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I wanted to ask him, in that brief pause, just what exactly was going on. What was he doing here? Why was he standing in my bedroom, exchanging checks for wines that he’d offered to bring—and why did he contact me in the first place? We barely knew each other. What was the meaning of this?

“Well, good night,” he said.

“Yep.”

I walked him to the door. We said good night once again at the door, and nothing else.

I closed it shut and turned to the threesome of Jordan, Karol, and Matt.

“You know what?” I said, after giving the door a good tug. “Who cares?”

“Turn that stereo up this minute!” Matt yelled. I gladly obliged.

“He’s really not that cool,” Jordan told me seriously. “You’re so much better than him.”

Karol was sprawled out on the couch but nodded without pause.

I realized then that in my eagerness to cook up the best, swoon-worthy meal, I let myself dismiss the goal of finding just the right person to swoon over.

We stayed up until well past four in the morning, dancing, drinking the last bottle of wine, but mostly talking about why the four of us, creative, fairly attractive, and fun-loving twentysomethings, couldn’t seem to find a decent date in this big city of ours. For the first time that night (perhaps for the first time in the past few weeks since SOS planning got under way), I felt completely relaxed. We poured ourselves small glasses of the amaretto liqueur I’d used for the ice cream. We scraped up the last remaining scoops of ice cream from the carton in the freezer, and I single-handedly polished off the so-so amaretti cookies that were left behind. We got too tired from dancing and drinking to stand and found ourselves sprawled out on our backs on the hardwood floor.

“You made such good food,” Jordan mumbled.

“Yeah, too much, though. I think I’d throw up if I tried to sleep with anyone tonight,” Matt said.

“Do you want us to help with the dishes?” Karol asked, glancing at the stacks of plates on the counter and in the sink.

“Nah. It can wait until tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to think about doing the dishes, or about throwing another supper club ever again. Not right then. Yet, despite all the work and mess it produced, and it being an utter failure in terms of inducing romance, SOS was still probably the most fun I’d had all year. SOS, indeed, I thought. Sorry Old Suckers for romance.

“You know what a better name for this night might have been?” I said, looking up at the plastered ceiling. My friends grunted in response.

“Appetite for Destruction.”

Asparagus, Avocado, and Watercress Salad

I’ve made this salad with many types of vegetables when asparagus isn’t in season, like broccoli, and sometimes swap in sautéed portobello strips instead of the avocado. The crisp, blanched asparagus contrasts in texture with the rest and makes for a light, refreshing salad.

(SERVES 4-6)

1 bunch (about 10 thin stalks) fresh asparagus, tough ends trimmed and discarded, and chopped to 1-inch pieces on a diagonal

1 avocado, cubed

1 bunch watercress, roughly chopped

1 scallion, thinly sliced on a diagonal

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1-2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Bring a wide, shallow pan of water to a boil. Set up an ice bath in a large bowl. Place asparagus in boiling water and cook for about 2 minutes. Remove asparagus with tongs and immediately transfer to ice bath. Let cool about 1 minute; then drain and pat dry.

Toss the rest of the ingredients with the asparagus in a large bowl. Can be covered and chilled up to 2 hours before serving.

Pomegranate-Braised Beef Cheeks with Butternut Squash Puree

(SERVES 4-6)

5 pounds beef cheeks, trimmed of excess fat and cut to equal-sized pieces (depending on how many you’re serving)

Salt and pepper

½ cup flour

2-4 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 medium onion, chopped

1 carrot, chopped

1 celery stalk, chopped

2 cups Chianti or other dry red wine

2 cups pomegranate juice

1 large butternut squash

1 tablespoon