How to Host a Dinner Party (4 page)

The Talker:
This is the most important guest. Make a folder in your address book. Add to it anyone who is good at talking
and
listening — not necessarily an extroverted lout, but someone adept at talking to anyone. Once you have a collection of these types, make sure there is at least one at your dinner. The Talker is a spare tire, a lightning rod, who will engage other guests, allowing you to do those little things like cooking and serving.

The Bore:
Don’t confuse the Bore with the Talker. While the Talker has moderating skills and is able to get others to open up, the Bore only likes the sound of his own voice.

The Helper:
Guests should never expect to work for their meal. But there are some people who just can’t help helping. Take advantage. A good friend who will help clear plates or refill water without being told is invaluable.

The Turtle:
It’s not their fault, but some people just aren’t good at talking. I would advise them to get good at listening. Often we cannot escape these people. They have married our friends and family and we need to embrace them. But they drain our energy and there should never be more than one at any table.

The Sommelier:
Often derided as wine snobs, these are the people who will not only bring three bottles to dinner, but take responsibility for pouring and keeping everyone’s glass full. An asset not to be abused, the sommelier can be counted on for major contributions without being asked.

The Drunk:
We all have a friend who drinks too much. At the beginning of the night, they can be what we need to get things moving. But by the end of the night, guests will flee to escape their embarrassing behaviour. I have had great success in gently reminding a guest, “Kenny, please don’t drink too much tonight.”

The Sad Sack:
Anyone who tells stories devoid of humour about something terrible that happened to them is not a good dinner guest. We all have family members suffering from tragic diseases. We all work for underfunded or understaffed organizations, but we’ve gotten together tonight to have a good time, not to commiserate.

The Wonderstruck:
I know a few people who have their eyes wide open, entertained by every new idea that comes their way. Their enthusiasm and lack of cynicism not only makes them a joy to be around, but helps bring quieter people out of their shells.

The Snob:
Forever putting a price tag on every moment, the Snob insists on comparing your meal with one he had in Bologna, your glasses with the ones at a hotel in Moscow. Invite the Snob only if you are a snob yourself and in competition with this person.

FRIENDS, FRENEMIES, AND PLUS ONES

Single people do not automatically get a plus one. This is not to discriminate against the solo, but with only so much space at the table, a host may have just the right number of guests, precluding dates. Additionally, a host may reasonably not want to chance the chemistry of a cozy evening with someone they’ve never met.

Plus ones follow the same rules as wedding invitations, but with the host’s advantage/excuse of having limited space. If a guest has a new boyfriend or girlfriend, he or she is confirming that it’s a serious relationship by introducing them to the group (aka the jury). You can’t bring a first date to the dinner party.

The dinner party is like a centrifuge for new friendships. It’s going to take your personalities and spin them around at a speed powerful enough to separate the BS. This can be fantastic if you’ve got a friend, a co-worker, a co-worker’s friend, a friend’s wife, and you’re thinking that maybe you might be actual friends, if only you got to know each other. It can be just the right setting to push past the barriers that we have around us at the office, but be warned. The dinner party can be like three friend dates in one. And the downside to that is that you can find yourself on the third date with someone you never would have talked to after the first. This can be a miserable circumstance. So if you’re considering dinner with a couple and are experiencing strong waves of reasonable doubt about these people, go to a restaurant, where the difference between a two-and-a-half-hour meal and a four-hour meal will be money well spent.

Then there are the people that we already know we don’t like. This is trickier and it’s a question I get asked frequently. Can you invite a friend and tell her not to bring her husband? Sure, so long as you’re comfortable with making it clear that you don’t like her husband, you never want to see him, and you don’t respect the choices she’s made in her life. We don’t have to invite into our homes anyone we don’t like. Life is too short for that. However, most people are a package deal. We can’t invite guests and tell them not to bring their husband or wife. That’s a declaration of hostility.

If you truly can’t stand your friend’s husband, then you just can’t invite her for dinner. That’s it. The exception to this is a girls’ night or boys’ night or some other members-only-oriented celebration.

This is why it’s so important that we like our friends’ partners. Sure, we want our friends to be happy and in love. That’s our reason on the books. But unofficially, we want them to date someone who isn’t an idiot, a drunk, or a bore because we will have to endure this person for a lifetime of dinners, movies, and boat shows.

That’s why there is so much weight put on the first time we meet a friend’s new suitor. The moment your friend marries someone you don’t like is the moment you stop being real friends.

Lest you think this is all too mercenary, remember that whom you invite to your dinner is more important that what you cook. It would be more fun to eat microwave popcorn with your best friend than a brilliant meal with Hitler.

