What could be your key to fame and glory, the secret to a happy marriage, and the only way to make it through the entertaining season with grace and aplomb? Why, it’s the cocktail party, dahling. Libations aside, the best reason for hosting this type of gathering is that success doesn’t depend on a mass of properly roasted meat and a harmonious table. Scoring a hit is much easier when you can focus on the area your eaters care about most: the hors d’oeuvre.
Think about it: How many times have you been enthralled by the appetizer portion of a restaurant menu, only to be bored and dismayed by the entrées? Those inspired small bites are seductive, for this is one area where chefs get to play a little, test some boundaries, and still leave you wanting more. Isn’t that also the recipe for a really great party?
Hors d’oeuvre, that nightmare for proofreaders, is a French phrase meaning “outside of the work.” Originally an architect’s term for any structure not incorporated into the main building design, it somehow crept into the culinary lexicon as the appetizer served before the main dish. Similarly, an amuse-bouche, or “mouth amuser,” is an even smaller one-bite treat, usually offered in restaurants as a gift from the chef. Nearly every culture has some sort of noshing culture: Italians eat cured meats and marinated vegetables for their antipasto, Peruvians snack on tasty fried bocaditos, Russians put out a spread of zakuski to nibble while sharing vodka, and the Spanish have made an art of sampling tapas.
Starters, as hors d’oeuvres are more popularly termed, can come stacked into tiny towers, rolled and stuffed, filled and folded; they include dips, spreads, salsas, and fondues. They can be foie-gras fussy or chip ’n’ dip simple. When considering what to serve for a party, it’s simple to hit upon the right combination: Know thy guest. Always consider those for whom you cook, and the rest will fall into place.
A truly victorious hors d’oeuvre is one that speedily disappears from the tray. People may claim to love your Grape-Nuts Balls, but if you have thirty left over at the end of the night, it was a bomb; time to regroup. Champion appetizers tend to be simple but loaded with flavor; there may be much advance prep work, but the final construction should be easily executed, as you’ll have to keep refilling that tray. Bonus points go to the bites that don’t drip, fall apart on the way from tray to mouth, or require ladies to chomp down in unseemly nutcracker doll-like ways. Below are a few that fit the bill.
Crostini: The versatile standby
Arrange baguette slices on a sheet tray. Brush the rounds with olive oil and dash with sea salt. Place in a 400-degree oven for about ten minutes, or until nicely browned. Remove from oven and let cool. Smear with a mixture of goat cheese, mascarpone, and lemon zest, and perch a kalamata olive on top. Or top with Roquefort and drizzle with lavender honey. Or lay on a fat slice of ventresca tuna topped with a curl of roasted red pepper and one rosemary leaf. Or try a hunk of dark, dark chocolate. Or do whatever moves you.
Cuke Cups: Fresh elegance
Peel and slice a seedless cucumber into two-inch chunks. With a melon baller, scoop out the center of each, leaving a bottom. Dice sashimi-grade tuna into small cubes, toss with sesame oil, soy sauce, mirin, black sesame seeds, chives, and a touch of Sriracha. Spoon tuna into cuke cups and top with more chives.
Bleu Cheese Chips: For the culinarily challenged
Pile a bag of kettle-fried potato chips on a plate. Stir bleu cheese crumbles into crème fraîche to achieve a dressing consistency, and add a touch of Tabasco. Drizzle over the chips, top with more bleu cheese crumbles. No kidding.
Deconstructed Guacamole: Built to impress
Using toothpicks, skewer a half-cut cherry tomato with the flat side down. Then thread a sliver of white onion onto the skewer, a chunky square of avocado, a bit of peeled lime, and a flag of cilantro. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Root-beer Float Shooters: A sweet novelty
Using shot glasses, pour a dash of root-beer schnapps, a half-tablespoon of ice cream, and fill with root beer. Cap with a dollop of whipped cream.
Frico Crisps: The cracker alternative
Line a sheet tray with parchment paper. Grate small piles of Parmigiano-Reggiano, about two inches around, onto paper, spaced apart. Sprinkle finely chopped sage onto each pile. Place in a 400-degree oven for 45 minutes until mounds are melty. Remove from the oven and let cool for a minute. Lift rounds from tray with a spatula and mold them around the back of a metal spoon to give a curve.
