Reject perfection to alleviate hosting worries this holiday season.Printstock/Getty Images
From mid-November on, social media is rife with ribbons trailing from wineglass stems, elaborate florals arcing over taper candles and handwritten name cards in looping script. It is all beautiful.
That said, sometimes the performance pressure of the holidays can outweigh the pleasure. Even as someone who adores entertaining and who utterly relishes the fuss, I’ve come to realize the best dinners aren’t about upholding a mythic perfection.
Take a recent afternoon with some friends. The week of the event, we realized none of us had the bandwidth to fulfill an ambitious plan. We released expectations in favour of connection. I grabbed an exuberant amount of Chinese takeout. One friend brought bakery cannoli, another baked a perfectly burnt Basque cheesecake. The last opened her home, chilled a bottle of bubbles and stirred together a sour cherry compote for the cheesecake’s garnish. The centrepiece was a clutch of chili oils. Hours slipped by on an exhale. A grand time had by all.
This season, I humbly suggest anyone frazzled follow our lead. Shed the worry of entertaining while keeping its glow by subtracting before you add.
An overachiever's guide to holiday hosting
Begin with the venue. Save stressing over how to seat 15 by relocating the event outdoors: Pack a picnic for a parade, community skate or winter festival. Wrap muffulettas or banh mi in parchment. Grab a bag of clementines and a thermos of steaming apple cider.
Not a sandwich person? Go for walking tacos, half snack, half hand warmer. Use squeeze bottles for crema and hot sauces, deli containers for fixings. Simple is made special in an unexpected setting.
Fresh whipped cream is a flourish grander than its effort. Fill a mason jar one-third full with heavy cream. (If temperature is a concern, transport in a chilled thermos and then decant to the jar.) Give the sealed cream to the kids to shake until it thickens softly. Add a packet of sugar and shake again. Stir in sprinkles and voilà – pass it along with a tin of shortbread or mini-doughnuts and you have upscale Dunkaroos. Cleanup is a matter of carrying out what you brought in. Head home while carols and brass band fanfare hang in the frosty air.
Host a holiday party, Dan Pelosi style: cookies, and nothing else
If you do want to host at home, eliminate the high-stakes of a main-event meal. Invite pals to midmorning brunch. Task one with squeezing juice, someone else coffee. Slide almond croissants beside croque monsieurs into the oven, having prepped both the night before.
Or host a game night thematically split from the festive blur. Court chaos and start with Poetry for Neanderthals or Codenames, then shift gears once everyone’s yelled-out and sunk into their chairs. Let folks serve themselves a one-pot, one-bowl feast such as congee or curry. Squares of chocolate nibbled between poker hands are dessert.
If ever in doubt, trust Ina Garten. Her ethos of “store bought is fine” gives permission to outsource without guilt and draw upon others’ expertise. A good terrine or touritère from a local butcher treats the host and guest. Add mustards, a punchy tomato chutney and cornichons.
Alternatively, order a tray of samosas, puris and all the toppings for chaat – chickpeas, potatoes, chutneys, chopped veg. Hit up a South Asian shop for sev (the crunchy gram-flour noodles) and yogurt.
Tell folks to drop in, then buy bagels and smoked fish. Open a jar of capers, slice avocados, red onions and boiled eggs. Make compound butters and schmears. I’m into harissa-spiced squash, browned butter and whipped cranberry-cardamom, jalapeno popper cream cheese, or a French-onion-dip-adjacent spread that’s a step up from the usual scallion.
The bought becomes bespoke. Revel in abundance without anxiety.
If you’re set on formal, make it forgiving. Roast a chicken, or two, instead of a bigger bird. It’ll cook faster and stay juicier. Rub with salt and pepper, push butter and thyme under the skin if looking for some industry. Roast hot and walk away. Halfway through, to the pan add shallots, chunked parsnips, carrots and delicata squash slicked in olive oil. Cook some more. Shuffle things around periodically. While the chicken is resting, anoint the veg with a nice vinegar, more olive oil if needed and hot honey. Season well. Tumble in a handful of currants and some torn chicories. Done.
Or opt for a make-ahead dish to remove the bulk of the last-minute push. Marcella Hazan’s famed Bolognese improves as it sits. Prep shaved fennel and citrus segments as it burbles. Assemble a tiramisu, which needs a chance to turn lush. Chill everything overnight. Only when needed, reheat the sauce, boil some pasta, dress the salad.
Drinks should be batched crowd-pleasers. Nobody expects individually muddled cocktails in 2025. Pitchers are chic again. So is being freed from the bar cart.
This is not all to say that some things aren’t worth the time. But, bravely edit. Know what deserves your energy and brings unmitigated, personal joy, be it making your grandfather’s butter tarts or festooning each doorway with evergreen boughs. Instead of curating a tablescape for Instagram, turn your focus toward the faces around it.
And let people help. It’s a very Canadian flaw, this reluctance to accept offers. Don’t be polite. Be smart. Say yes, enthusiastically, to your cousin’s jollof rice, your coworker’s playlist and your best friend’s champurrado. Treat it like a group project and let everyone take part.
Sit down. Eat the thing while it’s hot. It’s your holiday, too.