I get this a lot so I’m sharing my secrets to being the host everyone wants an invitation from.
First off, it’s costly. I get my residence professionally cleaned because I know how nosey I am in someone’s bathroom and feel the need to operate on the defensive. I mean if there’s bodily functions left behind on one’s toilet, how are you gonna keep their soup down?
Next stop … the liquor store. It’s imperative to have all of your bases covered. It’s not as easy as chilling a bottle of chardonnay. The wine list alone can add up to a few hundred bucks. The red wines alone could cost that much for a dinner party of ten. Then you gotta be prepared for that neanderthal that drinks beer. Ughh. Bring your own. Then there’s the hard stuff; gin, vodka, single malt scotch, blended scotch, rum, bourbon and because nothing starts a party off on the right foot more than a dry martini, that otherwise useless bottle of vermouth. But that’s not all. Lemons, limes, olives. Club soda, tonic water, Diet Coke and just plain old sparkling water. Then the after dinner drinks. Here you get to call the shots as just one choice shall be offered. Cognac or brandy are staples, but if some jokester asks for a shot of peppermint schnapps just ignore them. They’ll be so hammered at this juncture they won’t retaliate.
Now you’re probably wondering if food figures into the dinner party. It does to an extent but it’s certainly not the make it or break it item. Easiest is Prime Rib. You basically do nothing to prepare it other than taking out a loan to purchase one. Asparagus. It’s the vegetable people feel obliged to love to maintain any sort of social status. Plus when your guest gets home and pees, they get a reminder of what a wonderful party they just attended. The gift that keeps on giving. Starch? In my household it’s only Armenian Rice Pilaf. Few people have ever had it so they have nothing to compare mine to. Plus I’m Armenian. Plus I’ve been making it since I was three. Oh and a salad. Spinach leaves only. Nothing that crunches and olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette dressing. (You do have to physically mix the two so stop just short of developing tennis elbow shaking all those introductory martinis. You’ll need that elbow later.) As for plating the Prime Rib pick someone else to do it, probably the beer drinker. And under no circumstances do you serve gravy in a gravy boat. Why not just throw a squeezable bottle of Heinz on the table?
Now about that table. Let people sit where they want. There’s nothing worse than pigeon holing your guest list into mandatory seating. You must have charger plates (look it up) a dinner plate and a salad plate, colorful yet understated cloth napkins in shiny napkin rings. No wood rings please. That’s south of the Mason-Dixon line crap. Always set two wine glasses per person. What goes in them? Usually nothing but it gives your table setting some height and glitz. Wash them first unless you drink so heavily in your spare time that your stock is always glistening.
Low lighting, soft classical music, lit candles and voila. Let happy hour last at least three hours or until a guest claims they’re sugar shocking. Avoid political discussions unless all guests are on your side of the coin, then bash away. A television set is a real social zapper. Pack it away. If you spot someone (again likely the beer drinker) watching a game on their phone ask them to leave. They can take one fresh can of beer as a parting gift. As for the others, just returning their coat is gift enough. Hell, they’ll barely remember your name as it is.
But the next time you throw a party they’ll be sure to RSVP.