Job of eating Leftovers Fall to the Party Hostess

A fun part of having a party is later, when only a few guests remain. You relax, take off your shoes, hash over what happened and eat the leftovers.
We just had a brunch and it was great fun, with one exception. The leftover guests said they were too full to eat the leftovers, which left the whole task up to me.
Unfortunately, this is not an insurmountable job. My mouth is more than willing, even eager; to eat anything – rich, delicious, and usually forbidden – it can sink its teeth into.
My hips have another reaction, usually involving expansion.
Several friends offered to bring “something” for the brunch, so we had a magnificent display of cakes, coffee cakes and other sweets. As the guests circled the buffet table, I encouraged them to treat their palates luxuriously and try all the offerings at least once.
After everyone had been fed, I noticed the bounty was still bountiful, so I began pressing guests to make repeat visits.
Despite my urgings, the table still had a million-calorie price tag, so I began pushing food on people as they departed. But my designated receivers were reluctant.
“All these kids will take care of what’s left,” one said.
This is a logical assumption, except my kids never eat good homemade pastries. If the table were laden with Ho-Ho’s and Twinkies, I’m sure there would have been nothing left to give away.
“I don’t need it,” was the other response.
“Neither do I,” I would say. “So give it to your bus driver or cab driver…Take it to work tomorrow…Have your neighbors in for coffee…Have your son take it to Cub Scouts…Freeze it and bring it back next time we have a party.”
Despite all these attempts, the inevitable happened. I was left with too many unavoidably good things to eat.
When this happens, there are a couple courses of action.
At one extreme is the sensible approach of wrapping all the leftovers for the freezer and saying, “I’ve had enough sweets for one day.”
Of course, this involves self-control and since I have none, I usually follow the course of action that involves stuffing myself.
That’s what I did after the brunch. After all, I couldn’t let all that good cooking go to waste. But when I went to bed feeling like a filled kolache, I told myself, “Tomorrow, I’m not going to touch any of that stuff. I’ll save some for the kids and give the rest away.”
I woke up with that resolve, and it lasted until I got downstairs and came face to face with a plate of homemade sweet rolls.
Before I knew it, I was off and eating, climbing that mountain of desserts, eating them just because they were there.
What’s the key to avoiding these after-party leftover benders? I could have another party immediately for some big eaters, or I could serve less. But I never will, because even when I have too much food I worry about having enough.
The only good answer is for all the food to become low-calorie as soon as the party ends, I wonder how I could do that?
April 16, 1986