IF I HOST a dinner party at my house that you are invited to, then first of all: congratulations! You are living in a thrilling science-fiction world where robots probably walk among humans as equals, and also, I know how to cook.
I spent a great deal of my youth fantasizing about entertaining. In my early twenties I would spend hours poring over cookbooks at the Seventh Avenue Barnes & Noble in Park Slope, planning elaborate parties that I would throw when I was older and had money. Now I am older and have money, but I almost never entertain. I have yet to throw my Great Gatsby–themed Super Bowl viewing party, but when I do, it will be a big hit, as will be my Daisy Buchanan slow-cooker chicken enchiladas.
It is more than ten years later and, in some ways, I am the person I hoped I’d turn out to be when I was twenty-three. I mean, I hoped I would be married to a Laker and have an Oscar and an ass that doesn’t quit, but I’m doing pretty well. I do not, however, throw nearly enough dinner parties. But if I ever do, you will never be asked to bring anything. I believe the potluck tradition of entertaining is the equivalent of a teenage boy wanting to have sex with his girlfriend but who is too scared to go to CVS to buy condoms. If you can’t handle providing all the courses for your dinner party, you can’t handle the hosting duties of a dinner party.
However, if you feel like bringing the following non-food items, boy, will you be my favorite guest. Here’s what I suggest you bring:
A great story about a near-death experience. Did you ever get mugged at gunpoint on the subway late at night? Did you ever almost fall over the ledge of the Grand Canyon Skywalk? Did you ever have dinner at a restaurant the same night a serial murderer also ate there? Are you a ghost? Tell that story, please!
A great story about a scandalous celebrity experience. Did you ever hook up with Jimmy Fallon before he was famous? And was he into something in bed that would surprise and titillate us? Oh my! Please go on!
My mail from my mailbox. Thanks, bud. Just leave it on the counter. You’re a good friend.
An old picture of us you found.
We looked like that in college? Ahhh, we were so weird!
An old picture of Colin Firth you found.
Oh là là. No need for dessert, am I right? (Don’t worry, there’s obviously also dessert.)
A new kind of hot sauce you want to introduce me to. I eat hot sauce on approximately 70 percent of my meals. Learning about new hot sauces is the least expensive way to improve my quality of life. Remember when I tried Sambal Oelek and I wouldn’t shut up about it? This is a very thoughtful gift that shows a deep understanding of your hostess.
Your ukulele to play a song after dinner. Classic tunes only, like “Over the Rainbow,” or songs that would sound funny on the uke, like Sam Smith’s “Stay with Me.” No original music allowed! You know I can’t stand original music! Please stick to the hits. This is a celebratory event, not an open mike night at the Campus Events Hall.
An enormous vintage diamond engagement ring you are giving to me because you are going to announce at dinner that I am yours. I can’t believe it! I’m being proposed to at my own fussy dinner party even though I had all these irritating restrictions! I’m the luckiest girl on earth!
A huge appetite and a cheerful tolerance for solid B-minus cooking. Just a friendly reminder: I truly cannot cook.