Some time ago a friend and reader passed on to Etiquetteer Daniel Cappello’s 2014 book Dinner Diaries: Reviving the Art of the Hostess Book. Of course anything with Jackie Kennedy on the cover is bound to be interesting, and this book doesn’t disappoint (except that there’s almost nothing in it about Jackie Herself). Part homage to childhood influences and inspirations, part hospitality survey of the New York/Palm Beach set, reading it almost one year into the pandemic has Etiquetteer both pining to have a dinner party at home again and remembering boyhood dreams of grand evenings.
“Special-occasion china, handwritten thank-you notes, and carefully executed table arrangements are just some of the delightful details that continue to make the dinner party such a joy,” Mr. Cappello writes. And of course he’s correct. Precisely because the details are delightful — Mr. Cappello and Etiquetteer are surely not the only ones who think so! — means the dinner party is not doomed. His accounts of dinners held by his parents, and his own participation in their preparation, will delight.
The survey section of Dinner Diaries yields memories, advice, and a few surprises from the intersection of fashion, journalism, and philanthropy that inhabits New York and Palm Beach. Centerpieces don’t always have to be flowers (we often forget that), but a giant cloud of black licorice cotton candy sounds . . . ominous. But for the sort of people who are always going to black-tie functions, Novelty is the cornerstone of a good party.*
Asked about favorite china and silver, responses run the gamut from specific patterns to “Inherited” and even “chipped.” Offered the choice between a “chic” dinner in the kitchen or “formal” in the dining room, the responses were almost evenly divided. One respondent gave what Etiquetteer considers the Perfectly Proper response: “formal dinner in the dining room — but casual attitude.” In other words, assurance.
This is what Lillian Eichler meant in Today’s Etiquette way back in 1940: “The new etiquette does not concern itself so much with the minor details of table conduct . . . but rather with that fine ease and poise at table that make even a blunder seem of no great consequence.” One respondent offered this rule for hosts: “Avoid perfectionism — the unexpected always makes for a great party.” And this really underscores how etiquette and its practice have changed in the last 60 years, from slavish devotion to form giving way to greater attention to consideration and kindness.
And now, Etiquetteer will take the Dinner Diaries survey:
What is the perfect number of guests? Between four and twelve for general conversation.
Chic dinner in the kitchen or formal in the dining room? Regardless of chic or formal — and those aren’t mutually exclusive — always in the dining room. I’m a messy cook, and guests shouldn’t have to look at that.
You were inspired to be a good hostess by:
My mother, who was such a good cook and a welcoming presence.
My Granny Dimmick, who loved having a crowd of people around.
Emily Post, who described the atmosphere of a dinner party so well.
Miss Mame Dennis, 3 Beekman Place — what more need be said?
Small talk: insulting waste of time or necessary social lubricant? Absolutely necessary, especially when meeting total strangers in someone’s home. Disinterest in breaking the ice just looks arrogant.
Your dream menu includes: Arancini or smoked salmon, peas, chocolate in almost any form.
The place setting: American style? European style? Your own style? When in Rome, dahling . . . !
Have you ever used a cocktail fork, or other obscure flatware, in your setting? No. Life is complicated enough as it is.
Buffet-style service, family style, or served? Served if there’s someone else to do the serving, please! Otherwise family style, buffet for a Poverty Pasta night.
Your favorite line of dinnerware: Inherited, or the Hayes State Dinner Service at the White House. That said, my mother’s wedding china — white with two narrow bands of gold scrolling — was really the epitome of 20th-century formal china.
Your favorite line of flatware: Inherited.
Lighting: candlesticks, candelabrum, or votives? Votives around the room, tall tapers on the table so that the flame is above the eye. Really, it’s high time pink candleshades came back into vogue . . .
What was the most memorable centerpiece you’ve seen or used? Small china chick egg cups, perfect to hold chocolate eggs for Easter dinner. And I remember one close-set bouquet of white roses with one orange rose just off center.
Seating arrangement: the classic alternating genders, or rules be damned? I prefer the traditional boy/girl/boy/girl seating plan, but not at the expense of good combinations or conversation.
Music: classical, moody, or favorite online playlist du jour? No music at all once the party is seated. It takes away from the conversation.
Coffee at the table or served in another room? No coffee. Port or liqueurs at the table — I’ve found that people often want to remain at table rather than return to the parlor after dinner.
What makes for a great guest? Punctuality and a willingness to interact with others. Someone who can help at the bar in a pinch if needed.
What makes for a bad guest? If I’m doing the cooking, too many dietary requirements (this doesn’t make them bad people, but my capacity is limited). Otherwise, someone who calls or texts for driving directions five minutes before the party starts when I’m finishing preparations.
Your favorite hostess gift to give: A Lovely Note the next day.
What is the number one rule every good host or hostess must remember? Roll with the punches and don’t show stress. What you’re feeling and projecting directly impacts how your guests feel and the mood of the party.
If you could invite one guest to your next dinner party, living or dead, who would it be? Among the dead, my first reaction is Cecil Beaton, but I’d be afraid of what he’d write in his diary the next day! Instead I’d have to say Alice Roosevelt Longworth, a political hostess who understood the value of good table talk. Among the living, Chasten and Pete Buttigeig.
No dinner party would be complete without: Laughter.
What was the greatest dinner party you ever threw? A buffet dinner for 22 one August at a little Vermont inn. There was one long table overlooking a pond in the garden, covered with hippie bedspreads in green, yellow, and white, lit with pillar candles in square glass blocks. A magical evening. Also the dinner my sister’s family and I threw for our parents’ 50th wedding anniversary: 80-something people, speeches, songs, and a replica of their wedding cake.
What was the greatest dinner party you ever attended? Every year for the last 28 years, New Year’s Eve at the home of dear friends: a T-shaped table exquisitely set, four courses, family style, two desserts, three wines, and the closest friends. Heaven.
Words to live and entertain by:
“Give people one night in which everything seems enchanted. When all the women seem beautiful, all the men are handsome and everyone’s made to feel they’re amusing and, yes, liked. And then go home thinking ‘Oh, what fun it was! Oh, what a wonderful evening. How good it is to be alive.’” — Mrs. Dalloway screenplay
“Look, we’ve made enchantment!” — Blanche DuBois, A Streetcar Named Desire
“If I’m going to enjoy my supper, I’ve got to take off these tight shoes.” — Laura Hope Crews as Prudence in Camille
The End of Dinner, by Jules-Alexandre Grün
*Etiquetteer is fond of quoting Zippy the Pinhead, who famously said “Frivolity is a stern taskmaster.” But those are not words to live by.