Epicenter
Hosts with the most share their secrets.
As summer wanes, along with the opportunity for one more weekend barbecue, brunch or pool party, it’s worth asking: When a party invitation lands in our laps, why is it that we look forward to some events with anticipation and others with dread?
The answer, says Kensington philanthropist Sally Debenham, who has hosted society lunches and dinners for decades, is that “there are people who have entertaining vibes and others who don’t.”
What she’s talking about is more than personal charm (although that counts). The keys to a good party, it turns out, are a few ingredients that are often ignored, but without them, a party — like a souffle recipe that hasn’t been followed — will never reach its potential, and will collapse instead.
First on the list is not a gorgeous setting, wine or food.
“A good party depends on three things: guests, guests, guests,” says Monty Sander, a Napa Valley public relations man who with his partner has hosted Gin Friday, a dinner party featuring gin martinis for friends every weekend for the past 14 years.
“You have to be conscious of who you’re putting together if they don’t know each other,” he says. “I have a core group of several people that usually make up part of the group, and they all have interesting and different backgrounds with personal interests that make for great conversations.”
Friends tend to clump together in groups, but the best hosts make sure to introduce guests with tidbits to spur conversation. The alternative? “Don’t invite boring people to dinner — you risk drinking too much to drown out their dullness,” says Susan MacTavish Best, a lifestyle guru whose parties are the toast of the San Francisco tech set. “Better to drink too much over scintillating conversation. Invite an eclectic array of friends of varying ages, occupations and backgrounds. Some frisson amongst your guests is great fun.”
Her salons, like the recent “The Way Out of Black Holes” with string theorist Andy Strominger, draw a crowd to her Pacific Heights home, done in an eclectic mix of Scottish antiques, books, paintings and sheepskin rugs. She makes her own food, enjoys setting a crowded table and piles food and guests on top of one another — partly for the intimacy this type of discomfort creates.
“Lots of booze, no pretension, interesting people — it’s just good, good fun,” said Bryan Meehan, chief executive of Blue Bottle Coffee, one of nearly 100 people at the July 18 event. “I don’t care what the topic is. If Susan’s having a party, I’m coming.”
Great hosts make parties look easy. In reality, these affairs take work.
For dinners in her own home, Lee Gregory, executive vice president at McCalls Catering, a go-to for the Bay Area’s wealthy, plans well in advance with “reverse engineering.”
Her considerations start with “What time are guests coming?” followed by “When do I need to start prepping to be ready, with food, table, flowers and music?” Working backward from the party’s start in estimating the time required for each task ensures she will not be setting a table or jumping out of the shower when guests ring the doorbell.
To go with the flow, a host needs to establish the flow.
Sarah Jones, founder of Miss Jones Baking Co., a line of organic cake and cookie mixes, says she has hosted enough dinner parties (and tested enough desserts on friends) to know that “if you are busy in the kitchen prepping, your guests will feel like they need to help out or stay in the kitchen to keep you company, which in my experience is not actually very helpful.” Adds PR man Sander: “A
la minute (made to order) is great in a restaurant but not in your home with a crowd of people who always want to stand around in your kitchen. The real secret (in) any entertaining is to have it done before anyone sets foot in the door.”
Music, an optional ingredient, is often forgotten in the shuffle.
Debenham always puts on music at least a half-hour before anyone arrives, not only to set a mood, but in case someone comes early. “It’s awful,” she says, “to come into an empty space.”
Other sensory touches — scented candles or crackling logs in the fireplace in winter — also lend atmosphere, says Rebecca Miller Revel, founder of Martini Bird, a boutique events firm. (With enough candles, unflattering overhead lighting is unnecessary.)
When it comes to food, some hosts are torn. Sander, who once worked for a Beverly Hills caterer and spent time in the kitchen at Auberge du Soleil, goes gourmet, cooking braises and bouillabaisse, or throwing porterhouse steaks in his wood-fired oven. Jones thinks food is the least important part of a party, noting, “People are coming over to gather and socialize, and don’t actually care if you are a good cook or not. As long as you have enough food so that people aren’t starving, everyone will be happy.”
Timing is another key to success.
Revel attended a small dinner party at a friend’s studio scheduled for 7 p.m. The host, a professional chef, cooked for three hours and served dinner at 10 p.m., on a weeknight.
“No nibbles — just waiting in the living room with some almost-strangers while our host was in the kitchen,” she recalls. How to really kill a party? “Invite the wrong people, invite more people than you can comfortably handle, clog up the garbage disposal,” says Sander, “or run out of ice and gin.”