Seven tips for a stress-free dinner party

The best dinner parties are haphazard, filled with laughter, too much food and terrible late-night singing. Photo / 123RF

If I were to list the things I would miss most should I be cast away to a desert island, close to the top (behind family and friends and proximity to good coffee) would be dinner parties. It sounds ridiculous – like something Margo Leadbetter would have said in The Good Life circa 1975 – but all I really mean is that I’d miss having my best people round for a lasagne and too much wine.

Judi Dench once said in an interview she is at her happiest when anticipating someone arriving, and I know exactly what she means. I’ve always loved that fizzy feeling that builds as you’re getting ready – lighting candles, getting the hodgepodge of wine glasses down, putting crisps in bowls.

For some reason, dinner parties have fallen out of fashion. Perhaps we’ve become intimidated by the idea of having to host an Instagrammable evening, perhaps we lost some of our hosting mojo somewhere in the pandemic. I blame the name - “dinner party” sounds ludicrously old-fashioned, like something that should be planned with military precision and executed with studied ease. I’m not sure a truly great dinner party has ever been either of those things.

The best nights are haphazard, filled with laughter, too much food and terrible late-night singing. I have always loved planning a menu but really, it’s just about getting good people around a table. If you’re in need of a bit of re-inspiration, here are my tips for saving your dinner party.

Master the art of ‘bits’

I know the word doesn’t immediately scream “glamour”, but “canapés” sound uptight, “snacks” sound like something you’d eat while driving, and I have one colleague who is allergic to the word “nibbles”, for which I don’t blame her. I have always called that spread of good things that all dinners should begin with “bits”. It’s the best way to start the evening, letting everyone graze while they sink their first glass of wine.

The great Diana Henry says it’s worth remembering that people appreciate you assembling delicious shop-bought things just as much as if you’d cooked every element yourself. I agree – there is nothing more enticing than a table laden with bowls of olives and crisps, a bunch of fuschia radishes to swipe through salty butter, torn hunks of bread and a little dish of peppery oil, a piece of cheese to be hacked away at.

"The great Diana Henry says it’s worth remembering that people appreciate you assembling delicious shop-bought things just as much as if you’d cooked every element yourself." Photo / Blackieshoot, Unsplash

Don’t actually cook more than one course

If you have a hankering to spend the day prepping a feast, go for it, but no one really needs to eat three courses. Instead, have everyone tuck into some bits, as above, then make a hearty main and let dessert be a self-assembly job. Inside, we are all just seven-year-olds wishing it was still acceptable to order a knickerbocker glory. Go forth and make your guests’ DIY ice cream sundae dreams come true.

Go hard on the carbs

Everyone is in it for the potatoes. This, I’m afraid, is an unimpeachable fact. You could spend hours lovingly marinating a piece of meat, shaving seasonal vegetables or making your own pickles – everyone is going to be coming back for the crispy potatoes, the mash, the dauphinoise. Make sure there is plenty of the beige stuff (be it potatoes, bread, pasta or rice) and you’ll send everyone away happy and full.

Themes are your friend

I’ll often pick a theme and then plan everything around it. A late summer dinner of roast chicken with fennel, lemon and aioli, followed by an apricot cake with thick cream; a French seaside night of mussels, chips and cider, then lacy crèpes and salted caramel sauce. A theme (and I’m not advocating fancy dress) can help anchor an evening.

Start with the one thing you really fancy and build out from there. Begin with a craving for tumblers of syrupy vermouth and olives and let it lead you to paella, followed by olive oil ice cream (either make your own or buy a tub of vanilla and top with a little good oil and flaky salt).

If people offer to bring something – let them!

There is no shame in accepting the offer of a pudding. People want to be useful. When they text to find out what they can bring, be specific. Ice, wine, dessert, the lemons you forgot to buy. Don’t be shy.

If your guests offer to bring something, let them. Photo / Alex Lvrs, Unsplash

Don’t overcomplicate pudding

In my humble opinion, cheese and chocolate beat pud any day. I’d sooner spend the tail end of the night turning from a plate of cheese to a bar of good-quality chocolate and back again ad infinitum rather than bother with dessert. Better still – and brace yourself for this bit of culinary prowess – freeze a box of After Eights for 40 minutes and you’ll have a stash of little choc-mint ices waiting in their sachets to make everyone’s evening.

Remember, it’s meant to be fun

Sometimes, dinner parties can go a bit Bridget Jones; from “already a legend” to blue soup in the space of a few hours. It’s at times like these that you need to remember these four words: pizza is your friend.

People just want to see you, not watch you frantically make them dinner, so if in doubt, mix a batch of martinis, order a load of pizzas, make a great salad (my failsafe is little gem lettuce, finely sliced spring onions, and a dressing of sour cream, fresh lime, honey, a little sherry vinegar, salt and olive oil). And, most importantly, remember that every great dinner party can be saved by karaoke. There is no overcooked chicken that a good rendition of Islands in the Stream can’t fix.

• Eleanor Steafel’s new book, The Art of Friday Night Dinner, is out now