Lunch Preparation
The table was meticulously laid by 12:30pm, complete with freshly ironed napkins. By 1pm, the meat was perfectly rested and ready to serve. The pear tart awaited its turn in the oven, and every other element of the meal was prepared. There was just one problem: the guests were nowhere to be seen.
The couple, experienced hosts to these particular friends, expected punctuality. "You know them," the wife reassured her husband. "They're prompt." Yet as the clock ticked past 1:30pm, concern began to set in alongside their growing hunger.
The Growing Concern
By quarter to two, the situation felt decidedly strange. The wife attempted to call both members of the couple, only to reach straight through to voicemail each time. "If they were on their way, they would pick up," the husband reasoned, voicing the worry they both shared: had something terrible happened?
Their middle son appeared, shadow-like in the doorway, sensing an opportunity for an early meal. "How long until we can just eat everything?" he asked, capturing the mounting frustration of the situation. But the hosts felt trapped by hospitality - what if their friends arrived just as they began eating?
The Devastating Revelation
As 2:25pm approached and a dark bank of cloud cast a premature dusk over London, a dreadful possibility occurred to the husband. "Are you sure that they know it's lunch?" he asked.
The wife scrolled back through their text chain, which originated in late August. The truth emerged with devastating clarity: she had invited them to supper, not lunch. The couple had been expecting evening guests all along.
The realisation hit hard. The husband found himself with his head in his hands, temporarily speechless at the misunderstanding that had cost them an entire day of cooking and waiting.
The Salvage Operation
Soon, a major salvage operation began. The tart returned to the fridge. The meat was cut up and combined with everything else in a large pot, creating a stew that would later require an invented name. The husband ventured out to buy extra wine, knowing that by suppertime he would need plenty.
Their friends arrived promptly at 7:30pm, and the story of the day's confusion became a source of shared laughter. The mysterious stew required some explanation, and the guests politely pretended to enjoy it.
That night, the exhausted husband went to bed feeling as if he'd been cooking for an entire day - because he had. But in the immediate aftermath of the discovery, sitting with his head in his hands, he managed to raise just one pressing question: "So," he said. "What's for lunch?"
