Last New Year’s Eve, I had about 25 people over for dinner. “Wow, 25 people,” you might say. “Must have been a pretty swanky affair in a pretty large apartment,” you might say. Well, my apartment is not swanky. And it’s definitely not spacious. It’s long and narrow, with three times as many sets of stairs as there are windows (one large window and three sets of stairs, for those keeping count). And there’s no kitchen table. My roommate and I have a coffee table. And a couch. And a bunch of skateboards hung on the walls. But a set of chairs circling a place to serve a nice family meal? Negative.
That didn’t stop the whole dinner party thing though. You don’t need a kitchen table to have a dinner party. In fact, you don’t need any kind of table to have a dinner party. Don’t believe in tables? Have a small apartment? Just got totally frustrated with the stupid IKEA directions and are staring at a half-built pile of wooden slabs in your kitchen? This article is still for you.
Because having a dinner party isn't about impressing people. It's about making them happy. And you can do that, sans-table. Sans-plates. Sans-five course menu. Here's how to throw a dinner party, no table required.
The Snack Situation
When your friends show up, there should be snacks. Snacks are important. We all know this, because we all like snacks. I try to have at least three things I made myself and spread them around the apartment, whether thats on a bookshelf, the counter, or the coffee table. A large bowl of potato chips and some killer yogurt dip? Perfect. Some cheesy crackers and a killer cheese to really gild the lily? Yum. Savory palmiers? An artfully displayed crudités platter? Some hand salad? A plate of pickles? All good. This is a good opportunity to get some crunchy vegetables into the mix. Your snacks should be hand foods, because dipping things in other things is fun, and holding a fork while eating snacks is not. That’s a universal truth.
Let Goodwill Help
Or any thrift store, really. If you’re having a bunch of people over, you need to be equipped. Hitting the tableware section of your local second-hand shop is the best way to do it. Don’t worry about matching bowls and plates. A random assortment of vintage china and diner-branded ceramics is more of a conversation-starter anyway. Get a little wild with the selection.
What to Make and How to Serve It
There shall be no knives. If your friends have to cut something, it’s not the right thing to serve without a table. You should only have to use one utensil, or none at all, to eat whatever you’re serving for a main course.
If you’re using a fork or a spoon, you’re serving food in a bowl. A bowl of sausage pasta. A bowl of chorizo chili and rice. A bowl of brothy beans. Something casual, warm, and inviting. Something you can eat easily, while standing up. If you’re serving something on a plate, it should be a sandwich.
Last New Year’s Eve, I served ham sandwiches. I picked up a massive fresh ham (skin-on and bone-in), dry-brined it for a day, brushed in hot honey and tons of pepper, and roasted it low and slow all day, while setting up the rest of the apartment. When friends showed up, I put an army of mini Martin’s potato rolls in the oven to toast, popped a couple jars of pickles, put out a small bowl of hot honey, opened a jar of mustard, and stuck a spoon into some Hellman’s. Then, I sliced and built sandos to order. Everyone was standing. Everyone was thrilled. Everyone had ham sandwiches.
Build Another Counter
I lay wooden cutting boards across the burners of my stove (which are turned off) to create some extra counter space. This is where the slicing, spooning, or ladling station should be. Serving food off of your stove reminds everyone that you made them dinner. It reminds them that you care about them. Not to get cheesy, but it makes them feel at home in yours.
The First Round Is on You
You should serve the first round of food, at least for a few guests. That could mean building them a sandwich, or making them a bowl of soup with garnishes and fixings. People get all weird about being the first person to dig in, and this gets things moving. Plus, it gives you an opportunity to show them how it's done. For seconds, though, the serving scenario should be set up so that people can DIY easily. Your friends should be able to walk over to the food, and think, yeah, this makes sense, pile up another bowl of food or assemble another sandwich, and get back to talking shit and draining wine.
Oh Yeah, Drinks
That wine has to live somewhere cold. Same with the beer. Use your outdoor space or your bathroom for what it is: a place to chill beverages. We have a small balcony (outside that one large window) that houses a cooler filled with ice (or just a lineup of bottles when the chilly December nights come around). But a porch or a fire escape work just as well. Someone reaches out of your window, onto the fire escape, into a cooler, and brings in a bottle of perfectly chilled bottle of cider? Or reaches into a bathtub filled with ice, bottles of Prosecco, and cans of lager? That’s not shady or low-brow. That’s just cool.
And Dessert
Don’t make dessert. I don’t. You know what people like? Ice Cream. With a bunch of stuff crumbled on top of it. I go for some high-quality vanilla ice cream, sprinkled with a bunch of granola. Some berries with whipped cream is a quick one if you feel like putting in the extra effort. With the sweets, simple is always best.
The vibes and the mood of your place are more important than the food. I’d rather be at a fun dinner party with mediocre food than at a boring dinner with technically flawless food. That's not an excuse—just some reassurance. Get that dinner party playlist going. Keep the drinks flowing. Embrace the informality. The reason your friends are hanging at your home isn’t because it's the best place to eat in town. They're there because they like you. Cooking for them is just a way to show them that the feeling is mutual, whether you have a table or not.