How to be the perfect party guest

Don't let this be you!

Today I realized I’m always raving about how awesome our friends are. How they totally contribute to all of our cocktail and dinner parties and enable us to have delightful gatherings week after week. If I had an unlimited budget, could buy as much food as I wanted, and could hire help to shake cocktails and do the dishes, I wouldn’t need our friends to be so helpful. But since most of us don’t have the luxury of hired help or a huge budget that allows us to buy whatever we’d like, most us need a little assist from our friends if we’re going to host parties regularly. So if you’d like to be the best guest at any party you’re invited to—and make sure you’re invited to the host’s parties again—here are a few simple steps you might take. Certainly, you don’t need to do all of these things, but if you do just a few of them, you can be sure you will be on the top of the guest list the next time the hostess is drawing up her guest list.

1) RSVP promptly! We have a lot of loosey-goosey affairs at which RSVPs are not strictly necessary, and admittedly RSVP’ing is not the strong suit of some of my friends, but if you’re invited to a party, let the host know as soon as possible whether you can attend. If it’s a small event, like a dinner party for eight, it’s absolutely critical to know who’s coming. Even if it’s a larger, more casual event, the host(ess) would probably love to know whether you’re coming. Even if your attendance won’t make a huge difference in my shopping or party preparations, I love to know that the invitation was seriously considered and not just ignored.

2) Ask what you can bring. When you RSVP to most parties, you should consider asking whether you could bring anything. If it’s a black-tie event or catered, the answer is probably “no,” but often we hosts and hostesses would be grateful for a little something extra added to the menu. If it’s a casual potluck barbecue, I might realize that we’re short on vegetable dishes or need some more meat to throw onto the grill. If it’s a big cocktail party, there might be a bottle of something special I’m wanting. One regular (and very much appreciated) attendee of our parties works very close to San Francisco’s swankiest liquor store, which I don’t have the time to visit very often (and get into far too much trouble when I do visit). He always asks what he can pick up from Cask for the party, for which I am always supremely grateful.

3) Make a last-minute call. This is absolutely optional, but if you want to be on the “A” list the next time the host invites people over, give this one a try. We have one frequent guest at our parties who usually calls or sends a text message when he’s leaving his house for the party to see if there’s anything we need. Usually the answer is “no,” but sometimes it’s not. Maybe the weather has suddenly turned very warm and I realize we could use another 10 pounds of ice. Maybe I burned the crostini for the hors d’oeuvres and I could use another baguette. Whether or not I actually need anything, I always appreciate his last-minute offer for help.

4) If dinner is being served, arrive on time! If it’s a casual cocktail soiree or all-day open house, as many of our events are, you have a lot of leeway on your arrival time, especially if you’ve alerted your hosts you might be late. But there’s nothing more dispiriting to spend a week planning an elaborate dinner menu only to have your first course of pasta turn into a gloppy mess because one of your guests is not-so-fashionably late.

5) Mix and mingle. I know that when I go to a party, I’m sometimes guilty of grabbing my few favorite people there and monopolizing them for the entire evening. But the Cocktail Host, who is much more extroverted than I am, does a much better job of working the crowd. He goes out of his way to meet new people and have interesting conversations with them when we’re at a party. As a hostess, I want to make sure all of my guests have a good time, and I do my best to introduce guests who might enjoy each others’ company. But, at the same time, if it’s a large party, I’m usually pretty busy slinging cocktails and refreshing the food, and I can’t keep a super-close eye on everyone. That’s why I always appreciate my outgoing friends who make it a point to introduce themselves to anyone they haven’t met before or anyone who doesn’t seem to know a lot of people at the party.

6) Help out (just a bit) during the party. Often people who arrive early ask whether they can help. The answer, in my case, is usually no, because I obsessively prepare for each party. But even if I’ve done everything I can to prepare for a party, there often reaches a point halfway through the evening when I’ve used every cocktail glass in the freezer and the dirty napkins are stacking up on the coffee table. The last thing I want is for a guest at one of my parties to feel like they have to do a lot of work, but if you see a need  you can fill in a quick ten minutes of help—maybe rinsing cocktail glasses, clearing dirty dishes and napkins from the living room, or stoking the fireplace in the parlor—I love it when people just take care of that without asking.

