This is the time of year we must pay special attention to those three little words.
   Those #*@%ing three little words.
   Internet/catalog only.
   Are there any uglier words in the English language? There are certainly no uglier words in the lush, magazine-like Williams-Sonoma circulars, especially in the -- ahem -- appetizer section, where the language is as sumptuous and beautiful as the photography.
   Artisinal cheeses.
   Chorizo empanadas.
   Hand-rolled tamales.
   Shrimp potstickers.
   Lobster pot pie.
   OK, so maybe that last one is a stretch. But if anyone can beautify pot pie (not to mention make four of them seem worth the $79 price tag), it's Williams-Sonoma.
   We say all that to offer a cautionary Christmas tale.
   Long-awaited, prophesied for lo these many years, Little Rock's new Williams-Sonoma store may be an immaculate confection. But entering its doors is not like stepping into the pages of its catalog. At least, not exactly.
   Yes, there are still plenty of opportunities to spot copper cookware and brilliantly hued spatulas that, to foodies, are like seeing movie stars in the flesh you've only seen on the big screen.
   Things the new Williams-Sonoma does have: a massive refrigerator in the storeroom. A working gas stovetop and oven at the cash register.
   What the new Williams-Sonoma doesn't have: empanadas, tamales, potstickers to go in them.
   Heartbreaking, we know.
   No, Virginia, there is no freezer section.
   You, like us, faced with a potential one-hour turnaround between the end of the work day this season and the start of a cocktail party, might have had visions, dancing like sugar plums, of popping into Williams-Sonoma, buying a package of the cocktail bites you know and love from drooling over them in the catalog, dashing home to pop them in the oven, all in time to make the party. (Perhaps you, like us, have thought to yourself: I would never mail-order food, but if only we had a Williams-Sonoma store here.... )
   Then those three little words rampage into the picture, stomping on the toes of our dancing sugar plums.
   Internet/catalog only.
   But all is not lost: If Emmitt Smith can learn to dance the M.C. Hammer, surely your visions can learn to dance with chocolate-covered glaceed apricots, no?
   On a recent jaunt through Williams-Sonoma, upon processing the fact that crab cakes were out of the question, we quickly changed course: What could we buy to take to a party and have ready to serve almost immediately?
   Though the store offers a generous inventory of readyto-boil pastas and sauces, marinade starter kits and dry-rub spice blends, this is an eating column, not a cooking column. (So, smell ya later, braised bacon pasta sauce. No really, we will smell you later.)
   And there is an even more generous inventory of packaged products, like creme-brulee sugar and strawberry butter, you might feel tempted to stick your finger in and then lick it. But this is a civilized eating column. People at cocktail parties tend to frown on finger-reliant presentation methods. For whatever reason.
   So we filled a handheld chrome shopping basket -- of course, a gleaming, tasteful chrome shopping basket -- with the following: one box of aged asiago cheese crackers, one bag of seasoned pretzel sticks, one box of lemon parmesan cocktail biscuits and one jar of asiago-parmesan garlic basil spread.
   The products were all attractively packaged and partyready. (In fact, we were already home before we noted the only offensive detail from any of the foodstuff's packaging: a note on the jar of spread that suggested the product is best paired with crusty bread -- another item not available, at least in prepared form, in-store. At this point, we were beginning to suspect that Williams' and Sonoma's first names were Sado and Masochist.)
   As for their flavors, the asiago crackers were asiago-y, if, at 31 crackers (yes, we counted) for $6, a little stingy; the lemon parmesan biscuits -- guess what? -- lemony and parmesany ($14 for two foil bags roughly the size of single-serving potato chips). Even the pretzels managed to seem elegant, if heavily reminiscent of the flavor of homemade Chex party mix. (It was probably the Worcestershire sauce.) They were also the best bargain, at $3.50 for an 8-ounce bag.
   The whole assortment, refined though it was, would have only seemed impressive in quantity at a cocktail party of no more than six people. The total bill? $42.
   Sigh. For that we could have bought two lobster pot pies.
   Williams-Sonoma, Midtowne Little Rock shopping center, Markham Street and University Avenue, Little Rock, (501) 663-3019,

www.williams-sonoma.com
. Spork Report is a monthly take on takeout. E-mail your favorite Styrofoam stop-offs to:
   

kbrazzel@arkansasonline.com

This story was published Friday, December 01, 2006