I love a dinner party – absolutely adore them in fact – as long as it is not one of my own.
I have visions of myself as being this amazing hostess, waltzing around, topping up people’s glasses with the most magnificent “tablescape”. I have all of the necessary equipment, so many gorgeous napkins and tablecloths, but I just don’t have the follow-through. These dreamlike visions never materialise, mainly because I can’t be arsed, but also because I think being a fantastic hostess is something you’re either born with or you aren’t. And I wasn’t.
My mother-in-law is unbelievable. No stone will be left unturned. Her home is filled with chocolate Lindt balls. There will be a table plan, gorgeous food and you will leave feeling like you’ve just been treated to a five-star experience in a very expensive restaurant. She cooks the most amazing food and serves my favourite champagne. She will open the front door immediately handing over a chilled glass of fizz.
My own mother, on the other hand, can’t think of anything she’d rather do less than host. She is a batch cooker and I swear if her and my stepdad eat ratatouille once more they will turn into that dish.
So, if you’re a bit like me – here are some tips to avoid hosting:
Serve something inedible
My most successful dinner party was the one where I served “plasstaca”. It was meant to be moussaka but a fight with a new food blender meant the plastic that was meant to be removed was instead mashed up into my beef in tiny little pieces. The shame. My husband kindly tried to make it through but fearing for his health I had to bin it.
Jump on invites for elsewhere
My biggest fear is that someone will eventually ask me to host Christmas, so I just keep hoping to nab an invite somewhere else. If that all stops I reckon I’ll bring in the Christmas tradition of getting a takeaway for dinner. I’ve seen the stress of a Christmas dinner on my hosts’ faces; they certainly don’t have much cheer left by the time the dessert comes out.
Become the butt of the joke
I recently had pals over for what was meant to be “food and chill on the couch” watching TV, but it suddenly dawned on me that I had to organise a proper meal. Thankfully I had a fridge full of leftovers. There was some Bolognese, pesto chicken and fish fingers – a classy little team if you ask me.
As I placed all of my children’s uneaten meals and a salad I had whipped up on the counter, I quickly realised that my guests would be microwaving their own dinners. A microwave dinner is considered low-rent but I love them. Even Nigella Lawson owns a microwave, so it’s pretty much fine dining, in my mind.
My pals had a great laugh at my expense, but I gave them so much wine that I think they left happy although they won’t be chasing down another invite from me unless they can be assured it’s a takeaway.
I would like to point out that I’m not a bad cook but I’m mostly a children’s cook because that’s the kind of food that’s needed in my house. I did try to add red wine to my last Bolognese thinking my children’s taste buds were more mature, but it was left untouched and I found myself eating it for a week. I told you the batch cooking is in my genes.
My skills could improve with age but I don’t think I have the patience, to be honest. I still stick to my guns that a dinner party is a great night out as long as I have nothing to do with it.
Vogue Williams is a TV presenter and podcaster