Category: Entertaining

I'd been squirreling food away for about a week, so when it came to pre T-Day Wednesday, I just felt like everything had gone a little too smoothly. We cooked til 1 a.m., brining the turkey, preparing the pies, cleaning the vegetables and baking the dressing. On Thanksgiving Day, I had momentary anxiety about not having enough food, and I considered making a butternut squash soup amuse bouche (I've got an idea in my head and will hopefully be experimenting with a recipe later today). Doug, ever the voice of reason, convinced me that we would have enough food even without the turkey.

I have to say, I'm really loving this whole dinner party thing. Doug got me a gorgeous set of champagne glasses for my birthday, and we used his china set. Now that everything (or almost everything) is sparkly and clean, I can't wait for the next one. It was a remarkably civilized affair for NYC. My friends joke that coming out to our house is like going out to the country, but I love that. We ate dessert and had coffee (in matching cups and saucers!) by the crackling fire.

My thoughts on dinner parties:

- It's always lovely to start with a few bottles of sparkling wine. If you're a guest, it's always friendly to bring a bottle of sparkling wine. It doesn't have to be champagne. I'm going to do a run down of my favorite cheap sparklers in time for the holidays.

- I leave the fancy footwork to restaurant chefs. When I'm having a dinner party, I want to maximize time with my guests and minimize time spent with fussy foods that require too much of my attention. Make ahead, clean ahead.

- Set the table before hand and put out a few hors d'oeuvres. I didn't get around to doing hors d'oeuvres this time, but I will next time. Most of the time, your guests arrive before the food is completely done. Cheese and crackers, maybe some olives, are perfectly sufficient. You have to give them something to do besides drink and get wasted before they can appreciate your culinary skills. This is also important when you have guests who don't know each other very well.

- Water is as important as wine. It should be on the table, at the very least as a reminder for the drinkers that water is an option that should be taken every once in a while. Over the summer, I made the mistake of having three open bottles of red wine, free flowing prosecco, lemon drops, but no readily available water at the dinner table. One of our guests passed out sitting up at the dining table after the rest of my high tolerance friends had retired to the living room. My fault.

- Make your dinner music mixes beforehand, and make them for at least three hours. Have one mix for cooking (I like rock, R&B singalongs), one mix for dinner (cheery, gentle music in languages I don't understand), one mix for after dinner (maybe something upbeat to keep people from lapsing into food coma) and one mix for the drunken dance party (always the mark of a successful dinner party; this mix can also be a repeat of your cooking music).

- Have coffee and tea available at the end of the meal. My guests usually have a long way to travel before they get home. It's a civilized way to end the meal. And since you haven't gotten ALL the dishes dirty yet, coffee service will put you over the top.

UPDATED: In case you were wondering, here was our menu:

Turkey -- brined in the style of Chez Panisse. Came out great! Highly recommended. Next time I'll add more herbs to the butter I stuff under the skin (not in the recipe, but I believe in gilding the lily.)

Mashed potatoes -- mix of russets and yukon golds, lots of cream and butter and roasted garlic. No skins.

Mesclun with mint, chives, roasted beets, lemon vinaigrette -- all local vegs.

Gravy -- made with pan drippings by Doug.

Roasted brussels sprouts -- olive oil, salt and pepper, 400 degrees for 40 minutes, from the Greenmarket

Jerusalem artichoke gratin -- from the Paffenroths

Potato bread dressing -- simple, with celery, onion, stock and egg for added richness

Wild rice dressing -- made by my friend Miho, chock full of shiitake mushrooms, almonds, chestnuts, apple, dried apricots, rosemary, thyme, parsley, and three kinds of rice. Really amazing and deservedly famous.

Sweet potato pie and pecan pie with Godiva liqueur whipped cream -- made by Doug, Cook's Illustrated recipe

Prosecco, champagne, many red wines.

This weekend I got to hang out with so many great couples in varying states of commitment -- some married, some engaged, some living together -- and it made me pine a little, which is not something I usually do. I'm very productive when I'm single, and I love being productive. I rarely feel lonely. But occasionally I see beautiful couples and I envy the fact that when they get tired, they'll slip away, two by two, close the door behind them and slide into bed together, recapping the day to each other until they fall asleep.

Even as a teenager, I felt like being in a relationship was never going to be my natural state. I've never been good at compromise -- I either want to give it all away or have it all. I can honestly say I've never seen myself as a bride. I love the idea of romance, but I don't think it will happen for someone as aggressively independent and good at being alone as I am.

