a party-party

In our house, five is the magic number for dinner parties. Part of this is out of necessity -- we can only squeeze five people around our dining table. It also makes menu planning easy. Most recipes feed six to eight people, so you're always covered food-wise. But I also think five is a good number for conversations. It's intimate but still lively enough that it feels like a party. You never go to bed feeling like you didn't get a chance to talk to everyone and missed out on good gossip.

But like many people who love to entertain at home, I've held onto a fantasy of hosting a really big party. Not five people, more like 25. I would swan around, refilling drinks and setting out tray after tray of delightful finger foods, dropping into conversations here and there. Now, this is unrealistic for many reasons, mostly because our circle of friends has been whittled down over the years thanks to people moving out of New York (losers!). Also, I don't own 25 forks. And don't really like making an entire menu of finger foods.

So when I decided to throw a housewarming party for our new apartment, I struck a compromise with myself and invited eight people for a party of 10, counting Dan and myself. Ten seemed do-able. I would make a ton of food and it would be an actual party. Not a dinner party, a party-party.

In the end, it ended up being five adults and one toddler. And did I make less food? Absolutely not.

spring on a plate

There's been a lot of talk about spring around here, I know. It was just such a long winter, guys. You have no idea. (Or maybe you live in New York and you do.) And now the trees are back and bright green things are starting to reappear at the markets again. People are strolling around in sandals. And it's glorious. (Well, not today. Today it is raining. And that's part of spring too.)

And there are these scallops, lightly seared and served in a pool of pale green, herby cream sauce. The dish is so light and delicate there's no better time to make it than right now. Sure, you could eat it in the summer or fall, but something about it feels so spring.