How to Host a Dinner Party (14 page)

Sneak away quietly or run the risk of breaking the spell you’ve cast, the warm bubble of fresh conversation that should envelop your friends while you scurry to your labour.

If you are not quiet, you will hear …

THE MEDDLERS

 
 “Is there anything I can do to help?” This question is a red flag that you need to be prepared for. It can mean one of three things.

1. 1.
   The guest loves to cook or help.
   
2. 2.
   The guest feels a sense of responsibility, or guilt that you’re working away in the kitchen while he or she is relaxing.
   
3. 3.
   The guest is nervous and, lacking the ability to make conversation with new people, wants to be busy in the kitchen.
   

There’s nothing wrong with any of these. But know in advance if you do need or want help with anything. If you’ve prepared this feast for your friends, you probably don’t need some last-minute meddler getting in your way in the kitchen. Your job — making introductions and pouring the drinks — is to break the evening’s ice for them. And you’ve retreated to the kitchen only when you see that people are happily engaged with each other. But if you think that a guest is asking because they feel uncomfortable, say no, you don’t need any help, but you’d love some company in the kitchen.

You’ve just got to tell would-be helpers where to stand. There are people who, like a golden retriever, will position themselves at the room’s nexus or bottleneck. Feel free to direct them: “I need you to stand there and not move.” Guests need to know that the kitchen is a workplace and that they should not get in the way. They should find the corner of the room that is the least used and stand there, not pace back and forth to stay close to the cook. The cook is working and needs room to move around — room to reach the bowls in the top cupboard and the whisk in the third drawer on the right.

Hanging out in the kitchen can be fun, but if as a guest you notice that your host has become flustered, is unable to communicate, keeps looking at a printed recipe, is doing double-takes, pick up on these as cues that they are not able to talk and cook at the same time. Many would like to but cannot. Also, if you’re having a nice, cozy time in the kitchen but then others join you, watch to see if your host’s posture and tone changes, if they are now less able to cook. Be the team leader — “We should all get out of the kitchen and let Helen do her thing.”

As a host, you might consider leaving some simple tasks for guests to do, such as putting out napkins or opening wine. But this is transparently busy work, the sort we use to distract an overly energetic child. Be more strategic — this is your chance to make a tiny investment that will reap large dividends. “I’m all set now,” you tell your friend, “but maybe in between courses you could help with the dishes?” Believe me, you’ll be cashing that IOU.

There are many labours during the meal. Food must be cooked, wine and water poured, dishes cleared and washed, lighting and music adjusted. Once you’ve hosted enough times, it becomes less of a performance filled with checklists and stopwatches and more of a ship of which you are captain, gently steering the conversation whenever it gets off course, keeping the engine running with food and the gears oiled with alcohol.

The guests are your passengers and your crew (yes, I’ve grown as tired of this metaphor as you have). During the meal, take up your friends’ offers of assistance. There may be some who wouldn’t feel as if they’d participated if they didn’t wash a plate or pour a drink.

However, some people do not want to lift a finger as guests, nor should they have to. That’s what makes this country great. It is their right and I support them in this. You can expect their spouse to nag them for not helping. This is always humorous to watch, but do not nag a guest.

THE SNACK

 
 Hungry people should be fed. If you’ve invited friends to your house to eat, there is a reasonable expectation that they will arrive hungry. And, in turn, they have a reasonable expectation that you will feed them in a timely manner. These two events need to synchronize a little — your guests should not be without food for too long.

My solution to this is to get dinner started without too much preamble. I aim to have the first course on the table within half an hour of guests arriving.

The other solution is to serve something before dinner. This could be as simple as leaving bowls of nuts and dried fruits on the table where you’re having your drinks, just something for idle hands and nibblers. It could be a more substantial snack of bread and cheese. Or you might get really involved and do passed hors d’oeuvres of hot food.