7) Don’t overstay your welcome. Our parties tend to run fairly late, which is fine with us, especially since when I’m getting plum tuckered out, the Cocktail Host is getting his second wind, and he is usually happy staying up until the wee hours gabbing with the few remaining guests. That said, there is a point at which your hosts are probably fading fast. If the advertised hour of the party has passed, think twice about settling in for another drink, and it’s 4 a.m. and your hostess has fallen asleep on the couch, it’s definitely time for you to be heading home (unless you’ve had one cocktail too many, in which case we’re more than happy to pull out some pillows and quilts and set you up on the sleeper sofa).

8) Share photos. Perhaps this is just because I like to blog about entertaining, but I suspect most hosts and hostesses would be thrilled to have a few photos of their party after the fact, whether to share or just have for their own amusement. I always mean to take photos of my parties but I get busy shaking cocktails and making appetizers. If you have a camera and some minimal photography skills, I bet the host(ess) would love to see any pictures that you’ve taken.

9) Send a note of thanks. Again, this isn’t something I expect from my guests, but it makes my day when I get a note—either by email, or, even better, snail mail—telling me that they enjoyed the party. If you had a particularly good time, if you met someone who interested you, if you tasted something you had never had before, your hostess would probably love to hear about it.

So when you’re hosting a party, what do your guests do that make your life a little easier?

What it’s all about

This is what it's all about ... having fun with friends and family (in this case, at our annual Solstmas party at Liberty Lounge)

This blog is mostly for my own amusement, a chance to geek out about extravagant foods and fancy cocktails, and especially to jot down recipes or ideas that I’m excited about so that I have a record of them for the future.

But, if I have any hope for those who read my blog, it’s that they’re inspired to entertain themselves. I’m a firm believer than spending time with the people in your life is better than watching TV, that sharing a meal or a cocktail you made yourself with friends and family is one of the best ways to show them that you love them. And I think that the time you spend entertaining is repaid with a huge dividend when you see how much fun everyone is having.

I’m not sure that this message always come through in my many posts about my favorite desserts or swanky speakeasies in New York City, which is why I was so gratified to get this email recently from Stephanie, a family friend who follows my blog and can always be counted on to try the most adventurous options on the cocktail menu when I’m making cocktails at my parents’ house in Houston. Here’s her letter and pictures, shared with her permission …

Attached are pictures of Hostess Diary–inspired get-togethers. My New Years resolution was to have one or more guests once a month for dinner or drinks. Easter ham dinner with your folks …

Stephanie's Easter dinner

My other guest had a gallbladder attack and related surgery. I delivered dinner to her house instead of her joining us.

Girls’ campout with a Greek theme …

Girls' Greek picnic

… NYE Bunco with friends and neighbors …

Bunco party on New Year's Eve

I had your folks over in Jan for prime rib dinner …

Stephanie's table setting

… and my Feb dinner was stuffed flounder with neighbors.

This is precisely what I want readers to take away from my blog. I’d love to be able to order expensive truffles from D’Artagnan and have the talent and money to arrange beautiful tablescapes à la Martha Stewart. I emphatically don’t. But I have great friends who are willing to pitch in at every party by bringing a fun bottle of booze or by washing cocktail glasses midway through the evening. I have a larger-than-usual apartment with two fireplaces and a great view of downtown San Francisco. And I have a boundless enthusiasm for making food and cocktails, which allows me to host some memorable parties.

So what do you have that you can share with your friends? Maybe you have a big back yard with a barbecue and you know how to make killer ribs. Maybe you’re good at organizing your friends in playing party games. Even if you have a tiny home, a dinner party for four probably isn’t an impossibility, even if you have to sit on pillows around the coffee table. Even if your entertaining budget is miniscule, you might be able to buy some triple-creme brie and a hunk of aged goat gouda to make a beautiful cheese platter, which guests can nibble on while they do a blind taste test of bottles of wine that they have brought themselves.

