Having people over doesn’t have to be stressful, time-consuming or expensive. Photo / 123rf
Having people over doesn’t have to be stressful, time-consuming or expensive. Photo / 123rf
The mindset should be: Less fuss, more fun with company.
For years, whenever I invited people over for a meal, it was a Big Production. I favoured showstopping dishes, such as bo ssam or sides of poached salmon with elaborate mousseline sauces. Even regular dinner parties sometimes had themes.
Isweated the small stuff. Once, I found myself scraping a frozen block of fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice with a spoon to make a granita, a process that left me and my tiny kitchen covered in a sticky shower of pulp just minutes before guests were expected to arrive.
While that extreme style had its pleasures (and I reserve the right to pull out the culinary stops if the mood strikes), these days I’m way more laid back. A few weeks ago, when my husband and I had friends over for cocktails, we served nothing to eat but pigs in blankets, whose provenance involved little effort on my part – apart from pulling them out of the grocery store freezer case. Old Me would have been horrified, but my now-chill self just had more time to spend with our guests rather than fussing in the kitchen.
This summer, I’m resolving to do even more of that kind of low-key hosting. One reason is that restaurant prices continue to rise. Every time I suggest meeting friends out for dinner, I’m wondering how large a percentage of our monthly mortgage the bill will be. The experience is often less relaxing than I want: I find myself eyeing the menu, mentally doing the math on ordering another glass of wine, or worrying that my friends are feeling uncomfortable, too.
But not being able to dine out as frequently shouldn’t mean we don’t get to spend time eating with friends, which is truly one of life’s best joys. And having people over is an antidote to the feeling that people are less social and more isolated than ever, which may be an unwelcome holdover from our pandemic solitude. The key is a mindset shift, one I admit I’m still working on myself. We have to forget a lot of what we think it means to “entertain”.
For so long, I figured I was showing my guests care and love by making extra-special food and setting a lovely table. Surely, my thinking went, my guests would feel the labour that went into the elaborate meals I prepared – not because I wanted them to be impressed or thankful, just that I wanted them to know they mattered.
But I’ve come to realise that effort on a host’s part does not necessarily correlate to impact on her guests. These days in particular, I think people feel grateful for the simple gift of having someone else cook for them – no matter what they’re served.
Having people over doesn’t have to be stressful, time-consuming or expensive. Here are a few strategies for making it something we could all do a little more often.
Have a formula
One way to make cooking for others easier is to have go-to dishes – or entire menus. So often, we think we need to make something novel for our friends. But consider how freeing it is to put dishes that you know and love on repeat.
Here’s my go-to formula (though I encourage you to come up with your own, made up of easy and familiar dishes): I make the same snacks for anyone who comes to our house – choosing from devilled eggs, cheese straws, a simple smoked-trout dip and candied pecans – using recipes I could practically make with my eyes closed.
This Greek Lentil and Spinach Soup With Lemon has been a hit at casual dinner gatherings. Photo / Tom McCorkle; Food styling by Lisa Cherkasky, The Washington Post
For the meal, I go with a big pot of soup and serve it with crusty bread. I usually choose a soup that’s hearty enough to be the main dish but includes enough vegetables so that I don’t even fuss with a salad or other sides. I vary the soup based on the season: When I had my colleagues on the Food team over this winter, I made a Persian tomato-lentil version. For girlfriends this spring, I served this flexible minestra, opting for white beans and a bunch of seasonal greens. Gazpacho would be perfect for a summer gathering. I’ve made this fantastic Greek lentil and spinach recipe for several get-togethers. (Hey, if it was good enough for one guy to bring to work every day for 17 years, my friends won’t mind having it a couple of times a year.)
I usually serve a store-bought dessert, but sometimes, I’ve found that it’s even faster than a trip to the store (and usually less expensive!) to throw together a brownie, whose ingredients I typically have around. That’s dinner, done – rinse and repeat.
Forget being fancy
Here’s a radical idea for keeping things simple: just make more of whatever you were already going to make for yourself or your family. Is that spaghetti and sauce from a jar? Chicken nuggets? Tacos? A big salad? Just double up.
Hosting doesn’t have to be expensive, either. One of the best ways to keep costs down is by skipping pricey meats. Meatless options abound, after all. I have a friend who frequently serves a big pot of beans and rice that everyone loves, and this summer, I might swap my usual soup-and-bread routine for a big tangle of pasta with vegetables.
Don’t stress about your house
Having a spotless house is not a requirement for opening your doors. Really, no one is judging your dust bunnies. If you have them, use dimmers, which offer mood lighting and concealment of less-than-white-glove-ready surfaces.
When you’re setting the table, you don’t need flowers or even linens. Would these things be nice? Sure, and if you have even a little greenery to snip and pop in a vase, that would be festive. But it isn’t necessary, no matter what Martha says.
Put yourself in your guests’ shoes
If you feel intimidated about inviting people over for a meal, or if you worry that you aren’t putting on a sufficiently impressive spread, just imagine that the roles are reversed: you are going to a friend’s home and they’re going to fix you dinner.
What if it was hot dogs and beans from a can? You would probably be delighted. What if you spotted dog fur on your host’s sofa – would you be insulted? Of course not. We’re always harder on ourselves than we are on others.