So if relationships, children, and all the trappings of family life will never materialize for me, I'd like to realize my single woman's dream. I want to be the kooky New York aunt with a million good stories. If my nest will always be empty, then I want to fill my life with gorgeous noise and grand music. Sometimes I dream of being an independently wealthy domesticate, throwing dinner parties for -- what did the Sunday Styles call it? -- the cultural aristocracy; playing hostess to the literati; being the literati.

I was so happy to be sitting at this picnic table with my friends, folding dumplings for the next day's lunch. I can't even tell you how happy it made me, how in the moment I am in this picture. My latest dream is to land some sort of moderate book deal, buy a big house in the country outside New York and stay there to write all summer long. My friends could visit in a steady stream every weekend, provided they come bearing groceries, Pimm's, and prosecco. I'd have an herb garden, alpine strawberries, radishes and lettuces for salads. Then I'd winter somewhere warm, maybe in Thailand or Brazil, eating tropical fruit for breakfast every day. I'd write all week long, on a laptop, laying out on an adirondack chair.

Am I so bourgie or what? Is my earnestness giving you hives? Mock me if you must. We all need something to live for.

On Saturday, eight of us were splayed on a pair of blankets on the lawn, soaking up the dappled morning sunshine, when Heej and Francis brilliantly suggested making Pimm's. After about an hour more of laying about, Heej, Blaise, Sarah & I piled into the car and drove into town in search of Pimm's and fixings.

We came back from our mission hungry and thirsty. All the boys and two newly arrived guests were lounging out by the pool. Heej mixed up a batch of Pimm's with the one bottle I had gotten at the store. The four ladies wound up gulping down two tall glasses each. Let me tell you something, there is nothing more refreshing, civilized and drinkable on a hot summer day. It's the kind of thing you can sip all day and maintain a nice, pleasant buzz for eight hours straight. And I'm not just saying that 'cause I'm an alcoholic.

I got to work on cooking up our lunch, homemade pork gyoza and boiled shrimp dumplings. Thank God we had wrapped the dumplings and frozen them the day before -- after two long glasses of Pimm's, I don't think I could have handled cooking anything more complicated. Only then did we begrudgingly bring the rest of the Pimm's pitcher, along with small glasses with too much ice and platters of dumplings, to the revelers by the pool.

That Pimm's was so pitch perfect with our poolside lunch that it was gone in about 15 minutes. We wound up going back to the wine shop in town and basically buying out the last five bottles from the amazing Hudson Wine Merchants. Next shipment doesn't come in til Tuesday. Sorry, Hudson.

There are people in the Hamptons and elsewhere spending a lot more money on the summer weekends to sit at fancier pools in fancier houses eating fancier food with fancier people. But they can't possibly be having as much as fun as we were.

Pimm's Cup

This is the perfect daytime party punch. Make some in a big sun tea pitcher and sneak it into Prospect Park for one of the Bandshell concerts. All you have to do is pre-slice the garnish and add it to large dixie cups with ice. Pimm's has an herbal, not too sweet flavor that's perfect for sipping on a hot day. We added mint from the garden.

1 bottle of Pimm's No. 1
1 bottle ginger ale
Ice
Thinly sliced lemon
Sliced strawberries
Thinly sliced cucumber
Fresh mint, bruised

Mix Pimm's and ginger ale in a pitcher. Fill each glass with ice, a slice of lemon, a slice of cucumber, a few slices of strawberry, and three bruised mint leaves, then pour Pimm's and ginger in. Gulp and cool down.

Boiled Shrimp and Watercress Dumplings

Making dumplings is actually part of the eightfold path to Buddhist enlightenment. Confucius say it's also a good activity for sitting around and gossiping. Fresh dumpling wrappers are easier to work with than defrosted previously frozen ones. You can get fresh wrappers at most stores in Chinatown (try the Vietnamese shop by the Grand St. D or B stop). Folding dumplings is pretty easy, but it would be easier to demo on video and I'm not that high-tech...yet. Anyway, if you can't figure out how to do it, just put the filling in the middle, fold the circle in half, seal the half-moon with water and press it together. I won't judge you.

