Do nothing or do fondue: the essential host’s guide to New Year’s Eve
You cannot avoid New Year’s Eve. It comes careering round the corner after Christmas so fast that you must be prepared. But this does not mean you have to actually plan something. It is perfectly acceptable to plan to do nothing, in fact. But you must be confident about it, then you might just slip over into 2024 without so much as a bump on the other side.
Alternatively, stir yourself and follow my tried and tested advice below.
The Nothing Plan
Whether you live alone, with a cat, a hamster, six labradors, a snake, a partner, a big family or your elderly mother, this could well turn into your greatest New Year’s Eve yet. Having a Nothing Plan banishes any insecurities or sadnesses you might feel at having no plan. Because your plan to do nothing is deliberate.
It can include highlights like drinking a chilled glass of Greek assyrtiko while watching an old episode of Top of The Pops from 1973 and eating a cooked-from-frozen chicken Kyiv with some spinach. A Nothing Plan enables you to tell people with total clarity and utter conviction that you are DOING NOTHING. But be careful, because the assyrtiko and ToTP concept actually sounds so nice that before you know it, everyone will pile in and you’ll find you’ve got an Actual Plan on your hands. Disaster.
The Modest Plan
We’re in pals-around-the-kitchen-table/dinner-party territory here and, because we’re edging dangerously close to December 31, if you’ve not made a Big Plan yet, I suggest you stick with this – unless you can corral 250 people round to your place last minute and have the staff on hand to cater.
Because there is nothing more tragic than letting people know you’re having a huge last-minute party and then not being able to get anyone to come. Nor, should you manage to rally the troops, is there anywhere to host you if you decide to head out – this was only possible during the 1990s when a restaurant called Cleopatra existed in London’s Notting Hill. You could call them up and say, “Hi, have you got a table in 10 minutes for about 50 people?” And they’d say, “Yes, what name is it?”
Pick the menu
Having decided to execute your Modest Plan, get to work. Keep your gathering to a modest six to eight people. You can make just as much noise and have just as much fun with that number than with a huge crowd. And it allows you to choose from these two scenarios (recommended to you from my real-life successes):
The Fondue Dinner
If you’re even slightly cynical about this idea, simply mention to your invitees that you’re serving fondue and observe as they almost froth with excitement. Get a fondue set (this is essential. Do not attempt to make do with just a bowl and toothpicks; it would be like trying to mow the lawn with your teeth – impractical and looks very silly). Order one on Amazon, arriving tomorrow.
If you’re a hopeless cheesemelter, or are vexed at the idea of mixing gruyere and comté with white wine, cornflour and kirsch, buy a block of ready-made fondue cheese (from Waitrose or Amazon, arriving tomorrow) which won’t be as piquant and Alpine-tasting but will work. Then all you need is crudités, bread and maybe steak to dip. Have plenty of wine (more on that shortly), shots of akvavit at the ready, select a cheese fondue playlist on Spotify (you’ll be surprised how many there are) and have literally the most amusing evening of your life.
The Posh Menu
Those who disapprove of the finer flavours of life should look away now (as should your bank manager). For your starter: oysters (get a shucker and metal gloves – that’s right, arriving tomorrow). Second course: foie gras on white toast or brioche. Main course: Beef Wellington with creamed spinach.
Dessert: shop-bought chocolate pots. Cheese (because of course there must be cheese): comté, Bath Soft Cheese, crackers. Too much? Too rich? Don’t worry; life will never be this good again. And if it’s all too pricey, share the load with your friends. Get one to bring oysters, another the foie, another the Wellington. You do the pud and cheese and your phone won’t beep with fraud messages from your bank.
Sort your drinks
For any culinary choice, keep it simple. Have gin (I’m currently liking Fishers) and tonic (Double Dutch), large ice cubes (it shows you mean business; get a mould, arriving tomorrow), one white (a decent chardonnay, a lovely assyrtiko), one red (pinot noir if you can afford, or cabernet franc if not) and one fizz. Everyone helps themselves, make that clear when they arrive. People love arriving in other people’s houses and mixing and pouring their own drinks.
Don’t forget midnight
Ensure your eat time is later than normal so you don’t have to drag the thing on to reach midnight. Get the radio/TV channel sorted in advance. Do not be running around in a blind panic trying to get the chimes of Big Bang, only to miss it. We all like a countdown. Especially if Tony Blackburn is doing it. Squeeze your other half (or hamster or mother), kiss them, tell them thank you and that you love them. If you are hosting, do that first, before you do the same thing to your friends. And don’t be shy, because what happens after midnight doesn’t count, right?
