Creativity is the main ingredient at an Oscar-night potluck

LOS ANGELES — Ah, winter. The weather may be cold, but the conversations, at least in my neck of the woods, are heating up. Geographic and career proximity to Hollywood means virtually all talk has turned to the Oscars. But with my friends, the conversation isn't so much about who might win what and whether they deserve it, but instead, "What am I going to bring to the Oscar party?"

See, my husband and I, like so many others, hold an annual Oscar-watching party, with one particular popular twist: Guests are requested to bring something eaten in or suggested by a nominated movie. That means nominated this year in any category, be it Documentary Short Subject or Sound Editing or even those boring technical awards that are given in a totally different location on a totally different day.

Confused? Daunted? Not until you think about past nominees such as "Like Water for Chocolate."

Seriously, though, this challenge means you may never look at movies the same way again. Take "Titanic," for example, and the climactic, shattering moment when the string quartet, resigned to its fate, begins quietly playing a hymn as the ship slowly goes down.

The average moviegoer views this scene weeping, snuffling and wondering if his heart will go on. Me? I'm already thinking of serving "Nearer My Cod to Thee" fish and chips.

Hey, no one said anything about good taste.

In fact, this is a gathering that long has been marked by an absence of sentimentality — we lost track of the pork dishes that showed up the year of "Babe" — and a plurality of puns. This explains the "Romaines of the Day" green salad, and the foot-long hot dogs for "Boogie Nights." And since "Titanic" was a big long movie, there were many opportunities for crimes against decency, such as the sea-blue punch bowl, complete with a giant block of ice and little plastic sailors bobbing haplessly about. Too bad the Lifesavers were just candy. It also prompted that old diner order, Adam and Eve on a Raft, and Wreck 'Em, with some Ben & Jerry's Phish Food for dessert.

And how about that chipped thief — er, beef — for "Fargo"? The pickles and ice cream that accompanied it likely would have pleased the pregnant sheriff.

You can imagine the cries of joy that greeted nominations for 1996's "Big Night." Apart from general affection for that charming film, there was scene after scene of glorious Italian food, shot in lascivious detail, just waiting to be reproduced. Movies like these are fail-safes; in fact; any flick set in countries such as China, France or Italy means there is a handy generic fallback, and often one that can be phoned in for delivery, for those pressed for time.

A similar sigh of relief came more recently with "Sideways." But that's just too easy. In fact, gimmes like that are the exact reason we had to install the "Forrest Gump" rule, to wit: Any movie that suggests something so obvious every guest is likely to think of it as well must bring something else in addition to it, lest the buffet consist entirely of shrimp and boxes of chocolate.

This year, we are invoking the rule for "Brokeback Mountain," because otherwise, we are looking at a whole lot of cans of beans and weenies. Or perhaps that's just because we know the kind of guests who come to our party.

If you find yourself intrigued, here are some suggestions for this year:

• Speaking of "Brokeback," you could serve some of the lamb those cowboys kept watch over, but certainly you can't serve fish because, for some reason, they never caught any on their fishing trips. That's OK; you can dish up a little herring to feed the feathery heroes of "March of the Penguins."

• You can bring Japanese food for "Memoirs of a Geisha," but in honor of the ethnically inaccurate cast, it has to be made by Chinese people.

• The Carter and Cash clans in "Walk the Line" would love any kind of Southern food, but if you use a recipe, you must be unfaithful to it.

• For "Capote," how about some In Cold Blood Sausage, along with fruit co(m)pote, and to further represent the title character and his nonfiction novel, a diminutive peculiar dish that gets everyone talking, though you must take a long time to prepare it. As homage to Tru's best friend and fellow interviewer, Harper Lee, and her only book, "To Kill a Mockingbird," make one utterly perfect dish and then never cook again.

• If you aren't into conceptual cuisine and just want something surefire, you can thank the Academy for nominating "The Squid and the Whale" (calamari, of course) and "The Mushroom Club" (you don't need us for that one).

• Speaking of animal-inspired dishes, bring on the bananas and monkey bread for "King Kong," not to mention Welsh rarebit (made with a very rare stinky cheese) for "Wallace & Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit," though you could represent the latter with a chocolate Easter bunny so big it's scary.

• Pay tribute to "Cinderella Man's" battered pugilist — the title character, not the actor who portrayed him — with a nice dish of cauliflower ears, and to the gals with gams from "Mrs. Henderson Presents" with cheesecake.

• Speaking of British comestibles, for a certain Jane Austin novel adaptation, serve tea and scones, and be very proud of it, though you might want to save your prejudice to go along with some black and white cookies for "Crash." However, don't blame us if your friends take the combination of the latter and "The History of Violence" as license to start a food fight.

Then again, that might be a sign that they, too, have begun to think of movies from a culinary, rather than cinematic, perspective.

Northwest Lite is an occasional humor piece in Northwest Life. Mary Herczog freelances in the world of Hollywood and enjoys biting the hand that feeds her with stories like these, not to mention sarcastic comments at Oscar-watching parties.