My point is that the rewards of entertaining are many, and that there are a nearly infinite number of ways to gather your friends or family for a magical evening. Many years ago, in a tiny little studio apartment, I hosted parties where guests were asked to wear their jammies or something comfortable and bring a short story or children’s story to read to the other guests. Not all, but some of those evenings were utterly magical. When I lived in a 450-square-foot cottage where I couldn’t fit more than four people in the living room, I would wait until we had the rare heat wave in San Francisco and organize a last-minute mojito party in my yard. There were only a handful of nights each year when it was warm enough to comfortably hang out in the yard, but that just made the parties that much more special.

Whether your talent is cooking, cocktail making, decorating your home, or just knowing a posse of  interesting people who should get to know one another, you have the makings of a great party. And whether your home and budget lend itself toward a cocktail party for forty or a dinner party for four,   entertaining is probably within your reach.

If you have any entertaining success stories (or disasters … it happens!), let me know and I might share them on this blog.

The Calabria cocktail

The Calabria

Lately the Cocktail Host and I have been doing a lot of our cocktail drinking at home, indulging my penchant for playing around with cocktail ingredients. But of course I also enjoy changing out of the yoga pants into a cocktail dress and hang out with the grownups at a restaurant or bar.

Recently, two of my favorite bartenders in the world, Mr. Manhattan and Scott Beattie, landed at Hog & Rocks, a restaurant and bar a mere five or so blocks from my house. This is either a very exciting development or a dangerous one, depending on whether you are me or my liver.

Yesterday, Valentine’s Day, the Cocktail Host and I decided to pretend that we aren’t the old married couple that we are and we gussied up to pop over to Hog & Rocks for a few drinks and some nibbles at the bar. Mr. Manhattan was getting off of his shift and Scott was starting his, so we got to chat with them both while Scott made me one of Mr. Manhattan’s cocktails, the ravishing Calabria.

The Calabria

Now just imagine how gorgeous this drink was before drank a quarter of it and wiped my smudgy fingerprints all over the glass. I just couldn’t help myself.

I woke up this morning thinking that I should ask Mr. Manhattan if I could share his recipe for the drink, but then a few hours later someone forwarded me this online tutorial of Mr. Manhattan himself showing you how to make it. So there you have it. Go forth and make a Calabria.

A love letter to the Alemany Farmers Market

A small selection of Saturday's haul

Today is February 13, within spitting distance of Valentine’s Day, and everyone is thinking of ways to tell their sweetie how much they love them. But, as much as I adore the Cocktail Host, today I have another love on my mind: the Alemany Farmers Market, which I visit every Saturday I can.

I think of it as the Goldilocks of San Francisco farmers’ markets. Sometimes, if I have plans on Saturday morning, I go to the Heart of the City market on Sunday instead. There’s nothing wrong with this market, but I have a hard time getting excited about their selection. The Ferry Plaza Farmers Market is the most impressive in the city,  with lots of artisanal prepared foods mixed in with the most gorgeous fruits and vegetables you’ll ever see. Still, the crush of tourists there and  the heart-stoppingly high prices mean shopping there is only an occasional indulgence. I once paid $6 for a peach there. Six freaking dollars. It was a beautiful, sexy peach—one of the best I’ve ever eaten—but did I mention it cost $6?

So Alemany is my farmers’ market sweetheart. They’ve got lots of organic produce in addition to the conventionally grown stuff and stock just about everything I need … and many things I need but just didn’t know it yet.

Cardoons, anyone?

Cardoons

Or maybe you could use some five-foot long stalks of sugarcane?

Sugarcane

And who wouldn’t want to eat their veggies when they see a pile of eye-popping rainbow chard?

Rainbow chard

And the cocktail geek in me does a little dance every time I walk up to Rosa de Santis’s citrus stand, which sells citrus of every stripe. Of course there are blood oranges in season, about which I have written often, here, and here, and here. But that’s just the start of it.

There are kumquats and limequats and mandarinquats, oh my!

Kumquats and limequats and mandarinquats, oh my!

