So, we held the 5th Peirene Salon last Saturday. Me nerves before hand were of course totally unnecessary. It all went smoothly, performers 
performed beautifully and guests enjoyed themselves. No drama, no story to tell. End of this blog entry. Were it not for the beauty competition. We introduced this new aspect of the literary Salon quite subtly, not everyone might have noticed.
Who was the belle of the ball? The long list included Sarah, Suzy et moi. I am afraid non of us made it onto the short list. We were thrown out of the race early on by three delightful 15-year-old waitresses and a handsome 10-year-old door bouncer. But they didn’t win either. The competition was stiff. Madam The Potato Salad was impressive. As usual. A real contender. But but but ….. yes there were some tears … she too was beaten by … The Cheese. Perfect, mature and with an absolutely incomparable smell.
The Cheese was the star of the evening. Previous ones had been good. And to serve a big round 3kg Brie or Camembert or Vacherin is definitely a party trick I can recommend. Some chutney and grapes on the side and lots of baguette – it always goes down well. But this time the cheese was outstanding. As it’s often the case with real beauty and worth, it didn’t strike me immediately. I had bought it last Wednesday at the usual place, the fantastic cheese shop in Muswell Hill. I was told to leave it outside the fridge to ensure perfect condition for the party. And perfect it was! The smell hit you the moment you entered our house door. As a good Germanic Hausfrau, I became so embarrassed that I decided to put a note up at the door for arriving guests. I wanted to warn them but also to let them know – discreetly – that they shouldn’t blame my house-keeping for the smell.
No one minded. I guess most couldn’t even smell anything by the time 40 people were cramped into our kitchen. But almost all commented while they were eating or, at the latest, when they said goodbye. And some stayed much longer than intended as they couldn’t tear themselves away from the cheese.
Sadly, stardom doesn’t last long. Your reach the zenith, glow for a moment or two and then puff – it’s all gone. That’s what happened to the cheese, too. It’s all eaten and long digested, I don’t think we will ever have such cheesy perfection again. But please come along to our next show, Madam The Potato Salad is quite perturbed. She does not like to be so blatantly pushed into second place. Her come-back will surely be awe inspiring, intended to take the London literary scene by storm.
case you missed it! However, being called a “class act” carries risk. A single indiscretion or unprofessional pronouncement and the reputation comes tumbling down.
be hard work. But my weekends? Pure pleasure – first spreadsheet delight, now salon galore! I’m not joking. It was really nice. And it’s only now, four days after the event, that I really can grasp what a success it was. It was the first ever totally sold out salon. I managed to fit 40 people into my study/office where we hold the reading. Truth to be told it wasn’t an exercise in physical comfort. 40 adults in a front room sat on little primary school chairs. I don’t think people minded too much – or at least no one has sued me yet for bodily harm. Instead the audience felt intellectually, creatively and emotionally uplifted by the three stars at the front, 
debacle.