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Holiday Dine: All tomorrow's parties
Whip out the Cointreau, So-Co eggnog and Sarah Vaughn CDs—it's party season

by Matthew Stafford

Everyone has her own particular lineup of holiday traditions. Many people embrace the rites and folklore of their chosen faith. Others make a fetish of variegated lighting schemes and the aroma of rum-soaked citron. Some head up to Tahoe and drink and gamble until the whole damned thing's over with. Me, I like to throw a party.

This isn't an unusual plan of action on my part. I tend to throw parties. The reason doesn't matter: Mardi Gras, the harvest moon, the long-awaited arrival of mint julep season. As author, bon vivant and personal spirit guide Eugene Walter once said, "If I ever found myself with 10 dollars, I'd throw a party. If I had 200 dollars, I'd throw a very good party." Season and occasion aside, however, any party's ultimate achievement should be the confluence of a hopefully offbeat assortment of people in a setting conducive to both provocation and repose.

The Christmas party is a species unto itself, with several subgenres: the all-day open-house groaning-board Currier & Ives WASP-fest; the fireside après-ski replete with hot buttered rum and designer sweaters; and of course, the holiday office party, with its alcohol-fueled tirades and inappropriate intradepartmental behavior.

I myself favor the classic cocktail party at this cold and numbing time of year. Here the shop-weary, bone-chilled doofus can find himself or herself in a lightly elegant and convivial ambiance vivid with good talk, appetizing nibbles, a sanctuary of warmth and the possibility of a perfectly chilled martini. Pulling off a good cocktail party isn't particularly difficult if you plan things ahead of time, know a few pleasantly expressive people, and are willing to donate a moderately enormous percentage of your holiday budget to the cause.

Among the collectibles (well, junk) I've accumulated over the years is a rather staggering array of cocktail and party how-to guides. These gin-dappled texts, some as ancient as the Hoover administration, offer a body of knowledge and wisdom ideal for the darkling hours and the splendid alchemy of mood, companion and essence of grape: Harry Craddock's Savoy Cocktail Book ("The best way to drink a cocktail is quickly, while it's laughing at you!"); Trader Vic's Book of Food and Drink ("For chrissakes make the canapés taste good"); and the Koran of cocktails, Bernard de Voto's The Hour ("You can no more keep a martini in the refrigerator than you can keep a kiss there"). From them and from the rigors of experience I have gleaned a number of helpful soiree-throwing hints over the years.

Of primary importance in the planning and execution of a cocktail party is of course the cocktail. Every year my dream is to have the liqueurs, juices, flavorings and firewater necessary to offer my guests any cocktail that has ever been contemplated or formulated; but that way lies madness, and it's perfectly sufficient to simply have on hand such basics as rum, tequila, scotch, gin, bourbon and vodka (LOTS of vodka). Complement these with a few liqueurs and cordials (brandy, crème de cacao, an orange-flavored liqueur like Cointreau or Triple Sec) to keep the chemists occupied, and don't forget the vermouth, a nice bottle of sherry, a few token bottles of wine (half your guests will bring a bottle or two as it is) and several six-packs of beer (a selection of seasonal brews is a nice touch). Also make sure to have lots of sodas and fruit juices on hand for both mixers and teetotalers—seltzer, tonic, ginger ale, orange, grapefruit and cranberry juices—plus a dozen lemons and limes for twists, wedges and fresh juice (never use bottled lemon or lime juice in a cocktail). And ice. Lots of ice.

Set up the bar with a selection of bar guides and gadgets off in a corner or out in the kitchen (placing the booze in a central, easily accessible location can lead to all manner of unwelcome excitement) and invite your guests to mix their own—interactivity is key to a convivial get-together—but don't be remiss in freshening the errant empty glass. (I said glass—nothing makes a cocktail less appealing than a plastic tumbler. Rent, borrow or purchase as many martini, highball, old-fashioned and wine glasses as you'll need.) In addition to the bar, it's nice to have a specialty drink or a punch as an especially festive centerpiece. This being Christmastime, eggnog is a fine option, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with setting out a bowl of Bud's eggnog jazzed with Southern Comfort and an attractive sprinkling of grated orange, lemon and nutmeg.

A good cocktail party demands delectable hors d'oeuvres, and a variety of tastes and textures—hot and cool, crisp and creamy, lush and spicy—is imperative. Equally important is spacing out the nibbles over the course of an evening so there's an ongoing array of flavors as well as plenty of grub for the latecomers. (The most cataclysmic thing I can think of is running out of food and having a guest go, if not hungry, then something less than bloated and happy.) I like to open the festivities with a bottle of chilled champagne and warm new potatoes stuffed with chives, sour cream and caviar; at midpoint I set out a platter of lox (or, when I can manage it, an entire smoked salmon) garnished with pumpernickel rounds, lemon wedges, a pepper mill and a bottle of Aquavit frozen in a block of ice; and conclude things with a mixture of crumbled Stilton, diced cooked beets, minced shallot and oil and sherry vinegar served on leaves of Belgian endive. In between, pass around canapés like seared medium-rare beef filets on crostini with crème fraiche and thyme, or broiled prawns marinated in a pesto of green chilis, cilantro, garlic and pine nuts. I usually end up putting together a dozen or so hors d'oeuvres, as many as possible prepared well beforehand.

One of the most important aspects of any party, from a tête-à-tête to a drunken brawl, is the ambient music. Although a touch of A Charlie Brown Christmas here and a little Ella Fitzgerald Wishes You a Swingin' Christmas there is seasonally kosher, at holiday time it's best to concentrate almost entirely on festive, but not overwhelming, Yuletide-ish sounds. Your guests have been bombarded with every conceivable variation on the reindeer-and-snowfall songbook since mid-October, and they'll be delighted to come upon an oasis of secular sounds as they enter your domain. Pick stuff that goes well with clinking glassware, flirtatious laughter, crackling Yule logs and proactive cocktail shakers—tunes that add that final aural touch to the fragrance of pine needles, the flavor of juniper and the glow of a mist-shrouded moon. Personal favorites include Count Basie and Joe Williams, Sarah Vaughn's Swingin' Easy, Sinatra's A Swingin' Affair, Miles Davis's Round About Midnight and Vince Guaraldi, Bola Sete, and Friends.

All that remains is to get your place clean and tidy, set out a bunch of candles and greenery and bowls of Hershey's kisses, light a fire if you have the facilities and put a little Cal Tjader on the stereo. And as the hour approaches and the candles are lit and your guests gather at your door, remember E.B. White's definition of the most beautiful sound in the world:

The tinkle of ice at twilight.