Usually, being an overcompensating, over-planning Type A person is a bad recipe for adulthood. Well, not so much for hosting dinners, and over the years, I can finally understand why my mother paid attention to the potpourri in the bathroom when we were expecting company. Yes, I am officially potpourri old. And now that I entertain company in my own house, dinner parties and the like (you know, the thing you do as soon as you hit your mid-twenties, where you promise yourself that you need to evolve beyond house parties)—and if you are anything like me, hosting brings your anxious mother in you; trust me, that’s a strength – hold on to it.
Hosting a proper dinner party is a rite of passage, and I didn’t burn down the house, and neither will you. But if you expect me to Martha Stewart this thing, respectfully, you’ve come to the wrong place.
Just be intentional
Got good wine? Great. Got a set of plates and cutlery that you can respectfully put on the table? You’re already way ahead of us. The key to hosting is not to worry about the minor details. What I find simple when hosting is figuring out the dynamics of the people I am welcoming in. Am I expecting close friends, or people from work, or am I calling a bunch of people who don’t know each other at all? I’d set the table, plan the menu and arrange the entertainment that way. At the end of the day, your guests won’t remember the exact shade of the napkin, but they will remember the conversations and all the elements that were intentional for those experiencing them. For example, if I have my close friends over for a dinner party- the set-up would be….exactly how close friends hang out, cosy, sharing food family style with a bottle free flowing!
The menu: cook one thing brilliantly
Here's the trap everyone falls into: cooking six things you've never made before and spending the entire party sweating in the kitchen. Don't. Pick one dish you've made at least twice, something that can mostly be done before people arrive. A pasta, a roast, a big curry. Then buy the rest. Good bread, a store-bought dessert you've plated nicely, and a salad that took you four minutes. Nobody is grading you. They're hungry, and they want to have fun. Trust me, I thought cooking puff pastry tarts for a party of 8, along with a big pot of Biryani, was a great idea. It ended with me having a breakdown right next to my underbaked pastry. I do not recommend it.
Drinks before dinner, always
Have something ready the second people walk in. A pitcher of something — sangria, a simple cocktail, or sparkling water with citrus, if you want to be inclusive. This buys you thirty minutes of buffer time while you finish up in the kitchen, and it immediately signals I have my life together, even if you absolutely do not. A chilled Diet Coke goes a long way.
Set the table like you mean it
You don't need to match everything. You need enough forks, enough glasses, and a table that looks like someone thought about it for more than ninety seconds. A candle (unscented, a dining table rule), some greenery you pulled from literally anywhere, and napkins folded in half. That's it. That's the table. Done. And by any means, DO NOT get roped into the doomscroll hellfest that is the party planning algorithm. You do not need to hand-sew plaid place-settings for every guest.
Music is a non-negotiable character in the room
Make a playlist before people arrive. Background jazz or an indie acoustic mix for dinner, something with a bit more energy once the plates are cleared. Never put it on shuffle and pray. Volume should be at a comfortable conversation with a little soul, not trying to identify the song over someone's monologue. Or play Britney Spears on full blast, it’s your party at the end of the day!
The hosting mindset nobody tells you about
You will notice things your guests won't. The slightly overdone chicken, the fact that you forgot to put out serving spoons, none of that will register to the people eating, laughing, and genuinely just glad they were invited somewhere nice on a weeknight. Your job is to keep the energy up, keep glasses full, and make every person feel like they were specifically wanted in that room. Because they were.
The aftermath (yes, plan for this too)
Decide before the party whether it's a plates-away-by-midnight situation or a we're-talking-until-2 am-and-that’s-fine one. If it's the latter, have tea, have something small and sweet, and don't start aggressively cleaning while people are still talking. But if you've got work tomorrow, it is entirely acceptable to start stacking dishes as a social cue. They'll get it.
The secret nobody admits is that the bar for a great dinner party is genuinely not that high — people just want to feel welcome, well-fed, and like they didn't waste a Tuesday. You've got this. Now go check on the potpourri, and call your mom; there’s not a better person you can call for advice.