The Man Test Dinner

Does he barbeque? Carve? Whip cream? One good test of the quality of a man is how he behaves at dinner parties.

A friend of mine, who recently went through a bad break-up, told me that as part of her pull-herself-back-together process she’d written a list of everything she wants in the next man she allows into her life, and she plans to stick to it. I tried writing one of those lists once. It was a “Dear Santa” like you’ve never seen, full of fantastic demands for “witty! positive! go-getter! money savvy! can fix dripping tap!” … all in the same gift-wrapped package. Once I’d got my profile drawn up, though, I realized they were in fact all qualities I wished I had in myself, so it turned into more of a motivational list (which may explain why I’m still single … )

I have yet to draft a new guy list, then, but here’s one requirement that would be on it: any man who has intentions with me must rise to his role at dinner parties. Let me be specific: he must deal with wine and other drinks, he must carve, and he must rush to my aid just before dessert if there’s any cream that needs whipping. (I like cream whipped by hand with a whisk, incidentally. It’s more billowy and soft that way.) Oh, and he must also operate any barbeques on the scene because if I were so much as to open the lid on one of those contraptions, I’m sure I’d blow myself up.

Now, before you write me off as some sexist throw-back to the 1940s, allow me to say that I was brought up in a household where conventional duties very often blurred: my father baked the cookies; my mother checked the air in the tires. I have no problem with reversed roles. My point is that if one person covers territory X, the other must cover territory Y. And, in my house, I’m the one who bakes the cookies. So …

Let’s start with the most obvious job for a man: wine. I adore good wines, and I appreciate finesse, but, I take zero pleasure in buying wine, chilling, decanting, serving, and all that razzmatazz. Luckily, many men seem to find all this as thrilling as hunting for bison, so I not only let them go to it, I insist! As long as they do it right: make sure the wines selected are delicious and go nicely with my food, that they’re at the right temperature; and that the glasses have no spots, are filled to the right level and stay that way throughout the evening. I know a woman, who, whenever her wine glass sits empty for too long at parties, places it on her head. I’ve tried this. It is a very effective way of drawing attention to bad service.

Carving. Ah, the pride of a true knight! I read once, I think in a Margaret Visser book, that the sure sign of a knight of any stature was when he could ride up to the table on horseback and, with his sword, carve the roasts with exquisite precision … wait for it … without getting off the horse! Well, be still my beating heart. I’m not quite that demanding, but, let me tell you, I’m not dealing with the turkey on Thanksgiving. Once I’ve stuffed it and roasted it, my job’s done – and yours, gentlemen, has just begun. Ditto to all roasts and grilled items throughout the year. This is my daydream: I pull my perfect roast from the oven and set it on a board to rest, then monsieur, after precisely the right time lapse, comes along with the carving set, masterfully transforms my triumph into slices, lays them on a platter, and delivers it to the table. Sigh.

Grills and barbeques: you’re on your own, boys …

Now, about the whipping cream: this is a job that I normally do, but the trouble is that by the time dessert comes along (four hours or so into a dinner party), I’m whipped myself! I get it started – beat, beat – and after about three minutes when I see it’s still barely foamy, I give up, carry the bowl to the table, and plunk it into the hands of some unsuspecting male. Generally, the bowl gets passed around in circles like a kind of collection plate so there can be a charming social element here: a lively little parlour-game variation on hot potato!

Warning: the last time I outsourced the whipping cream task it was to my lovely friend Ian, who had also kindly taken on wine and carving duties that night. Ian has got way too keen on sports lately (dragon boat racing, softball, volleyball, among others), so this no doubt explains what happened: in a split, Ian nearly turned the cream to butter. I had barely turned my back on what were very soft peaks when the next thing I knew Ian (pecks burning! eyes alight!) was holding an almost curdled mass which was seconds away from wanting rinsing, salting, and spreading on rye.