THE INVITATIONS

 
 The Time and Place

Technology comes and goes. Twenty years ago, we were forced to call each other to make plans. It put us on the spot. We’d pick up the receiver, attached by a coiled cable, and unbidden, we’d discover if our friends were slurring their speech at 9 p.m. Or we’d find out if we were indeed on an “it’s me” level of friendship. Maybe in another twenty years, we’ll all be cybernetically linked. Or maybe we’ll have regressed to beepers or smoke signals.

But as of this moment in time, email is a perfectly good way to invite guests. The event is hardly urgent enough to merit a phone call. A text message — “cum 2 r house 4 dinner” — is too brief, and the form too demanding of an immediate reply. An e-vite is a clumsy relic of the last decade. And creating a Facebook event, as common as the practice may be, is overwrought for the occasion. You’re trying to cook dinner for friends, not organize a union.

If you are emailing a group, do not hide any addresses. When I receive a dinner party invitation with all the other guests in the
bcc
line, I wonder if I’m being invited to the final scene in an Agatha Christie novel, where I’ll be one of ten strangers, each with a plausible motive to have murdered Lord Snootington.

When sending out invitations, keep in mind what you would like to know as a guest. Maybe I’m paranoid, but the first piece of information I want to know is who else is coming. Believe it or not, not all of our friends like each other.

Include everyone in the address line. If you’ve already confirmed a couple of people, let others know that Couple A will be attending. For example, “Hey, we’re hosting dinner on the 15th. Sue-Ellen and Pinter are coming (yes, they got a sitter for the night). We’d love it if you could join us. Does that night work for you?” This lets people know part of the guest list and, more importantly, that the date is set, so they can’t respond by suggesting another date. If Marla’s cousin’s wedding rehearsal is on the 15th, then she can’t come.

You don’t need to list the time in the invitation. It’s officious and can give people the impression that it’s non-negotiable, like the date. The time has wiggle room (for the right people). If one person is working late that day, make it a later dinner rather than lose that guest.

Once people have confirmed, state a clear start time. None of this “sevenish” malarkey (see the punctuality chart in Chapter Five). I usually invite guests for 7 p.m. Keep in mind friends with children. They might need to start early or, if they have young children, they may need to start late so they can first put the kids to bed.

But do consider an addendum, reminding your friends not to drink and drive. Most people don’t expect to get drunk at a dinner party, but it’s pretty inevitable. Legal accountability differs depending on where we live, though our moral responsibility is the same: we should all act to prevent drunk driving when we can. We can’t be wilfully ignorant of our guests, choosing to engage in criminal activity. If guests tell us that they will have to leak some military secrets or sell a bunch of cocaine in order to make it to dinner, we’d object to that. The invitation stage is a good point at which to address this rather than at the end of the night, when it will be an ugly argument over confiscating car keys.

Unintentionally, this divides us between urban and suburban. Where I live, if people are expecting to drink, they just take a cab. In the suburbs or rural areas, this is perhaps not an option. Some people may choose to drink more responsibly. Some may simply accept that intoxicated driving is a necessary part of owning a large house in the suburbs. But I have seen suburbanites call a car service to take a group of them to dinner, so I know it’s possible.

Restrictions

Once guests have confirmed, ask them about their food restrictions. You’ll need this information before you start planning your menu. No sense in researching pizza dough recipes only to find out that Elaine’s husband has a severe gluten allergy. If your friends are vegetarians, make the meal vegetarian. If your friends are vegans, get new friends.

I use the word “restrictions,” which can mean allergies, vegetarianism (in its infinite forms), religious dietary beliefs, dislikes, political boycotts, and other reasons, both legitimate and illegitimate. Wanting to be polite, most people won’t list their dislikes, but they’ll mention it once the offending dish is on the table. “It’s funny that you made this porcini soup, because Jack just hates mushrooms,” Jack’s wife will say, rather than offering the information when it could have been helpful.

I had a guest tell me that he and his wife ate everything. Then the wife (because she was
cc
’d) reminded him that she was nine months pregnant and not eating raw foods, shellfish, or unpasteurized cheese. Be sure to ask both partners. Couples are notorious for speaking for each other and forgetting important details. This is why we
cc
people.

Guests will ask if there is anything they can bring. This is a big matzah ball, and I recommend tackling it now rather than at the last minute. If this is a potluck, then enjoy your anarchy.

The polite answer to this is, “You don’t
need
to bring anything.” Notice the emphasis on need. Of course, as the host, you wouldn’t dream of putting any demands on your guests other than that they enjoy themselves. In reality, no adult goes to a dinner party empty-handed. Everyone over twenty-five knows this.