Food for Eating & for Thought

I threw a dinner party last month. Here's how it went.

On February 28th, in early anticipation of the spring season, I had an idea. Knowing that actual warm weather was probably a ways off, but feeling the pre-spring stirrings in the atmosphere - the same ones that wake bears up from hibernation, I can only imagine - I felt the need to do something (or multiple somethings) that would make it feel like spring inside my mind and soul.

I was beginning to shake off the snow (that never actually fell this year), reorienting myself to the calendar, taking stock of the people I somehow hadn’t seen in several weeks. How did I let those weeks go by? It was still dark out, but the sun was coming. What clearer sign of that than the approaching Spring Equinox - the actual, undeniable, counted by the Farmer’s Almanac, start of spring!

I decided to plan a Spring Equinox dinner party, and here’s how it went.

Step 1: Present the idea to Lexy, my lovely roommate.

Step 2: Wallow for a couple weeks because I really want to throw this party on the actual Spring Equinox so that it feels like kind of witchy. But March 20th was a Monday, and you know how people are about Mondays.

Step 3: Stop being unnecessarily particular and decide to just throw a spring dinner party instead of a Spring Equinox dinner party. It’s OKAY. It can be on March 30th.

Step 4: Design a cute paperless post to send out to your friends who you could easily text. Obviously, a physical invitation would be preferred, but we’re not planning a wedding here, and people don’t always check their mail these days. A paperless post is the next best thing. If you sacrifice on the envelope and/or backdrop, a lot of them are free. My design was not free because I wanted the background, but I did sacrifice the envelope -  brave of me, I know.

The big green bar is there so you can’t see my address - I wouldn’t want you questioning my design choices

Step 5 - Yay! Everyone can come! But wait. My kitchen table seats 4 people, and I just invited 10 over for dinner (that’s a grand total of 12 people). Hmmm.

Steps 6-19 : Find tiny little glasses at Circa (as mentioned previously, here) that I can put votive candles in. Aquire a large folding table from my sweet mom. Decide on the menu. Order two tablecloths from Amazon, which I know is lame, but I was working under a time constraint, and they turned out great. Then also order votive candles to put in my tiny glasses from Circa. And order tapers cause I’ll need some more of those. Ask my sweet downstairs neighbors, Kelly and Collins, if I can please steal all their chairs for the evening.  They say yes thank GOD. Off to the grocery store. Three grocery stores, actually. Then the bodega on the corner of Bleecker and 8th Ave for flowers. Oh and order the pies online so that sweet Lexy can pick them up on her way home, because there must be pies. They must be Peetee’s Pies. Get my sweet sister to bring over 8 dinner plates and 8 forks and 8 knives. Set the table. Put out the cheese plate(s) & don’t forget the taralli (the little round crackers in the pic below), AKA crack cocaine crackers.

Step 20: Cook dinner. Here’s what we made.

Pork tenderloin in my no measurements marinade:

I created this marinade using a compilation of different online recipes. I don’t have any of them to cite, it was so long ago. I know that’s poor form, but I really did kind of make it up. Here’s what’s in it:

Rough chopped OR thinly sliced garlic (dealer’s choice)
Rosemary
Thyme
Zest and juice of one lemon
Generous dollop of dijon mustard
Salt and pep
Enough olive oil that it will cover the meat
Mix all together in the bag, then put the tenderloin in for at least 1 hour (ideally longer).

Sear on all sides so it doesn’t look weird, then bake in the oven at 400°F for 20 min per pound until internal temperature reaches 145°F. Let sit for 10 minutes. You can also reverse sear, which is what I had to do this time because I made four pork tenderloins, so I just threw them straight in the oven because I was lazy. It looked so unappetizing without the sear, trust me.

This couscous Brussels sprout salad that I found on Instagram:

Linked but also, here’s the recipe written out by moi on my cute little recipe card for my recipe book.

You don’t need as much couscous as the recipe calls for. Half would probably be enough, but you definitely only need three quarters.

Lexy’s butter lettuce, radish, avocado salad with super shallot-y dressing:

Butter lettuce, radishes sliced on the mandolin (easily my favorite kitchen tool), and diced avocado.

But the real star was the dressing, described here in Lexy’s own words as she sits across from me on the couch:

“2 smallish medium shallots sliced on the mandolin. And I think I did olive oil and lemon. I actually think it was only olive oil, lemon and shallots. I might have added a vinegar, but it was extremely light. Shallot heavy. I didn’t immediately dress the salad, and think that because the shallot kind of sat in the dressing, it really soaked up the flavor. Oh and there was probably garlic in there. I can’t imagine making a salad dressing and not putting garlic in it. If you put shallots in a salad, people immediately think it’s more elevated. It has to be on the mandolin though.”

And as mentioned, pie from Peetee’s Pie:

Chocolate cream (my personal kryptonite) and apple. I meant to serve it a la mode, but I forgot. I also forgot to heat up the apple pie. No one cared - everyone loved it.

Which brings me around to the point I really want to make about this whole experience. The take aways. What I learned from it, if you will. Thanks for sticking around with me. Along with forgetting the ice cream or not heating up the pie, there were other things that I felt “went wrong.” Because the table jutted out into the living room, there wasn’t much seating for people before dinner. I told everyone we would eat at 8, but we didn’t eat until 8:45. We had to wash the cheese plate(s) to have enough plates for dessert.

All of these things caused me a great deal of worry internally, but no one else cared. People stood around and chatted or pulled out chairs. They were more than happy to do that for an extra 45 minutes until the food was ready, because they were enjoying each other’s company. The ten minute dessert delay caused by the washing of plates was not noticed at all, or quickly forgotten once pie appeared on the table. It’s good to remember that the little things that “go wrong” aren’t worth stressing over.

Of course, some level of stress is unavoidable. I realize, writing this out and reading it over that it all sounds like a lot of work. I wish that I could recount my efforts nonchalantly and say, “Oh this? This was so easy. I don’t know why we aren’t all throwing dinner parties multiple times a week!” But that would be a lie - it was a lot of work, and I understand why it has to be a once in a while thing.

At the same time though, in the grand balancing act of life, the amount of work that had to be done (by me and the many who helped me in small and large ways), was infinitesimal compared to the pay off. It was one day of frantic running around. And in return, I’m able to say that I brought people together for an evening, and we sat together and talked and ate good food. Good food that I mostly made with my own two hands (humble brag), in my own home. For me, it is the pinnacle of happiness: to look at my friends across the dinner table while they laugh and share a meal that I was able to provide. What could possibly, possibly be better in the moment - or of higher value in the long run - than nights like this one? It sounds cheesy (like I so often do these days), but it’s the truth.

And FYI, if anyone is inspired, the Summer Solstice is on June 21st, which is a Wednesday. Not as good as a Thursday, but certainly better than a Monday when it comes to convincing people to come to your dinner party!