Buddha's hand

In addition to rangpur limes, calamondini, and more, she also almost always has Buddha’s hand, which I’d love to use in some homemade bitters, or just infuse into some simple syrup.

And last month I discovered her blood limes. Who even knew there was such a thing? I was going to post some photos of them a few weeks ago—they make beautiful ruby-colored cocktail—but unfortunately my friends and I drank them all up before I managed to work out the perfect cocktail recipe for them. I bought another batch on Saturday, so I’ll let you know if I come up with anything interesting to do with them.

In the meantime, I spent the weekend making soups and salads and roasting broccoli and figuring out what to do with my Jerusalem artichokes.

Some of Saturday's groceries

I’m sorry. Did you see those purple and yellow carrots, which I’m planning on making into a salad with tahini dressing?

Purple carrots!

Alemany Farmers Market, will you be my valentine?

Mason jars

Spices in Mason jars

I’m back home in San Francisco now, and when I reached for my jar of za’atar to sprinkle on my hummus this morning, I thought of one more item to add to my list of benefits of Houston over San Francisco, which I posted about a few days ago, and that’s the better availability of my favorite Mason jars.

Star anise in a Mason jar

A few months ago I decided I needed a new solution for storing my spices, which were in metal tins that were starting to get rusted and bent, making them hard to use. I knew I wanted to use Mason jars, which I figured would stand up better to constant use and washing and would be easily replaceable when I needed more. The problem was, I wanted these super-cute squat half-pint pint jars that I found online

Spices in squat pint Mason jars

but they were nowhere to be found in San Francisco. I scoured every housewares, hardware, and cookware store I could think of and had no luck.I discovered that I could order them online from the few sellers who weren’t out of stock, but that the shipping would cost more than the jars themselves, so I wistfully gave up on my favorite jars and decided to go with these smaller, 4-ounce half-pint jars for most of my spices …

Spices stored in half-pint Mason jars

But then, lo and behold, my mom came across the magical squat half-pint pint jars, called “Ball Collection Elite Platinum Wide,” at her local Walmart. She bought me 8 of them  and sent them along. I am so in love with these jars. The wide mouth makes the jars easy to use, and they’re just the perfect size for most spices. And they’re so dang cute!

Saffron in a wide-mouth Mason jar

Unfortunately, when I was in Houston last weekend, and I was excited to stock up on more jars, I was informed that they were a “seasonal item” and wouldn’t be stocked again until next summer.

Until then I’ll have to stick with a combo of the two types of jars …

Spice jars

Though the obsessive-compulsive in me that needs all the jars to match can’t wait until I get a full set of the pint jars. But does that mean that I have to visit Houston in the summer? Oh dear …

Guilty pleasures

Tookie's Bean Burger

Tookie’s bean burger

For the last four days I’ve been enjoying some downtime in Houston while I recover from putting in two solid weeks of 12-hour workdays. I’m afraid all of my family in Texas consider me something of a snob, since whenever I’m there I fuss about not having access to my usual hippie grocery co-op or a large selection of highball and old-fashioned glasses in the cabinet. Still, I have to admit that Houston has its own charms—especially now that it’s February, and I don’t have to deal with the swampy, 100-plus-degree weather of summer.

So, in no particular order, here are some of the guilty pleasures I’ve been enjoying for the last four days.

1. Football … on a 60-inch TV no less

Superbowl on the big screen TV

I grew up watching football, but I haven’t been able to follow it properly for years since we don’t own a TV. So I was more than a little excited when I discovered that I would be at my parents’ house, which is equipped with a spanking-new 60-inch high-definition TV, for the Superbowl. Of course I made cocktails for everyone who gathered at the house for the game.

2. A yard full of fresh mint … and beautiful peaches in the freezer.

Mint in the back yard

I can’t grow mint to save my life. Everyone says it grows like a weed, but I have managed to kill it in pretty much every way possible. But at my parents’ house, the yard  is always overgrown with the mint and basil, no matter the season. Add in the beautiful peaches my mom froze last summer, and I had the makings for one of my favorite cocktails, the Kentucky Colonel, which was a huge hit at the Superbowl party. More on this drink later, when peaches return to the farmer’s market in San Francisco.

