Dear Melissa:
I don’t know if you can help with this, but I dread hosting Thanksgiving again this year. How do I avoid another Thanksgiving from hell? K.R., Guilford, CT
Dear K:
Based on the movies and countless books dealing with the subject, I’d say Thanksgiving is a universal problem. I personally think it’s because this is the only mandatory family celebration with no gift-giving to focus on, so it’s pure family dynamics. Or should I say “dramatics”?
I’d approach this the way any good events planner would. Think about the last time you had a wonderful dinner at someone’s house. Unless it was the home of a great chef, it wasn’t the food you’re remembering fondly; it was the atmosphere. Since Thanksgiving is an emotional minefield for most people, my favorite solution is to invite a guest who is unrelated. This completely changes the group dynamics, giving everyone a neutral person to talk to. Plus they have to be on their best behavior in front of a stranger. You can return the favor to this person next year. (And amazingly, this person usually has a great time with your relatives.)
If it’s too late to drag someone in off the street, distract your guests in other ways.
Shake up your tired routines. If you always serve a sit-down meal, have a buffet. If everyone is always crowded into your dining room, set up some tables in the living room in front of the fire. If you opt for a buffet, create a tablescape. To do this you group together any sturdy household objects of varying heights: paint cans, books, solid cartons, upturned pots, etc. Toss one or two cloths over these and tuck them in. This should look like a fabric mountain range. Arrange platters of food on the different levels and intersperse cut flowers, votive candles, etc., among them. This is a very dramatic presentation.
Do something interesting with the dining table. Go to the craft store and pick up pheasant feathers and ostrich eggs. Send your kids out to collect autumn leaves. Pick up some miniature pumpkins and assorted gourds. Arrange all these in a basket for an atypical centerpiece. If you’ve already ordered flowers, scatter some of these among the blooms. By next week, it’ll be dim enough even at midday for candlelight to make an impact. Forget those two anemic tapers from the grocery store and spread 20 unscented votive and pillar candles around the table and room. Just place them strategically so that toddlers don’t keep blowing them out. And if Tabby didn’t head for the hills with the first ringing of the doorbell, don’t worry, I have it on good authority that cats’ tails are self-extinguishing.
Don’t forget soft music. It does “calm the savage breast”. Let the football game play in the other room and provide trays for the fans who can’t wait for the meal to end. (Don’t assume this means males only.) Look at the bright side of this: you’ll be facing fewer people at one time, with another group to join if the current conversation gets unpleasant.
