I hosted a dinner party last night and my friends asked me how I pulled it off all by myself. I told them about ESC and said I just kinda had it down to a science after cooking for 6-9 people every other-ish week for the past 2 years…. But it took a little reflection to parse out what that “science” actually consisted of, so I thought I’d document it here.
I won’t repeat the tips you can find pretty much anywhere from caterers like Ina Garten or Martha Stewart (working ahead, choosing dishes that can be reheated, etc.) And I won’t go through the habits I’ve adopted from chefs either, like mise on place, but here’s a nice rundown from one of my favorite Korean food vloggers and her pro-chef partner, if you’re interested. I’ll just list a few tricks that work for me personally. Hint: it’s mostly about managing expectations.
- I usually have a theme of some kind for the menu; that just makes it easier to pick recipes, dinnerware, music, etc., and it creates a sense of cohesion that relaxes guests and makes the evening feel like an event. It can be as simple as pulling an ingredient like lemon through the menu, or as standard as “Italian night,” or as practical as cooking everything on the grill so you don’t have to heat up the house in the summer and can hang out with your guests while you cook.
- I start a minimum of 2 days ahead of a dinner party with grocery shopping, cleaning (including napkins!) and prepping (including menus and anything else I might need for the theme). Dinner parties always take longer and more work than I think, and I’d rather burn a half hour drinking a glass of wine and playing some Zelda before my guests arrive than have them find me scrambling around unshowered in a chaotic kitchen b/c I cut it too close.
- On that note, my advice is to plan the menu so that everything except at most 1 dish (like an appetizer or salad) can be made ahead of time and held somewhere for service (stove, countertop, or fridge). This is the biggest mistake I made in the early days of hosting dinner parties—not staggering the cooking sufficiently and having to to finish several dishes at the same time as my guests were arriving.
- Also, ESC excluded, I generally plan 0-1 “showstopper” recipes—i.e., ones that take days to make or are really chef-y. There’s no reason to include a showstopper unless your guests are foodies, in which case it can serve as a nice conversation piece. (On this point, I highly recommend lomo al trapo; it’s a total showstopper that takes very little prep and cooks in 20 minutes!)
- I give myself a day or two to clean up after a dinner party. Once in a blue moon I punch out all the cleanup before I go to bed, but I’m usually not in the mood. So, I’ll put food away and run one load of dishes in the dishwasher before I go to bed, and the next day I’ll do the hand dishes and run another dishwasher load, wipe everything down, etc. Pacing cleanup has made dinner parties much more sustainable for me.
- However, I do elect not to make my life easier at the expense of my guests’ experience (and the environment). Sure, I could use paper plates and plastic utensils, or I could stick to dinnerware that can be put in the dishwasher. But guests love using the family silver or sipping a cocktail from a gilt-rimmed blown crystal Collins glass; it makes them feel special and appreciated, which they are. And as long as I’m not feeling rushed and exhausted (see above), I find hand washing heirloom pieces meditative; it gives me a chance to admire their workmanship and remember the family lore behind them.
- Most importantly, relax and go with the flow of the evening. I’ve learned the hard way that the only sure-fire way to ruin a dinner party is to get so stressed out—rushing around the kitchen as if I’m an extra on The Bear, herding everyone to the table like a border collie, or tearing my hair out over an overcooked chicken or underbaked cake—that my guests feel like they’ve imposed on me by coming over for dinner. If the host is having a good time, that sets the mood for the evening.
The Rookery 