Kentucky Colonel ingredients

3. Tookie’s!

I grew up going to the roadhouse Tookie’s for hamburgers, onion rings, and old-fashioned cherry Cokes. Though it closed a handful of years ago, burger aficionados—and especially my mom—were thrilled when it reopened recently

Eating lunch there made me happy that I had been subsisting on veggies dipped in homemade hummus and bowls of steel-cut oatmeal for the previous few days, because there was no way I was going to pass up  ordering my favorite burger from my teenage days, the Squealer. Putting your average bacon burger to shame, the Squealer is made from beef and bacon ground together into a decadently awesome patty.

Tookie's Squealer

My mom’s choice is always the Bean Burger (shown at the top of this post), a hefty beef burger stuffed with refried beans, salsa, cheese, and Fritos. It’s totally too much, and yet somehow just right.

4. Shooting heavy artillery at the gun range.

Mom with a Glock at the gun range

Until this week, I had shot a gun exactly  once, a relatively small .22. My parents, however, being proper Texans, have a concealed handgun license, and own a Glock 17. Being your usual San Francisco liberal, I have complicated feelings about my parents’ owning a gun, but when they suggested we go to the gun range, they didn’t have to ask twice.

The CocktailHostess at the gun range

The Solstmas Party … in a Powerpoint slide

Our friend Sharona the Shutterbug, unofficial photographer of all our Liberty Lounge parties …

Sharona, wearing the finery she *almost* won in the Solstmas gift exchange

recently sent me a flock of photos she took at our 14-hour-long Solstmas open house a few weeks ago. I plan to post many of them here in the next week or so, but in the meantime, I just wanted to give you a glimpse into the mind of the Cocktail Host.

Our friend Michael and the Cocktail Host, who seems to be having some sort of epiphany. Photo by Sharona Gottlieb.

While I was running around on Christmas morning decorating ice rings for the punch bowl and figuring out what glassware we should use for the keg of home-brewed pumpkin porter our friend Matthew was bringing …

Matthew and his home-brewed pumpkin porter. Photo by Sharona Gottlieb.

… Dave decided that we needed a diagram of where all the various drinks were, so he wouldn’t have to “keep explaining to everyone where the wine glasses are.” (Click on it to see it in its full glory.) After an hour of fiddling around with his computer (while I stewed about how he wasn’t doing something useful, damnit!), he came up with this 3D graphic, which we posted in a few different places in the house. I’m not sure anyone noticed them without being prompted (at which point we could have just told them where the wine glasses were), but once they saw it they were pretty impressed.

Dave's Powerpoint diagram for Solstmas

At the time he was working on it, I confess I would have rather he were reorganizing the living room or helping me clean the kitchen. But I also think it shows how he’s the yin to my yang, the Abbott to my Costello, the peanut butter to my jelly, the wax to my wane, the mad to my sane (but who is who in this case?).

Without me, our parties would be less obsessively planned, with less homemade food and fewer fancy cocktails. Without him, however, we wouldn’t have synced wireless streaming audio in every room, firewood schlepped and stacked, and “stadium lighting” brightly illuminating the ping-pong table in the backyard at midnight. And there would certainly be no Powerpoint slides, of that I am sure.

It might be easier to plan a party with someone who has priorities similar to my own, but the I suspect the parties would also be a lot less fun.

The Cocktail Hostess and Host. Photo by Sharona Gottlieb. Silly Mrs. Claus apron courtesy of my mom.

 

Sometimes I love my job: A crop of new vegetable-oriented cookbooks

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been hitting the tofu and arugula pretty hard in the last few months, since butter-laden barbecue shrimp, pie shakes, and Momofuku pork buns hadn’t been doing my cholesterol any favors. (I can’t imagine why!) Despite the fact that I miss butter and cheese like mad (oh, what I wouldn’t do for a hunk of Brie!), I’m actually still feeling pretty chipper about trying to eat healthier.

