Easy-Does-It Entertaining

ntertaining guests in our homes, no matter how simple or friendly the occasion may be, can send a wave of panic through the house that measures on the Richter scale. Down to the moment that our guests arrive at our door, we are fussing, cleaning, preparing, and generally second-guessing ourselves into hysteria. Then, wiping the sweat from our brow, we open the door, wearing the mask of the effortless entertainer.

And so it goes, this long-playing drama. After the guests have finally departed, and your spouse has started speaking to you again, you put away the last of the only-for-company serving pieces, and collapse.

Why do we do this? Why is it that we take leave of our senses when it comes to entertaining?

I am, of course, guilty of the above charges. Having spent many years suffering from MSS (Martha Stewart Syndrome), I drove my poor family and myself to the brink of insanity preparing for company. Conquering the never-tried, ridiculously complicated recipe was my specialty. Driving an hour each way into Manhattan to pick up supplies, using every pot and gizmo in the house, and cooking into the wee hours of the morning became the pre-company ritual.

And then came the cleaning. I had to clean everything in the house, including the basement (just in case one of my guests had to do laundry or wanted to rifle through our out-of-season clothes after dinner). I straightened closets, dusted doorframes, vacuumed under beds, and re-washed all of the previously washed, ironed, and folded napkins and tablecloths. The china came out of the closed china cabinet and went straight into the dishwasher. And my dear, sweet family was warned over and over not to mess, touch, or eat anything "until THEY get here".

Sound familiar? Unfortunately, I know that this scenario rings true for many. I know this because whenever we go visiting, even to the homes of our closest friends, a comment is always issued from the spouse of the entertainer attesting to the madness that has presided over their happy home, turning his loving, level-headed partner into "Betty Crocker gone horribly wrong."

Entertaining should be enjoyable for everyone, especially the hosts. I mean, think about how great the actual premise of entertaining is. You (SHOULD) get to relax, have some laughs, reminisce, eat really good food, relax some more, and go to bed with a full, happy belly and a smile on your face. Approaching entertaining with this template in mind has alleviated my pressure to perform, and has, for the first time, allowed me to actually enjoy my company instead of being a prisoner of self-imposed servitude.

The first thing I did to make this transition was to take a good look at the people I was entertaining. If I was going to feel relaxed, I needed to be in a situation that I could relax in. That meant, for me, only inviting people that I felt comfortable being around. Why invite people into my home that put me on edge? It just didn't make sense. So, my criteria for an invite became,"How would I feel if this person just happened to drop by one day? Would I be embarrassed, or angry, or feel the need to make excuses about my appearance, or my home?" If I answered yes to this initial question, obviously, this person made me feel ill at ease. If I was going to have a good time with my guests, they had to be people that I could be myself around.

That taken care of, I started asking my friends, the people with whom I had the highest comfort level, "Of all the things I've ever cooked for you, what did you like best?" The answers really took me by surprise. Roast beef, lasagna and apple crisp were the overwhelming favorites--which just happen to be three of the things that I can cook with my eyes shut.
Doesn't this make sense? When I think of my favorite foods that come out of the kitchens of loved ones, it's always that "homey" item; my grandmother's sauce, my mother's stew, my friend's chili; that most perfect, simple expression of culinary genius wrapped in the guise of an everyday meal that makes my heart sing and my mouth water. The items that are made with ease, the dishes whose recipe is written only in our minds, these are the foundations of memorable, enjoyable meals.

Now, unfortunately, back to cleaning. Are my guests actually going to inspect every inch of my house? Of course not, and if they do, they shouldn't have been invited in the first place! A lived-in home is an inviting home. If it was good enough for my family yesterday, why is it in such dire need of passing a white glove test today? Truth is, it's not. Straightening up is understandable; making room for munchies on the coffee table, clearing kitchen counters, wiping down the hall bathroom all go into making your guests feel comfortable. But an overall clean sweep of the entire house is really unnecessary, not to mention time and energy consuming.

By taking these three basic ingredients of entertaining (guests, food and atmosphere) into consideration, and adapting each item to meet my own comfort level, I have developed a personally indispensable recipe: take a handful of those you love best, throw in a big helping of home cooking, and serve it all up family-style on the everyday dishes. The end result will be a delicacy; a memorable, satisfying, enjoyable time that will be savored and treasured by all.

---

Vivian Rindik-Wiener is a personal coach, and the creator of the Lifedesigning method of coaching. She lives with her daughter Paige, husband Glenn, seven cats and two enormous turtles in Rockland County, New York. To find out more about Lifedesigning, please visit Vivian's website for more information. Related Items

• Simplify Your Christmas: 100 hints for taking what has become an incredibly stressful time of year both financially and emotionally and turning it back into the kind of holiday that holds meaning for your family.
• Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much: I don't know anyone who doesn't fit that description.