Articles & Essays

People are thinking about parties now, with New Year's Eve and bowl-game get-togethers coming up. I own a number of books on entertaining, although - if I may be immodest - they are entirely unnecessary.

Everyone eats well at my parties, that's a given. Also, relationships have been made and broken. A neighbor wearing a wet suit has dived into my hot tub. A table once caught on fire. And a Shakespeare-style comedy of mistaken identity has occurred: Two women with the same first name were present, and I fixed up a guest with the wrong one, which the guest didn't discover until the woman arrived for their date days later.

Those events are besides the usual party-related carryings-on.

I believe it's not a party until someone spills something really messy. Sure enough, about two hours into a recent one, a full glass of red wine hit the kitchen floor. "That would've been the end of my floor," a friend said, referring to the aged hardwoods in her kitchen.

Hey, that's why I bought cheap vinyl.

My Party Rule No. 1: Lots of food. I like a mix of hefty edibles, like Cajun red beans and rice (which also suits those pesky vegetarians who seem to be popping up everywhere), and snacky things like nuts, cheese or guacamole. I know that means my menu has no real theme, except the theme of "stuff that's easy to fix and will fill the ravenous hordes." For big parties, I like to do it ahead and heat it in a Crock-Pot.

Rule No. 2: Plastic glasses.

But even a pro like me can learn something, so I consulted my entertaining library. The oldest book in the collection is "The Complete Hostess" by Clara E. Laughlin, published in 1912. Among its chapters on entertaining at home, anniversary parties, fancy-dress parties and "Church Entertainments," the book makes it clear that Mrs. Laughlin was a big fan of party games. For adults.

In the chapter "Informal Entertaining in the Home," her themes include what she calls a "Shakespeare Conundrum Party." The example for this game: If checks could speak, what character in "Julius Caesar" would they name? Cassius. (Get it? Cash-us.) Guests are supposed to guess these punnish answers.

As a fan of Will, I delight in the idea that there was a time when partygoers were expected to possess the encyclopedic knowledge of his works that today's guests have of "Survivor." But the fault with this game, dear readers, lies not in the stars but in our TVs.

Let's advance to 1946, when the Westmoreland Silver company produced "The Perfect Hostess" by Nancy Prentiss. This booklet, included in sets of silver, details everything a hostess might need to know.

There's a New Year's Eve Buffet Supper menu with no recipes, just the menu; I guess the perfect hostess has them memorized: baked ham, sweet potato almond puffs, asparagus tips with hollandaise, lobster salad, molded fruit salad, rolls, ice cream pudding with brandy sauce, salted nuts and candied fruit peel. I'd be comatose by 10 p.m. feeding on that.

The swinging '50s are all over "VIP Tosses a Party" by Virgil Partch and William McIntyre. This 1959 book, which my husband got from his father, is concerned about introductions, the balance of personalities at a party and the monitoring of trouble spots where arguments might break out.

Shoot, I just let everyone in the door, then they're on their own. No riots to date, not even when someone found a package of sparklers and set them off in the house.

The chapter on drinks and setting up a bar has good information, but I can think only of the scene in the original "Father of the Bride" in which Spencer Tracy is stuck in the kitchen for the entire engagement party filling bizarre requests for cocktails. I provide a corkscrew and bottle opener; my guests do the rest.

I did learn something from my newest entertaining book, the 2006 "I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence" by Amy Sedaris: Put a lock on the medicine chest because some snoopy party guest will try to go through it.

I even learned something new during my recent holiday party. If you're over 50 and have been drinking champagne, don't do that third tequila shot, even if it is your house and you only have to crawl down the hallway to make it to bed. It makes cleaning up the next day a whole lot less fun.