The secret to holiday hosting? Stick to classics and take these other tips from a pro
For not the first time in my life, what seemed like an easy “yes” morphed to full-blown regret when I realized that I was in way over my head.
And then I blew it. I managed to turn my first holiday hosting gig into a “let’s-pretend-this-never-happened” frantic week of alternately snapping at people and apologizing to them for not being perfect.
It’s been 32 years since then (and more holidays than I can math) and I’ve officially become the family Holiday Meal Chief Cook and Organizer. That’s 32 years of trial, error, more error and finally more successes than failures as I took on holiday hosting duties. Now the 2023 Big Family Holiday Season is upon us and I’m on duty again.
Rather than giving a soft-focus, dreamy, Pinterest worthy report, here is the reality of what I, powered by decades of painful hosting lessons, have learned:
Adjust expectations: My first major mistake was overthinking, overplanning and overestimating my time and abilities. It took years, but by lowering my expectations, limiting my focus and practicing, I have created some lovely holidays. (I have also burned the dressing, dried out the turkey, failed to let the cinnamon rolls rise, put too much spice in the mulled wine … and a host of other failures.)
Find a menu and stick to it: Our holiday menu was established years ago when I learned that this group doesn’t want new recipes, they want the exact holiday foods that they’ve been dreaming of all year. They don’t care how awesome the fresh green beans with shiitake, cremini and oyster mushrooms in a bechamel sauce topped with caramelized shallots recipe from Pretentious Epicurean magazine sounds, if your family is like mine and the ubiquitous green bean casserole from the soup-can-label-recipe isn’t present, there will be lots of leftovers that no one wants to take home.
Write up a schedule: I write up an extremely detailed menu and a timed agenda that gets stuck to the fridge and I cross things off as they’re done. This is, maybe, the smartest thing I do. It tells me what I need to do and when I need to do it, and it tells my guests that there are a lot of moving parts, so step back.
Wear an apron: I realized long ago that I’m a very messy cook, so I started to wear an apron to save my clothes. I realized not that long ago that when I wear an apron, I feel like I’m doing something special. My holiday one says, “Just because I make it look easy, that doesn’t mean it is.”
Serve buffet style: I long ago staked a claim on our kitchen island as the buffet. If we waited for the Rockwellian passing of the dishes at the table, no one would eat hot food.
Cutting corners where I like: I’ll be cooking and serving in aluminum pans. I’ll be cooking and serving pre-made foods from the freezer section. And I’ll be one of the 6 million people buying the 58-ounce big-box-bakery pumpkin pies this holiday season.
Don’t cut corners where I like: We will have a lovely table set with a tablecloth, fresh flowers, cloth napkins, the good stemware and the heirloom china. All condiments will be decanted into matching serving dishes. Otherwise, it’s not a holiday table — it’s the regular table.
Make my greatest hits: Over the years, and I do mean years, I’ve learned to make exceptional — complete with secret ingredients — gravy, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. This hat trick of crowd-pleasing dishes is the cornerstone of my hostess reputation. Find your own and practice.
Finally, it took many years to realize, and several more to internalize, that the saying, “practice makes perfect” is missing something that makes it reflect reality: Practice makes “perfect” look a whole lot different.
Susan is a Kansas City based writer and podcaster. She’s a co-host of the award-winning, long-running, women’s history podcast, The History Chicks, and the host of the far less popular, A Slice From The Middle.