I’ve starting saying something new when I run into people at drop off for the first time in awhile. I ask them, “what’s the best thing that you ate all summer?” instead of asking “how are you doing?” How are you doing is so fraught right now and no one really knows how to answer it well. But everyone wants to talk about food.
For me, as a Sicilian-American, food is something that truly brings the people in my life together. It starts conversations and helps us find points of connection.
I love eating and I love throwing gatherings. I have an open door policy and a five-minute cheese plate that will blow your freaking mind. I also believe we have been sold a myth that entertaining requires spotless rooms, elaborate cooking, and perfection. It does not. Dan Pelosi (my favorite meatball who makes meatballs) of Grossy Pelosi agrees, and his new cookbook Let’s Party is a delightful blueprint.
The truth is, most of us want to gather more often. We crave the connection, but we stop ourselves because social media has made us think that every party has to be perfect. This is patently untrue.
Last week Nick and I put together a back to school week potluck.
It was perfectly imperfect.
Some people ordered pizza, some cleaned out their snack drawers and brought chips and pouches and others just brought wine or bags of random cans of things from the fridge (thanks Leslie). Inspired by Dan’s book, I made a tomato salad. This after school random ass park picnic filled everyone’s cup.
But I do have to say that hosting and guesting both get easier, and a hell of a lot more fun, when you follow a few simple rules. Dan Pelosi and I talked about them the other day on Under the Influence and they were so good I wanted to round them up here. You can also listen to our full episode below.
How to be the Hostest With the Mostest
1. Lead with the menu.
Do not just say “come over.” Tell people what you’re feeding them. “I’m making tomato pie and a big panzanella—be here at seven.” That kind of invite does two things at once: it builds anticipation (who doesn’t want to daydream about tomato pie all afternoon?) and it reassures your guests they will be well fed. No one’s stopping for Thai food on the way, no one’s wondering if they need to eat beforehand. A clear menu tells your people you’ve thought about them, and it sets the tone that food is the center of the night.
2. Work a three-day plan.
Do the heavy lifting ahead so you are not sprinting the day of. Chop now, assemble later, serve calmly.
3. Be a bossy host.
Do not make guests wander like lost interns. Hand them a drink. Tell them when you’re eating. Point them to the dips. Offer a tiny job only if they want one.
4. Be self-sufficient.
Do not expect guests to cook, plate, or clean. You should be able to pull off the party without help.
5. Announce the ending.
Put it in the invite and say it out loud. Party ends at eight means party ends at eight.
6. Take the picture, then put the phone away.
Snap it, tag, and rejoin the humans.
7. Dips do everything.
A dip is not just a bowl of something you plunk on the counter. It’s your all-day insurance policy. You can make them ahead. You set them out early and they hold the room, giving guests something to gather around while you pour drinks and finish the main dish. They transition seamlessly: mid-afternoon snack, happy hour spread, late night fridge raid. And the leftovers are magic. That garlicky white bean dip becomes tomorrow’s sandwich spread. The peanut dip turns into noodle sauce. Salsa verde doubles as a steak topping. Dips are versatile, forgiving, and universally loved. Treat them like the backbone of your party, not the throwaway afterthought.
8. Seed the room with a ringer.
Invite at least one great conversationalist to keep the table lively while you float.
The Guest Rules
1. Believe the host when they say “don’t bring anything.”
Don’t show up with a lukewarm casserole that adds to their workload. Just bring yourself.
2. No surprise plus-ones.
Food and seats are planned. Respect the math.
3. Skip the re-gift wine.
If you insist on a gift, make it personal. A cookbook you love (like Dan’s). Olive oil from your last vacation (I brought back a suitcase of Sicilian olive oil for this purpose). Something with a story.
4. Eat like a pro.
Even if you had a snack before, you still eat what is served. That is part of the social contract of being invited into someone’s home. Show genuine interest in what is on the table. Compliment the tomato pie, ask about the recipe, notice the small details your host has put thought into. Engaging with the food tells your host you see their effort and that you’re glad to be there. It is not about pretending to love everything, it is about being present and appreciative.
5. Know when to go.
The worst guest is the one who lingers when the party is clearly over. Transfer your party energy to the bar down the street and let the host go to bed.
Tell me your tips in comments and forward this to friends you want to party with.
I host a monthly soup dinner. I promise soup and if someone wants something else, they can bring it, and I tell them they will be taking home leftovers. Soup can simmer indefinitely so people dont have to be seated at once (tiny house = tiny table) and can eat all over my house and backyard and it feels like a hang rather than a Big Deal Dinner Party. Setting expectations in advance is key. I leave my door open and tell people to serve themselves but if I didn't communicate this, it would probably seem odd.
I love these ideas, and I really want to host more casual dinners this fall. I tend towards VERY stressed about hosting (to the point where my kids told me recently that they thought I hated having people over because I'm so mean and stressed in the hours before a party. Oops.) I'm going to try embracing these rules (planning ahead, not having a perfectly clean house) and see what magic happens :)
One thing I read somewhere was to have the table set, with candles burning, before guests arrive-- that it makes them feel really welcome. I've been trying that and I think it works!