For the last few months I’ve been channeling my love of good food away from pork butt and toward fish and fennel, which keeps me from feeling too deprived. Though butter and cream undoubtedly make everything taste better, I’m enjoying exploring the whole universe of food that won’t result in a coronary at age 55, and I’m having fun testing the limits of quinoa and kale. (Note: This doesn’t mean that  I’ve completely given up on the occasional decadent treat or a few fun cocktails, mind you, lest you think that from now on this blog will be about nothing but vegan lettuce wraps and flaxseed-infused smoothies. Everything in moderation—even moderation.)

I’m also super-psyched that right now I’m working on not one but two great cookbooks that are offering me lots of great ideas and inspiration. The first is a copyediting job for The Sprouted Kitchen: A Tastier Take on Whole Foods, which will be published by Ten Speed Press later this year. The author, Sara Forte, has been blogging about healthy cooking at Sprouted Kitchen for years, and the blog is full of stunning photos taken by her husband, Hugh. I hadn’t seen it before I started working on this book, but I’ve become an instant fan, and if you love food blogs, you’d be hard-pressed to find one as beautiful as this. Based on the photos on the blog, I think it’s going to be really lovely (some early design layouts are here). Better than that, it’s in the sweet spot of how I’m cooking right now. Lots of whole grains and vegetables, but not strictly vegetarian. Salads galore. Interesting combinations of unusual ingredients. I haven’t actually cooked any of the recipes yet—I just received the manuscript about a week ago—but there are several I plan to make in the next few weeks.

The second project I’m working on that makes me really happy that I do what I do is proofreading The Davis Farmers Market Cookbook, by Georgeanne Brennan and Ann Evans. I’ve barely cracked the cover on this one—I just got it today—but after a quick look  I’m already marking pages with recipes I want to try.

Sometimes the cookbooks I edit don’t have a lot to do with the way I like to eat, whether they’re about vegan desserts or instructions for making baby food. Other times the books I work on are about something I dearly love but have a blinking “danger” sign attached to them. For example, about six months ago I spent a few weeks copyediting Sweet Cream and Sugar Cones, which will come out in April of this year. Since the ice cream shop where the recipes come from, Bi-Rite Creamery, is only three blocks from my house, I was well aware how dreamy their desserts were before I started working on it, and I spent last August churning out buckets of Strawberry-Balsamic Vinegar and Salted Caramel ice creams, much to the Cocktail Host’s delight. It was a great project, but right now I’m glad I don’t have those recipes for popsicles and ice cream pies staring me in the face each morning when I turn on my computer.

Finally, while I’m on the subject of healthy recipes, here’s a quick little something I’ve been making left and right for the last few weeks. (My apologies for the unappetizing photos. A few posts ago I think I warned you that photos of muddy brown lentils and hippie glop might be making an appearance here.)

Peanut-lime dressing

The Cocktail Host and I love both Thai and Vietnamese food, and we especially adore nuoc cham, the tart-salty-sweet dipping sauce that is typically made with fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, and chiles. It’s a bit too thin to use as a salad dressing or to cling to most foods, so I played around with adding vegetable oil. It was good, but I prefer this version, with ground peanuts. I’ve been making it in double batches lately and storing it in the fridge, where it keeps well, as long as you shake it to recombine the ingredients. I couldn’t say exactly how long, because no matter how much I make, I seem to dump it all on salad greens or tofu  before the week is over. I have yet to meet a vegetable that isn’t tasty with a spoonful of this on top.

Here are the ingredients you need. I like to use Thai bird’s eye chiles, but the market was out of them, so here I’ve used Sriracha sauce instead.

peanut-lime dressing ingredients

And here’s the recipe …

Peanut-Lime Dressing

3/4 cup dry roasted peanuts
3/4 cup freshly squeezed lime juice
1/2 cup coarsely chopped shallots
1/2 cup agave nectar
5 tablespoons fish sauce
3 bird’s eye chiles, stemmed and seeded, or 4 teaspoons Sriracha sauce

Combine all the ingredients in food processor or blender and pulse until the peanuts are finely chopped and the ingredients are thoroughly combined. Taste and adjust the ingredients, adding more agave nectar if you prefer a less tart dressing, more chiles if you like a hotter one.