1 lb. shrimp, shelled and deveined
1/2 bunch watercress, chopped (about 2 cups)
1/2 cup chopped garlic chives
2 scallions, sliced thinly
2 tbsp. minced ginger
1 tbsp. minced garlic
salt and pepper
1 tbsp. sesame oil
flour for plate or tupperware
1 package thin yellow dumpling wrappers

Chop the shrimp coarsely. Add the watercress, garlic chives, scallions, ginger, garlic, salt, pepper, and sesame oil and mix with your clean hand. Place about a teaspoon of filling in the center of the dumpling skin, fold dumplings and seal well; line them up in a single layer on a floured plate or tupperware. Freeze until ready to cook. Makes about 30 dumplings.

When ready to cook, boil large pot of water. Boil dumplings in batches until the dumplings float and are cooked through, about three minutes. Serve immediately with dipping sauce. You can also boil the dumplings and serve in chicken broth, the way they do at Sweet n' Tart in Chinatown.

Pork Gyoza

These can also be boiled instead -- just remember to seal them well if you're boiling them.

1/4 small head of cabbage
2 lbs. ground pork
1 cup chopped garlic chives
1 cup thinly sliced scallions
3 tbsp. minced ginger
2 tbsp. minced garlic
2 tbsp. sesame oil
3 tbsp. soy sauce
flour for plate or tupperware
2 packages of white gyoza/dumpling wrappers
Oil
Water

Boil the cabbage until just tender, maybe 5 minutes. Rinse under cold water. Squeeze as much water as you can out of the cabbage. Finely chop the cabbage. Add the pork, garlic chives, scallions, ginger, garlic, sesame oil, soy sauce. Mix with your clean hand, squishing and squeezing the meat mixture between your fingers. Place about a teaspoon of filling in the center of the gyoza skin, fold the dumplings, line them up on a floured plate or tupperware in a single layer, and freeze until ready to cook.

When you're ready to cook them, heat up a thick-bottomed frying pan with a lid on medium heat -- cast iron, All-Clad saute pan, and nonstick would all work well. Add a tbsp. of oil and swish it around to cover the bottom of the pan. Place your gyoza in single file rows of five in the pan so they sit up with the folds perpendicular to the pan bottom. Add 1/2 cup of water to the pan so there's about 1/8 of an inch of water in the bottom of the pan and cover. Steam the gyoza, covered and undisturbed, until the water has evaporated and the oil has begun to fry the bottoms. Check after about 5 minutes -- the dumpling bottoms should come off the pan easily and be a nice, crunchy golden brown. Get a nice long spatula and slip it under a row of gyoza in a single motion motion. Flip the row onto the serving plate so the crunchy bottoms are face up and repeat til done. Serve immediately with dipping sauce. Makes about 60 dumplings, which is enough for anywhere between 4-8 people, depending on whom you're serving.

Dumpling dipping sauce

Hot sesame oil is called rayu in Japanese. You can get it at Sunrise Mart or any Japanese market. I like the one that comes in a tiny red bottle with a button you press that gives you a few drops out of the spout -- I think it's House brand.

1 part soy sauce
1 part rice vinegar
A few drops (or more) of hot sesame oil

Mix and serve on small individual sauce dishes.

Nano and jasmine ricePasta was being cooked in Italy long before Marco Polo returned from his forays to the Orient. But how did rice make its way into the Italian kitchen? Perhaps we can thank Islam. According to the Oxford Food Companion, "Rice cooked in clarified butter is said to have been the favourite dish of the Prophet Muhammad." The Moors who worshipped him would have brought the grain with them through Sicily, Spain and North Africa.

Like so many delicious eats, risotto seems to have started out as a peasant food, a way to stretch the flavor of tasty ingredients with starch and stock. You wouldn't know it from the pricy truffle/saffron/porcini versions you find on many menus these days. That's why I love the simple elegance of this lemon risotto.

I started out with these two recipes: one from Epicurious and one from Jean-Georges Vongerichten. I used a basic vegetable stock made with leek tops, onion, carrots, garlic, bay leaf, thyme and parsley (a nod to the vegetarian guest). I couldn't find Meyer lemons; the dish was pretty stellar anyway. It's unfussy, rich and super creamy with a gorgeous brightness. I made the risotto, from mise en place to plating, in about 25 minutes, while my guests were finishing their cocktails and bruschetta. That sounds like a long time but it's really not, as long as your friends can entertain themselves.

Here's an interesting article which talks about the different kinds of rice you can try in risotto. I used Vialone Nano rice (pictured above), a very short, rotund grain rice which is great for creamy risottos.

