Dinner party no no

I love dinner parties. Actually I love lunch, brunch, drinks, other people’s, mine, and life’s too short parties. Well that’s what I thought, ’til I attended a dinner party on Saturday night and it made me examine what it is exactly that turns me on - and off - a party.

My husband who doesn’t love all parties unequivocally like I do, or thought I did, was dreading the other night’s . I put on my glad rags, shook out my hair and - as my mother would say - put a smile on my dial. Dinner was at my son’s friend’s parents. Didn’t know who else would be there. Gathering turned out to include a very tall ex-basketball player now v. hot ad exec and his extremely short wife, as well as fabulous gay Brit couple who are running a wine farm in Franschoek(or more accurately Fauxhoek for its self-styled quaint Frenchie flavour. Restaurants called Terroir, and Le Petite Ferme just get my goat. It’s the southern tip of Africa dammit!)

So company turned out well; my husband was LOVING the basketball player, but something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it until dessert. It was the food. Now I am no food snob - I am generally happy with any nosh, especially if it’s made by someone else - but this was dire. Of chief concern was a decidedly odd version of a Waldorf salad with no nuts and no celery. And let’s be honest, nuts are the best part of a Waldorf salad. So I ended up eating three plain but excellent baked potatoes to fill me up. Why was this dish so dire I wondered, when the hostess is the daughter of a Greek restaurant owner and a great cook in her own right?

Well the answer was food allergies. Turns out the wife of the ex-basketball player is allergic to bloody everything. Meat, nuts, cream, cucumber, rice, bread, wine, strawberries (currently in season), and onions. And that’s all I can remember of what was mentioned. My poor hostess was only informed that afternoon so the meal had to be amended last minute.

My thesis then is that the greatest enemy of the successful dinner party is the abstainer; those who abstain from food (regardless of reason; picky eaters, allergies, pregnancy, people on diets be they wheat free, or whatever) and caramba! those, and they do exist who just don’t like food. And the reason is not because it restricts your proposed menu - although in my Greek hostess’s case it ruined a potentially good Waldorf salad - but because it enters the conversation.

And conversation, I propose, is what a good party is all about. Discussions about food allergies, diets, and what pregnant gals cannot eat just kill a party. I would rather dinner descended into a heated argument about George Bush-whacker than listen to dull mentions of food preferences.

So come for dinner at me, and you’ll get food and I hope some great conversation. The food will be tasty if a little unadventurous. If you can’t eat something, just quietly feed it to Audrey, my Siamese. But please don’t make a fuss. Oh and I don’t countenance discussions of crime or emigration either.