Entertaining lessons learned … for now

A Sazerac

I’ve hit the wall that I seem to smack into every January and I’m feeling the need to take a step back from entertaining for a while. And by “a while,” I mean maybe a week or so, since inevitably I’ll have the itch to organize some other celebration, or maybe just have a few folks over for dinner, in a couple of days.

This time of year is always the tail end of an entertaining marathon at our house. In the last month we’ve hosted a daylong afterparty that started at 8 am (following an all-night dance event elsewhere), a Christmas Day open house for 70, a very small surprise party for the Cocktail Host’s birthday, and a larger get-together for my birthday last weekend. A few weeks before that it was Thanksgiving dinner for 11.

The Cocktail Host and Jacob set the table

Add in hosting three bridge games, having a houseguest for five days last week, and various friends dropping by for drinks or dinner every few days, and I’m pooped.

I’m sure this burnout is mostly the result of the party I hosted last Friday, where I went a little bonkers with the menu, making homemade cheese straws, and candied spiced walnuts, and Marcona almonds with lavender and sea salt, and crudités with four (!) kinds of dip, and homemade caramel corn with almonds and pecans, and homemade hummus with za’atar and pita chips baked by yours truly, and cumin-mint chicken satay with a peanut dipping sauce … and that’s not counting the menu of five different cocktails and mocktails.

I have to admit there was a moment last Thursday when I wondered why I was spending my birthday lugging a backpack with 20 pounds of veggies, crackers, and tahini up the hill to my house instead of putting my feet up, but I knew the feeling would pass before long. And when the power went out at our house the morning of the party, I briefly wondered how I would go about canceling the party before I started inventorying my candles and firewood and figuring out which dishes I would have to strike from the menu since I couldn’t use my Cuisinart. (The power came back on an hour or two later.)

In the end, though, I enjoyed this party more than almost any other I’ve hosted, in part because the Cocktail Host insisted that I not work nonstop during my own birthday party, even though I reminded him that it would mean that he would have to spend the whole party on his feet. Though I love making food and drinks for folks at my parties, it was a revelation to have more than 90 seconds to chat with my guests in between shaking up drinks.

So the lesson I took away from this season of entertaining—other than enlisting my husband to make drinks during a party—is the virtue of simplicity. Of streamlining. The wisdom of making four types of cocktails instead of six. The sanity I would gain from serving a cheese plate alone rather than a cheese plate and homemade cheese straws, which had me ripping apart my cabinets looking for my missing rolling pin and sweeping up a flurry of flour an hour before my guests arrived.

You wouldn’t think it would take hosting so many parties to figure this out, but apparently it does. I feel like the bride-to-be who stresses about party favors and the color of the table linens and whether her niece should wear the same type of wrist corsage as the bridesmaids. You can tell her to chill the bleep out, but she’s not going to listen to you. She has to learn for herself.

Speaking of simplicity … one of the cocktails I made last Friday was the Sazerac, by some accounts the first American cocktail. Though I don’t drink a ton of Sazeracs myself at home, I wanted to put something on the menu that didn’t include citrus, as did all the other drinks on the menu, and I like the ritual of assembling a Sazerac. And though I expected this drink to be a hard sell considering the competition, it surprised me by being one of the most popular drinks of the night.

But just because it’s a “simple” drink doesn’t mean that everyone agrees about how it should be made, and many knowledgeable bartenders vehemently disagree about the technique for making it. Some serve it in an old-fashioned glass while others prefer using a cocktail glass. Traditionalists use a sugar cube, but some use simple syrup instead. Some use a combination of a few different types of bitters, while others insist a Sazerac should only be made with Peychaud’s. Some rinse the glass with absinthe, but others use Herbsaint, the New Orleanean anise-flavored liqueur that became popular when it was illegal to sell absinthe in the United States. And finally, and perhaps most contentiously, some like to drop the lemon twist into the drink, while others insist it should only be twisted over the drink and should never, ever see the inside of the glass.

