I recently had a dinner party to celebrate the arrival of spring after a particularly rough Minnesota winter, and also to celebrate the fact that all my neighbors were out of town, so I could crank the stereo way up to 4. (I’m a Real Wild Child.) The party was delightful, and the next day my friend Emily posted this to Facebook.
Gorgeous, right? I love it, and I love her for posting it, and I love that our circle of friends includes people who can name-drop Pearl Mesta. But here is what that picture proves.
The Internet is Lies.
Not entirely, of course. That’s actually my house, and that’s my decorative handiwork, and those are my decopaged styrofoam eggs hanging from the chandelier. But what you DON’T see in that magazine-worthy post is the fact that when Emily and her date rang the doorbell to attend this picture-perfect affair, I looked like this.
There was a slight confusion about when the party started. But when you’re browning potatoes at the oven in an apron, rollers, and dirty Minnesota Twins t-shirt, and the doorbell rings, there’s nothing for it but to hold your head high and welcome your guests. And accept that you are the Hostess with the Almost-est.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love being called The Hostess with the Mostest. And I do actually think I throw a pretty crackerjack party. But I’m also aware of the bumbling ridiculousness that is my Signature Hostessing Style. And even when I think I’ve got everything well and truly under control, it bubbles to the surface in the most surprising ways…a “forgotten ingredient” here, a “shattered crockpot full of bacon jam that flew all over the floor, upholstery and window panes just as the first guest arrived” there. It’s sort of my thing, and this party was no exception. Here are a few quick examples.
I decided to make an appetizer of artichoke leaves and dip. Classy, right? I tell you, I’ve never been beaten by a vegetable before, but I did not emerge from my artichoke encounter victorious. It was like eating limpid flower petals, but without the fun of eating actual flower petals. Now, an easy way to avoid this problem would have been to try the recipe ahead of time. An ounce of prevention and all that. But I prefer a pound of cure, so I just asked one of my guests to pick up a box of crackers on their way over. Problem solved!
The first course was a crab and avocado cocktail. So fancy! The recipe (by the same folks who claimed artichokes were easy) said to top each serving with a single crab leg. Well, I went to the seafood shop, and it turns out crab legs are gigantic! Like, foot-long gigantic. I asked the Fishmonger-Who-Looked-Just-Like-Jerry-Garcia for a suggestion, and he said they had frozen claws, which might work, but that for 6-8 guests, it would cost about $150, so I decided to just top each serving with love. I didn’t ask, but Jerry Garcia also told me that crabs are cannibalistic, and that’s why they don’t get them live; because by the time they make it to Minnesota, they’ve eaten each other’s heads off. May I recommend Coastal Seafood for both fish AND Fun Party Trivia?
I firmly believe in party favors. Sending your guests away with a little treat is a sure way to make sure they remember you for at least another day or two. Due to a farm share I get that includes salsa, applesauce, and the like, I’m currently lousy with mason jars. I figured I’d one-two punch it, by passing off my clutter to my friends in the guise of a gift. I went to the store and bought 6 different kinds of candy eggs, thinking what a pretty layered effect the different varieties would make in the jar. Turns out all candy eggs look pretty much the same. Turns out they all roll onto the floor and under the fridge pretty much the same too…
I decided to make the shortcake in a bundt pan. Now, even I could foresee the disaster on this one. Getting a cake out of a bundt pan is tricky on the best of days, but fortunately, it came out like a dream. What I didn’t factor in is that shortcake dough is thicker than cake batter, and holds its shape better, so I probably should have smoothed the top before I put it in the oven. I didn’t, so the cake looked like it was nibbled by a band of ravenous possums. But that’s okay. A pint of strawberries and a couple of ceramic bunnies hide a whole host of evils.
And then there were the party games. People don’t play parlor games much anymore, but I think they really add to the festivity. Plus, then you can have prizes! After much research for an appropriate spring game, I came across a Rainbow Game in Dame Curtsey’s Book of Novel Entertainments for Every Day in the Year (©1907). Dame Curtsey suggested that I attach ribbons in the colors of the rainbow to my gas jet (again, ©1907), and then make a cobweb of them ending at a pot of gold-foil wrapped candies. Each guest gets a ribbon, and whoever works through the tangled web first gets the prize. Fun, right? It probably would have been, had I realized before about 4 pm that I had neither gold wrapped candies, nor enough ribbon of ANY color to make a web. So I had to come up with a last minute game. I mean, I already had a potted plant for a prize, so someone had to win it. What to do? Well, let me tell you, friends, THIS is where I actually hit my stride. Turns out I AM the Hostess with the Mostest once in a while. Why, I Mostest-ed it right out of the ballpark, because we had an Indoor Scavenger Hunt!
Each guest drew a plastic egg that was filled with 5 items (something green, something that starts with M, something with an animal on it, etc.) I stood in the dining room waiting to check them off as they returned with their items, and because they are adults, they had to put the things back where they got them before moving on to the next item. (Which they MOSTLY did. I did find the paper clip jar in the Rumpus Room windowsill, but close enough…) I tell you, you don’t know how much fun a party can be until you see your poised and dapper friend Grant running down the hall like a maniac, cradling your KitchenAid mixer and screaming “Something Heavy! Something Heavy!” It was so fun that they kept trading eggs until everyone had completed every list, and we kept upping the stakes by making more rooms off limits, and by the end, everyone was so sweaty from running and laughing they all decided to go cool off on the porch while I sliced the strawberries for the shortcake.
And that’s what people remember from a party, and why they truly believe you are the Hostess with the Mostest. They remember the Novel Entertainments: Scavenger Hunts, Limpid Flower Petals, Hostesses in Rollers. Not the perfect place settings (which weren’t perfect anyway, turns out I don’t have 6 of ANYTHING.)
“Then, why didn’t you take pictures of those things???” you ask with rightful indignation. Well, I tried to take them! But I used a camera instead of my phone, and the day after the party I found that none of the pictures I took got saved. On the plus-side, I do for some reason have 8 variations of this photo of the underside of my bookshelf.
And now it’s lunchtime, so I’m off to see if I can find any more candies under the fridge… Happy Spring, from the Hostess with the Almost-est!!!
