There are few sayings more Kiwi than "Ladies, bring a plate". It's a saying likely to confound newcomers, many of whom interpret it, quite sensibly, to mean bring an actual plate. Perhaps the hostess is short of dishes, is their rationale.
There are few traditions more likely to put me off an event than a request to bring a plate. As a born-and-bred local, I understand this means that guests must bring a plate of food to share with others. Everything about it smacks of amateurishness. There are occasions for which "Bring A Plate" is ideally suited: if there are huge crowds to feed or if the attendees are keen cooks eager to show off their latest creation. But all too often it's employed as a default setting for hosts in possession of little enthusiasm for the forthcoming event.
The moment I'm asked to bring a plate I realise that this little get-together is unlikely to turn out to be the night of my dreams. I don't want to eat a random selection of food that has little cohesion, no core concept. For some reason, I don't really want to travel to a venue with a plate of food balanced precariously on my knee either. A "Bring A Plate" occasion is usually followed up by complicated arrangements about how to reunite the plates with their owners. It's the event that keeps on giving.
When I host a function, "Ladies, please don't bring a plate" is my instruction to guests who ask. It's my place; I'll do the food. And, surely, if it's your place then you'll do the food. This logical approach only fails if there are people who are known for attending functions but never hosting them. It is such freeloaders for whom the entire "Bring A Plate" concept was devised in the first place.
Plates can also be problematic in restaurants. Here are five ways that simple crockery can cause consternation.
