CONFESSIONS OF A REFORMED PICKY EATER

I wrote a story for the November issue of MANHATTAN magazine about my transformation from strict vegetarian to part-time omnivore. The ida came to me after I hosted a dinner at our home. I'd spent a whole day cooking, laid a beautiful table and bought very good wine. One guest arrived nearly an hour late and barely touched the food and wine we'd served her. Besides feeling put out, I also realized that I had once--a long time ago--been a similar pain in the backside.

Here is a selection from the piece:

            “Dinner parties are more of a heavy lift,” acknowledges Amy Thomas, former events director for Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice who is now protocol director for the UAE embassy. For example, it’s not enough to offer just two choices of entrée. Event planner David Monn has kosher, vegan, vegetarian and gluten-free meals at the ready for big events, and asks the caterer to keep a vegetarian risotto handy in case any guests surprise the host with a last-minute request. “Everyone in general can eat a risotto,” he says. Likewise, Stephanie Winston Wolkoff, president of SWW Creative and frequent party giver, serves lasagna, steak and grilled vegetables at dinners in her home to cover her bases, and Ramy Sharp, who designs the Ramy Brook clothing line, admits her husband turns into a “short-order cook” at their house in Bridgehampton in an attempt to appease weekend guests’ finicky tastes.

At the Greenwich home of Dee and Tommy Hilfiger there are typically no less than three desserts—a bowl of fresh berries, chocolate mousse and a lemon soufflé or tarte, for example—on offer. “I don’t know anyone who serves just one dessert,” says Dee Hilfiger, who designs a lifestyle collection of handbags, footwear and outerwear for sale on HSN.

            Hearing that, I can’t help but recall a favorite photo of my mother from my childhood. She is dressed in ivory silk and pearls, her face shining with pride as she presents a magnificent chocolate mousse cake to a table of dinner guests. The dessert, one of my mother’s crowning culinary achievements, took hours of careful preparation, none of which were wasted on her guests, who routinely showered her with accolades and asked for second helpings. But what if I sent that same cake around my dinner table? Would anyone be so uncouth as to ask for bowl of berries or lemon tarte instead?

 


Here are my new rules for being a dinner guest:

Number one, eat what is served unless doing so will land you in an emergency room or put your health (physical, not mental) in jeopardy. But be honest! Your host will know if you are claiming a shellfish allergy but devoured the shrimp cocktail at the last wedding you attended together. Two, if you do have an allergy and your hostess hasn’t inquired (forgive her, this is a new rule), please inform her prior to the day of the party. The absolute worst thing you can do is announce it right as dinner is to being served, sending her back to the kitchen and disrupting the flow of the evening. And last, do your best to eat well—no pushing food around your plate—even if you don’t care for what is being served. Bonus points can be earned for finding something about the meal to compliment. There’s a reason why we say bon appetit before a meal.