Quarantine barbecue You can still entertain safely — and in person
Gingery grilled chicken thighs with charred peaches Grilled corn with jalapeño-feta butter
Here’s a maxim for entertaining in the age of COVID-19: The only way to bring people together is to figure out how to keep them apart.
So on a recent blue-skied afternoon, I stretched a tape measure to 6 feet while my husband, Daniel, arranged chairs and folding TV tables in our narrow Brooklyn backyard. We had just enough room for seven people in a distanced oval: four guests, plus our family of three. I was positively giddy at the prospect of cooking for friends for the first time since the pandemic began.
Depending on where you live, guidance from your local authorities and your comfort level, it may be possible to get together outside in small, physically distanced groups where guests can remain at least 6 feet away from one another. Even as we texted our invitations, we knew there was no way to have people over that was 100% safe.
But there were ways to reduce the risks.
Although most experts agree that the chances of catching the coronavirus from touching objects is low, studies have shown that, under ideal conditions, the virus can live on a surface for up to 72 hours. Quarantining the items for three days and unpacking them with gloved hands would lower the risk to a point acceptable to everyone in attendance.
The first step was to quarantine the tableware.
I put a set of plates, silverware, glasses and napkins on a separate tray for each group, then wrapped each tray in a bag. I also wrapped up cans of seltzer and individual bags of fancy potato chips.
The day of the party, Daniel and I snapped on gloves and packed an icefilled cooler with the seltzer cans, spaced apart for easy grabbing. Each group had a separate folding TV table next to carefully spaced chairs, and on the table we set bags of potato chips next to a canapé-size hand sanitizer. This wasn’t the abundant hors d’oeuvres spread I was used to, but chips and Purell is surely the snack combo of 2020.
We served the food directly off the grill, and each guest pulled a piping-hot serving off the fire with their own utensils. Minimal risk, minimal fuss.
Grilled chicken thighs were an easy choice. I could marinate them in a gingery balsamic glaze ahead of time. And unlike a big, thick steak or leg of lamb, they didn’t need to be carved or handled after cooking. Fish fillets, hot dogs and burgers (made with real meat or vegan meat), and individual chops are also suitable choices.
Just be wary of garnishes and condiments; the fewer, the better. If you can’t imagine grilling without ketchup, mustard or Sriracha, give each group its own bottle or jar, use gloved hands to put small servings in ramekins or ask people to bring their own condiments. This holds true for things like olive oil, salt and pepper, too. At the very least, be sure to have plenty of serving spoons at the ready, one for each group, as well as paper towels and wipes on hand, so everyone can clean as needed.
As a seasoning for grilled corn, I made jalapeño-feta butter, wrapping individual portions in parchment paper and twisting the ends as if each held a giant, chilestudded confection. The butter also would work equally well sliced on top of other grilled vegetables — peppers, eggplant, mushrooms, zucchini — melting into a creamy, salty, lightly spicy sauce.
I whipped up personal ramekins of no-bake butterscotch custards three days ahead. They were dense and ultra creamy, with a dash of molasses to accentuate the bittersweet brown sugar.
When our friends showed up, it was hard at first to remember every rule, and it felt downright strange not to hug and kiss hello.
But as everyone settled in, 6 feet apart, wineglasses in hand, we gradually eased out of the awkwardness and remembered what it was like to eat and drink with loved ones on a warm summer night. That feeling, it turns out, hadn’t changed a bit.