I’m not at all doctrinaire about my Sazeracs and am of the opinion that as long as the drink is quite cold, it’s probably going to taste great. Cocktail nerds will already have their own firmly held opinion about how to assemble this drink, but for the rest of you, here’s the way I put them together.

You’ll need some rye (I’m very fond of Rittenhouse and Michter’s, but Bulleit is perfectly acceptable and a bargain to boot), some Peychaud’s bitters, and some Herbsaint. Even if you’re starting from zero, it shouldn’t cost you more than $50 or so to buy all the ingredients if you use Bulleit.

Sazerac ingredients

Put an ice cube in the bottom of a pint glass and shake about three dashes of Peychaud’s bitters on top. Use a muddler to mash it all up.

Adding the Peychaud's bitters

Add 2 ounces of rye to the glass, add ice, and stir to dissolve the sugar and chill the drink.

Stirring the Sazerac

Now remove a small cocktail glass from your freezer (you do keep cocktail glasses of various sizes in your freezer at all times, don’t you? Good!). Add a small amount of Herbsaint to the glass. Some people like to use an atomizer or an eyedropper, but I typically use a small squeeze bottle. Tilt the glass so the Herbsaint coats the interior of the glass, then dump out the extra liquid.

Adding the Herbsaint

Strain the rye mixture into the glass, squeeze a lemon twist over the drink, and drop the peel into the glass. Voilà! You’ve just made a classic cocktail that’s been around for about 150 years. Now don’t you feel sophisticated?

Voila! A Sazerac.

The land of Milk & Honey

Michael McIlroy's Right Hand cocktail

Last November I was thrilled to have the chance to go to New York City for some meetings with a client. I hadn’t been to the city in more than ten (!) years, since long before I became a serious cocktail geek, so I was especially excited to check out as many of the city’s famous speakeasies as my liver—and my busy work schedule—allowed.

I was only able to make it to three of places on my long list (PDT, the Raines Law Room, and Milk & Honey), but Milk & Honey was the one I was most excited about, and it didn’t disappoint.

After making reservations online, I met up with my friend AnneLise Sorensen, who took all of the pictures in this post (thanks, AnneLise!). We walked down a gritty little alleyway on the Lower East Side and knocked on the door to get into this retro cocktail fantasyland, a tiny, dimly lit speakeasy where instead of looking at a menu you tell the bartender what you’re hankering for and something ineffably delicious shows up in front of you.

We sat at the bar, of course, so we could see the bartender in action as he worked his magic.

First I asked for a cocktail using aged rum, one of my favorite spirits, and I got a Right Hand, a sort of rum variation of a Negroni, if you want to think of it that way, made from Matusalem Gran Reserva rum, Campari, Carpano Antico vermouth, and a few dashes of Bittermen’s Xocolatl Mole Bitters. If you like, you can find the exact proportions here …

Pouring the Carpano Antico vermouth

After that I asked for another spiritous cocktails—with no fresh muddled fruit or citrus to get in the way of the other ingredients—and our bartender came up with a Greenpoint, a revelation in a glass made from rye, sweet vermouth, yellow Chartreuse, and two different types of orange bitters. Again, last I checked you could find the precise ratios here.

Pouring the yellow Chartreuse

Our bartender, Michael McIlroy, could not have been more charming, patiently answering my incessant questions about all the drinks he was making and chatting with me about cocktail geekery and the best places to drink in New York and San Francisco. And, if I’m not mistaken, he actually invented the two cocktails that I drank, which proves that his palate is as well developed as his gracious sense of hospitality.

Michael McIlroy

He even called ahead to the Raines Law Room and hooked me up with one of the bartenders, there, ensuring I got in without waiting in line with the other thirsty folks hanging around outside. He tells me that Milk & Honey will be moving to another location before too long, but a speakeasy will remain at the current location, and he and another of the M&H bartenders will be behind the stick. It will be called Attaboy, he says, and undoubtedly it will be my first cocktail stop next time I’m in town.