Lemon Risotto

Serves 8 first-course servings

A huge pot of vegetable or chicken stock (10 cups)
Butter
Olive Oil
1 leek, minced white and lightest green parts
2 shallots, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
Zest and juice of 2 lemons
1 3/4 cups of nano or carnaroli rice
1/2 cup vermouth or dry white wine
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup grated parmigiano reggiano, plus more for the table
3 tbsp. minced chives

Simmer the stock on low on one of your back burners. Heat up your large saute pan. Add a hunk of butter and a few glugs of olive oil. When the butter has melted and the foam subsided, add your minced leek, shallots, and garlic. Sweat them for a few minutes until they're soft and translucent. Add your dry rice to the pan and saute the rice grains for two minutes until the edges of the grains go clear and the center glows bright white. Add the vermouth all at once and stir one minute til absorbed.

Add your hot stock 2 ladles at a time. Stir the risotto slowly with a wooden spatula, making sure to scrape the edges of the pan and folding the rice into the middle. As the liquid starts to ooze and get absorbed by the rice, add two more ladles of stock. Repeat for about 17 minutes, testing the rice grains regularly after 12 minutes. As soon as the center of the rice is barely cooked through and not raw in the center, add another ladle of stock if needed, give it a stir and turn the heat off. Your risotto should be creamy but a little soupy, the consistency of clam chowder. It will continue to cook as you prepare it for serving. Add 3 tbsp. of the lemon juice, 2 tbsp. lemon zest, the mascarpone and parm, salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with a bit more of the lemon zest and chives. Serve PRONTO, with extra parmigiano grated at the table.

***

Incidentally, do not try and use Pacific vegetable broth in a box for this dish. That shit is all kinds of nasty -- it tastes like watered down, rancid bloody mary mix, heavy on the celery seed. And it's reddish orange. Yuck.

The problem: With all the gorgeous local produce coming into the Greenmarket, all you want to do is have a dinner party. But with the heat and the humidity, the last thing you want to do is to subject your friends to the sauna-like conditions of your a/c-less kitchen. (Do you have a/c in your common areas? Then you don't feel my pain and you don't need my help, lucky bastard.)

The solution: You need foods you can cook ahead and serve at room temperature. Besides, at a dinner party, when you don't have an in-house cook (which is probably the case if A. you read my blog and B. you don't have a/c, pobresito), the goal is to get out of the kitchen and into the dining room with your guests. It's no fun to have to listen to the conversation while chained to the stove. Here's an elegant summer menu that's light, colorful, incredibly easy, impressive, and will get you out of the kitchen.

On the table: French breakfast radishes with fatty French butter and sea salt
First course: Bruschetta
Entree: Slow cooked salmon with blanched asparagus and lemon
Fresh strawberries with whipped cream

Slow cooked salmon

I got this recipe from the Chez Panisse Cafe cookbook. It's an incredibly easy, set it and forget it kind of recipe that tastes a lot fancier than it has any right to taste. It'd be great to bring to a party since it requires no reheating.

4-4.5 lb. salmon fillet (wild king salmon if you can afford it)
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Handful of basil leaves
1 lemon
2 shallots

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Put a pan of water on the lowest rack of the oven to humidify it. Spread some olive oil on the bottom of a baking sheet. Place the fillet on the baking sheet. Rub it with olive oil, salt and pepper. Chop a handful of basil leaves, zest a lemon, and thinly slice 2 shallots; scatter over the fillet. Place in the oven and bake carelessly for 1 hour. Press the fillet with your finger -- it should be firm but still moist. Let cool to room temperature.

Serve with cold blanched, peeled asparagus (1 1/2 minutes in a sea of boiling salter water, then chucked into an ice bath), sea salt, and lemon wedges.

I served this at a dinner party chez nous last night. Our first course was bruschetta two ways using recipes from the Babbo cookbook (the chickpea and olive paste recipe can be found here; the other one, which was also shockingly good, was made with cubed roasted beets, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, basil leaves, chives, and parmigiano reggiano shavings). The second course, a rich lemon risotto, was delicious, but a mistake to try and make in our hot apartment. It was a bit of wishful thinking on my part. I'll post the recipe for you anyway, because La Doug said it was the star course of the evening.

For dessert, our strawberries came from the Yuno Farm stand in Friday's Union Square Greenmarket. I had originally planned to make a strawberry rhubarb cobbler, but these strawberries were so supremely sweet and perfect, it would have been blasphemous to fuck with them. All they needed was a quick rinse in the colander and a big bowl of chilled whipped cream.

To my friends whom I owe dinner (I'm looking at you Winnie and Chris), my dinner party season has just begun. You're invited over next, I swear.