Never mind, the good guys are quick learners. (And Ian is happily married, no small wonder!) In my experience, men who instinctively adopt their dinner party duties with grace are also the ones who turn out to be decent human beings in the wider world.

Menu:

• Leg of Lamb with Green Sauce
• Green Beans with Shallot and Pine Nuts
• Baked Tomatoes
• Buttered Kasha
• Angel Cake with Berries and Whipped Cream

Leg of Lamb with Green Sauce For further embellishment, you can make slits all over the lamb with the tip of a sharp knife and insert slivers of garlic or pieces of anchovy here and there. Also, I can’t see any reason not to experiment with the herbs, trying, for instance, mint or basil sometime in place of coriander. At my dinner party, we ate this exactly as below, but if you’re really doing a hard-core test on your guy, make him grill the leg outside. Makes: six servings.

For the lamb

• One 4 to 5 pound (1.8 to 2.2 kg) leg of lamb
• Salt and pepper
• A drizzle of olive oil

For the sauce

• 2 generous handfuls chopped fresh parsley
• 2 generous handfuls chopped fresh coriander
• 1 large pink shallot
• 2 heaping tablespoon capers, rinsed and drained
• Peel of 1 preserved lemon (optional)
• Zest of 1 lemon
• 2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
• 1/4 cup/60 ml good extra virgin olive oil, more if needed
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Heat the oven to 450°F/230°C. Season the lamb with salt and pepper and rub lightly with olive oil. Roast the lamb 20 minutes, lower the heat to 400°F/200°C, and continue roasting for 40 minutes to an hour, until done to your liking (internal temperature of 275°F/140°C for medium-rare, 325°F/160°C for medium). Remove from the oven and let rest 15 minutes. Now let a man take over and dazzle you with his carving skills.

For the sauce, which you can make while the lamb is in the oven, very finely chop the herbs and put them in a bowl. Mince the shallot, capers, and preserved lemon, and add. Add the zest, vinegar, and olive oil. Stir together, taste, and add salt and pepper as needed. (If it needs more acid, add a squirt of lemon juice). Serve with the lamb.

Green Beans Anticipate a generous handful for each person. Top and tail the beans. Cook them al dente in a large pot of boiling salted water. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking. Before serving, reheat in a sauté pan with some olive oil, turning occasionally with tongs. At the end, toss through a few handfuls of toasted pine nuts, grind over pepper, and serve.

Baked Tomatoes You need one tomato per person. Cut them in half through their waists and season the tops with salt and pepper. Set them in around the lamb for the last 20 minutes of roasting.

Kasha I buy my kasha (toasted buckwheat groats) from a Ukrainian specialty shop, as it is far superior to anything sold in bulk most places. You’ll know the difference: good kasha stays in separate, al dente grains when cooked; inferior kasha turns to mush. So, put 2 cups/400 g kasha in a pot. Cover with 4 cups/1 litre water. Bring to a boil, cover, and cook gently until done, about 15 minutes. Stir through a piece of butter and some chopped parsley. It will be wonderfully fragrant, nutty and honey-scented at once, with just the right amount of bite.

Caroline’s Angel Cake with Whipped Cream and Berries This is so fabulous and easy you’re going to die and go to heaven. My friend Caroline, who supplied this dessert the other night, says bought cakes are best, so just get one at the grocery store. Then buy lovely ripe blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries (the latter you can cut up to release the juices a bit). Toss the berries with some sugar and let sit for an hour or so, if you have time. When you’re ready for dessert, get your man to whip plenty of cream with a hint of sugar and a little splash of vanilla. Cut the cake in half through the middle and set the bottom on a platter. Spread over some of the cream and lay on a few handfuls of berries. Put the top back on. Spread the remaining cream all over the cake, and top with the remaining berries. It will look completely outlandish and flouncy, and it will disappear in a flash. The men had 3 helpings each the other night (oh, there’s another “must”: must have a good appetite)!