Like so many things, the rules and expectations on entertaining company have changed, a lot, over the last generation.  Not that I really knew much about them, as my mother was a widow with six children, a mother and brother,  and not much need or desire to entertain. As it was, we were nine sitting down to dinner every night; isn’t that enough?

But then, I had to marry into an Armenian family, one of those with a love of food, and a tradition of entertaining, lots of people, frequently.  I wasn’t too clear on this going in, that it would eventually be my turn to have people over and feed them good food, all at the same time.  I’m still not the hostess with the mostess; it’s by no means natural to me, but I’ve learned a few tricks along the way, and a lot comes with practice, and having the right pots, pans and serving dishes on hand. Who knew?

 My mother-in-law may be even more prone to giving a dinner party at the drop of a hat than other women of her age and generation.  She’s an organizer, planner, and she enjoys doing it. Even today, at 84 with a back that hurts, MIL takes on luncheons for twelve or a buffet for fifteen, and would do a sit-down dinner for twenty, I believe, if the occasion arose.  She’s got it all down to a science – the pots, the timing, the recipes, etc.  I marvel at her abilities, and have come to appreciate the pleasure she gets from it, and the pleasure she has given to others.

 Fortunately for me, my husband grew up around food, at the family food store, Eastern Lamejun Bakery, in Belmont, MA and is not afraid to cook for groups.  He likes his own cooking, he’s confident in the results, and he’s not afraid to vary and experiment. The only rule is, “stay out of the way” when he’s in the kitchen – ‘cause he doesn’t like interference or interruption. He is not above perusing cook books, and he will talk cooking with his mother, if need be. There are members of my family who have come to associate Donald with certain favorite dishes, and he makes them when we are together – case in point, the breaded pork chops for my mother. Yes, food is a way to the heart.

 Early in the marriage, we promulgated a deception on this cooking/entertaining business. When it was our turn to host a meal and/or to bring something for pot luck, the assumption was that I had made it. Not so. Not that we lied, but when someone said, “Erin, this is delicious.” my answer was, “Thank you. Glad you like it.” Could be a sticky moment if someone inquired about the recipe. It’s not my nature to lie or dissemble; I’m not good at it, and it makes me uncomfortable. It wasn’t too long before I disclosed the truth, and that Donald was the main chef at home. Perhaps a moment of surprise, but then we all passed on; after all, it was the food that counted. As for entertaining in the larger sense, I was always the mistress of small talk, and I’ve gotten quite good at opening a bottle of wine. I also like to bake, and happy to do desserts.

 Over the years, I’ve learned more how to prepare for the occasion, decorate, and even do some of the sous-chef work. In all, the pain is less; the pleasure more. Once I got over the idea that the meal was an occasion to show-off and/or to create social obligation, I came around to seeing the main purpose was a good time together without too much stress on anyone’s part.  Sadly, the family is spread wider, the occasions become fewer, and the last major holiday, Easter, we spent on an airplane on the way back from Florida. But I’ve learned the bigger lesson – it’s good to make time for other people, and sharing meal at your home is as basic as it gets.