I love giving dinner parties. Whether for 4 people or 40, I find the whole process both exhilarating and enjoyably stressful. With each one, I feel like I’ve learned new things, experienced small triumphs, and (thankfully, narrowly) avoided disaster. In that single, glimmering instant when my guests have begun their main courses and start to make sounds of appreciation, I feel a small rush of joy, something like what a chef must feel at the peak of dinner service on a Saturday night.
This coming Sunday evening, four people are going to walk through my door with hungry bellies and expectant faces. Which is why, after I work through a nagging list of To-Do’s, I’m going to sit down and work on my favorite part of any dinner party: the menu.
Since this will be a small, intimate gathering, I might attempt something more complex than would be wise with a larger group. I did a lot of cooking for my family as a teenager, and I still remember the lesson I learned from those days: Don’t try out a new recipe when company is coming to dinner! There were some spectacular failures back then, and my mother and I would laugh over them afterwards until tears came to our eyes. I was usually the one to blame, as I liked to page through our meager stash of cookbooks in search of a recipe that sounded faintly exotic.
For a long time, I stuck to that maxim, but now that I’m more confident in the kitchen, I feel like I can step out on a limb a little. I’ve been browsing through my favorite blogs in search of inspiration; I hunted back through the archives at SF Gourmet to read the notes that NS complied on his “Dinner Party Tour of Four-Star Restaurants,” even though I don’t intend to do anything half as spectacular as that. I’ve browsed through Sam’s posts on her various fetés, and Catherine's fun gatherings, and Molly's accounts of her home dining highlights.
Recent trips to Tajine have inspired thoughts of a Moroccan-themed menu; my favorite short ribs at Kitchen have made me wonder if I should try my own version. Memorable bites I’ve had at other people’s homes also factor in: a shallow bowl of crisp French carrots, like slender orange spears, dipped into lavender salt; a homemade lasagna, bubbling with cheese and tomato sauce.
If at all possible, I strive to create menus that don’t require me to be stuck in the kitchen for most of the evening. I want to be able to enjoy my guests and participate in the conversation without having to dash back to the stove every couple of minutes. Sometimes I accomplish this, and sometimes I don’t.
I’m not sure yet what I’ll make on Sunday, but I’m already enjoying my dinner party three days before it actually happens, and isn’t that nice?
