There are lots of foodie-types that I want to be when I grow up.  Foremost, I want to be that French woman who goes to the market every day to buy inspiring seasonal ingredients – no list! no recipes! – then returns home to whip up something fabulous in about fifteen minutes.

I want to be the owner of that kooky little neighborhood coffee shop who not only remembers your name, but also that you always order a plain cuppa joe with skim, and that your dog’s name is Duke (because you’re a big Ellington nut).  What’s that?  Duke’s not doing so well, you say?  Well then, today’s brew is on me –  you have enough on your mind.

I want to be like my friend Paul, who owns a gorgeous home on the Gulf shore and is always inviting folks to join him there – even people he’s never met.  After he takes them out fishing, he makes an amazing meal from the catch of the day, with whatever morsels of this and that he has on hand – then he pairs it all with just the right wine from his collection.

But perhaps most of all, I want to be that delightful party giver.  You know, the one who looks like a million bucks at her own party, engages each and every guest in a witty repartee, and somehow still keeps the food hot and the drinks flowing without even breaking a sweat.  Everyone looks forward to her parties, because they’re so…. well, they’re just the best parties.

That’s a tough one.  The first three can happen naturally, with enough practice (and savings).  But that hostessing gig – I think you might have to be born with that skill.  One time I got antsy at a one-year-old’s birthday party, just because I made the cake.  I wasn’t even the ding dang hostess, and I was all flustered.  Wow.

Over the years, I have learned to compensate for my weaknesses, lest I lose all interest in entertaining and withdraw to live out my years in a cave.  And given that we’re smack in the middle of holiday party season, I thought we might discuss special weapons and tactics for party-throwing.  (Parties of the cocktail variety, that is… dinner parties are fodder for a post all their own.)

First, the drinks.  If you’re talking about hosting more than a dozen folks or so, it’s important that you designate someone to head up this effort, because this is a big job in and of itself.  Aside from stocking the bar and pouring drinks, they need to keep the supplies refilled, keep from running out of ice, and most importantly, keep things under control.

If you can afford to hire a bartender, this is the time to do it.  (During the holidays, consider that whomever you hire probably needs the cash, otherwise they’d be throwing their own party.  Or at least attending one.)  If you don’t want to hire help, call in a favor from a competent friend who’s disinterested in this particular soiree, for whatever reason.  Maybe it’s your old college buddy, and the party is for your co-workers… or vice versa.  If none of that works, ask your significant other, your neighbor, your dog, somebody.

We could go on and on about the drinks… which spirits to offer, ideas for a themed cocktail (cranberry kir royale, anyone?), elegant punch ideas, etc.  But this is supposed to be a food blog, and so upon the food we shall focus.

The truth is, I adore party food, and since I usually can’t decide among the gazillion things I want to make, I used to go nuts and make them all.  The problem is that hors d’oeuvres are generally high-touch.  Ever try hand-rolling a hundred meatballs?  You could mix and shape an entire meatloaf in the time it takes to roll five of ‘em.

So what I’ve learned to do is split the food up into three categories: high-touch, low-touch, and no-touch.  Or, as I like to call them: show horses, work horses, and groomers.

In addition to dishes that require lots of energy to make, the high-touch category also includes any dishes that must be kept hot.  Because they require so much work, I have learned to limit this category to just one or two, or about 20 percent of the menu.  But I also make that 20 percent count.  These are your OMG dishes – the ones with wow factor.  The ones that make your guests ask “you made that?”  All that payoff makes the show horses worth the effort.

The work horses are dishes that come together easily, hold up at room temperature, and still taste and look great.  You set them out and forget about them.  This is where your tried-and-true repertoire kicks in – you’ve made that killer marinated cheese so many times you could practically do it in your sleep.  Pizza with unique toppings, dough prepped the day before, made extra large and sliced into 2-inch squares.  For me, work horses comprise about half the menu.

Finally, the no-touch dishes.  They are just that: literally effortless.  Those store-bought mini quiches that everyone enjoys.  That amazing dip your sister-in-law always brings.  The ubiquitous veggie tray (or, if you’re fancy, crudités). Good olives.  A selection of artisan cheeses.  A bowl of nuts.  The groomers round out the last 30 percent of menu.

So, let’s see… by my math, at least 80 percent of the food requires no upkeep during the party.  Nice.  (Actually, I usually toss out anything that needs to stay hot, which means the show horses hold up at room temp, too.  Now I’m not fumbling around with warming trays or Sterno, which makes the fire marshal happy.)

Knowing that I won’t be fretting about the food frees me up to worry about the invitations, or my impending wardrobe crisis, or figuring out why-oh-WHY the Jones’s never seem to RSVP.  Any of which, by the way, is still enough to stress me out.

But at least the food’ll be good.  Now where did I set that kir royale?

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Here’s one of my favorite “show horses” – a version of brie en croûte made with brioche, which is always a hit.  Make it yours by tucking other goodies into the crust, like mushrooms, nuts or a different kind of jam.

I know what you’re thinking, but don’t be intimidated by the fact that it’s a yeast bread – there’s no kneading or shaping.  If you can make a cake from scratch, you can whip up a batch of brioche dough in the mixer.  The rest of the recipe is fun – like working on a high-calorie art project.

If you want to make this more of a “work horse” recipe, you can use puff pastry, like this Paula Deen recipe (which I’ve never tried – caveat emptor!).


Brie in Brioche
Adapted from The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger

1 standard batch of brioche dough*
1 (8-inch) wheel of 60% fat Brie, rind on
¼ to ½ cup seedless raspberry jam
1 large egg, beaten with a pinch of salt
Crackers and fresh fruit

Prepare the brioche dough and refrigerate overnight. Divide the chilled dough into two equal portions**, reserving the other portion for another use. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough to 16 inches in diameter and at least 1/4-inch thick.  (You’ll want to work quickly-ish, because the dough will soften as it warms to room temperature.)

Spread the jam on the center of the dough, in a circle roughly the size of the Brie wheel.  Place the Brie over the jam, and fold the edges of the dough up around the cheese.  Trim the excess dough (save the scraps for decorations, if you really want to go all-out) and press the edges together to seal.

Grease or parchment-line a large baking sheet.  Turn the pastry bundle over and place on the baking sheet (so that the seam-side is down).  Cut a small hole in the top to allow steam to escape, then brush the top and sides of the pastry with the beaten egg.  If you’re decorating with the scraps, attach them with the beaten egg.  (You could roll them out and use a cookie cutter, for example.  Or conjure memories of your Play-Doh Fun Factory days – the possibilities are endless.)

Make Ahead:  At this point, you can stash the whole thing in the refrigerator.  Let it stand at room temperature for 15 minutes before continuing.

Preheat the oven to 375°F.  Bake on the center rack of the oven for about 40 minutes, until the pastry is golden brown and puffy.  (Check it often, as cheese can sometimes escape and wind up on the oven floor.  Not that that’s ever happened to me, of course.)

Cool on a rack.  Serve warm or at room temperature, with crackers and fruit.

*I had a technical glitch and had to re-type half of this recipe, which hosed any dim hope I had of typing out the brioche recipe, too.  If you’re interested, leave a comment, and I’ll email it to you.

**It’s not essential that they’re equal portions.  You just need at least one portion large enough to roll out to the given dimensions.