I don’t like any of these. Not that I don’t enjoy being served or being fed, but my problem with the passed hors d’oeuvres is that they inevitably requires too much last-minute labour on the part of the host. Blinis topped with caviar and crème fraîche are a wonderful two-bite start to the evening. However, at the moment when ice is still being broken, the host shouldn’t be at the stove, flipping blinis or gingerly dolloping each one with garnish. And walking around with a serving plate is just too precious for me.

Of course that depends on your home and the type of tone you’re trying to set. If I had the floor space and I was celebrating my wife’s tenure by hosting the dean and the treasurer of the endowment board, yes, passed hors d’oeuvres would be in order.

But in my home, if there’s going to be any type of pre-dinner snack, I prefer it to be something that can be laid out on the coffee table. The casualness of reaching for a slice of prosciutto or deciding how big a wedge to carve off of a brick of Taleggio is more in keeping with the informal tone we want our guests to feel.

My concern is with giving guests too much food before dinner. Just as planning a final course with a negotiable amount of starch can help to adjust for the remaining appetites at the end of the evening, providing guests with too much at the beginning can demolish those appetites.

If they arrive hungry and you provide them with a loaf of bread you’ve bought or a big bag of chips in a bowl, they’re going to eat it all, particularly if you keep them waiting too long for dinner. Offering a large amount of starch before supper, without portioning it, is a recipe for ruining appetites. And if you put out too small an amount, it looks chintzy. Better to get dinner on the table quickly.

Caveat: If you fry your own chips or bake your own bread, feel free to start with this. But tell people about the effort so they appreciate it.

THE SEATING AND THE SEATS

 
 Whether you’re serving a six-course meal or a big shared feast, at some point you have to start eating. Guests sometimes get comfortable with cocktails on the sofa, and are too entrenched in conversation to be easily corralled. Without being a dictator, get your guests to the dinner table.

If guests are in the living room, you might think that taking a seat at the dining table would send a message, but if they’re having a good time — and they should be — they won’t want to move, so you’re going to have to motivate them. You can do this with the carrot or the stick.

THE STARTING LINE

It’s not always easy to know when to fire the starting pistol for dinner. You’ve got to read the crowd. One time I had an acupuncturist as a guest. She poked needles into everyone’s head and hands, and I think that most of us could have sat there for a long time, relaxing, but eventually, I had to get my pork loin back in the oven.

Another guest who brought his work to dinner was the manager of the city’s food inspection agency. I asked him to bring his kit and wanted to do the inspection pre-dinner (like a restaurant, it’s cleaner at 5 p.m. than at 11 p.m.). But I also figured I’d get a more generous review after the meal. Marked on “the Chinatown curve,” I passed.

The director of a ballet school, appointed to be the mayor’s arts adviser, was so unable to speak candidly for political reasons that we quickly reached a conversational stalemate and dinner needed to be the focus of the evening.

Another awkward evening was a dinner for a group of home brewers. I figured that since they all knew each other and hung out regularly, they would slide right into conversation, but until they reached their third beer, not one of them was talkative. So even though I just had to run to the stove and reheat the ribs I’d smoked that day, they needed a long babysitting until they could safely be left alone.

I’ve hosted the occasional brunch. Even if people are coming over at noon, assume that they are ravenous. They have no time for small pre-meal bites. You’ve got to get them fed and soon.

So try to get food on the table within a half-hour. Rather than using a stopwatch, be flexible and read your guests’ moods and appetites.

The carrot is to bring out a dish that you’re serving, steam billowing, filling the room with the perfume of its spices. As the warm food catches everyone’s attention, you ask, “Would you join me at the dining table?” And your guests should follow you, Pied Piper style.

But maybe your first course doesn’t lend itself to this type of cheap theatrics. Maybe it’s too heavy or too hot. Maybe it’s soup.

The stick is to go into the living room and declare, “Boy, you better get your ass to the dining table,” or “Would everyone please take a seat at the dinner table?” Be authoritative and make eye contact with at least one person until he or she gets up. Beware the group mentality. If you speak to the group without singling anyone out and then leave the room before anyone rises, the whole pack might just sit there.

The Seats