ENTERTAINING IN THE MODERN APARTMENT--A LITTLE SUNDAY NIGHT SUPPER--STAG
SUPPERS--A BACHELOR SUPPER.
There are some people to whose distorted vision the tiniest molehills
are magnified into veritable chains of mountains, rugged and
insurmountable; and if, in addition to their other woes, they happen to
be unfortunate enough to dwell in a flat, their desolation is complete.
To these women what is said on the subject of entertaining in a modern
apartment will possess not one atom of interest. Before their horrified
eyes will gleam a thousand unsolvable difficulties, and an attempt to
successfully evade them might engulf them still further, so this appeal
for the much maligned "tenement" of the day is to some bright little
woman whose very touch transforms and whose ready brain devises with
unerring accuracy.
First; it is not to be supposed, if you are dwelling in a modern
apartment, that your wealth is unlimited, your resources illimitable and
just for that very reason your fertile brain has far more opportunity to
exercise its originality than if you merely telephoned "covers for
twelve" to some fashionable caterer, stepped into an evening gown held
by an obsequious maid, and exhibited your jewels at the head of your
well appointed table, conscious (if not troubled) by the fact that this
same man was turning out well-served dinners by the dozen, shaping them
all (like his ice-cream) in certain fashionable moulds.
We all retain just enough of the old Adam to relish a well earned
victory, and the old lady whose light hand for cake is the talk of the
township, is just as much of an artist in her own way as the fashionable
decorator. It is almost as impossible to set down a given rule for
entertaining as it was for the old darkey to present in tangible form
her famous recipe for pones. "Why, honey," said she, "it's easy enuf. I
jes stir up a little cohn meal and watah, adds some salt and other truck
and cooks it till it's done. Sho nuf you cud make it yousef."
It is quite as often the hand that stirs the cake as well as the
ingredients themselves that makes the entertainment successful.
There are some women who have a perfectly inexplicable talent for making
life livable. Under their deft fingers awkward curtains and draperies
assume classic form; from their imaginations blossom forth the most
marvelous devices for entertainment and comfort; their ferns never have
scales and their umbrella plants do not wither at the edges. These are
the women who, with studied patience and ready tact, overlook the small
ills our flesh is heir to and bring forth into the bright sunshine the
many opportunities which everyone's life contains.
A woman who lives in an apartment so tiny and modest it would seem at
first glance almost impossible to entertain therein, can study its best
effects and give as charming little dinners as were ever attended. Her
dining room, small but cosy, seems made for decoration and her table may
well be the delight of many a more ambitious hostess. The decorations,
simple, inexpensive and artistic, are the outward and visible signs of
her individual taste. No thick stalks of unbending and forbidding
"bouquets" disfigure her pretty vases. Her candles gleam through dainty
shades (of paper it is true) fashioned by her own deft fingers.
Full-skirted and fluffy, their inexpensiveness makes it quite possible
to have them of all colors and shades, and a much-prized pair of silver
candelabra lend dignity to the general effect.
Quiet entertaining, preceded by gracious little notes presaging a
cordial welcome, is one of her fancies, and one is quite sure that at
her home the entertainment will be deprived of customary stiffness and
will resolve into a merry table of congenial friends.
A short time ago an old friend of such a woman became engaged and
wishing to meet his fiancee she followed her call by an invitation to
supper. Appreciating the newness of the engagement and her slight
acquaintance with the young lady, she wisely made it a little supper of
four and decked her table with sweet simplicity.
Her china, of dainty Limoges, was purchased with an idea of being
serviceable for many occasions, and is mostly in odd half-dozens,
although the color scheme throughout is green and white, a combination
which blends well with anything. Her soup plates, tea plates, dinner
plates, platters and vegetable dishes are of the same pattern, but the
china for the entree, the salad set, dessert set, cheese plates, bread
and butter plates, etc., are all of a different but harmonizing design.
Green and white being always a lovely color for the table and also
admitting of very inexpensive treatment, make informal suppers not only
quite possible but very attractive as well.
The table was round, just large enough for four, and nearly covered with
a pretty lunch cloth embroidered in white. In the center a huge
butterfly bow of wide green ribbon that just matched the china trailed
nearly to the edge of the table. Over the cloth were scattered white
carnations and ferns in artistic carelessness, and two slender
candlesticks, with generously green skirted candles, broke the flat
effect. Each candlestick wore, with holiday gayness, a large green bow,
and the soft combination of color and grouping was charming.
The supper itself was very simple. A course of raw oysters and stuffed
mangoes, with the usual accompaniment of horseradish and lemon, came
first. Quail on toast with quince jelly (the jelly served in individual
forms on tiny leaves of lettuce) followed with stuffed potatoes as an
accompaniment and a delicious little chestnut salad was next in order.
The dessert was a rich chocolate cream, stiffened with gelatine and
moulded round with a large hole in the center. This was filled high with
thick cream, whipped, sweetened and flavored with maraschino. The
bonbons, of green and white, added the last touch of harmonic color to
the dainty little feast.
A LITTLE SUNDAY NIGHT SUPPER.
Shortly after this, encouraged by her success, she gave a little Sunday
night supper to introduce two young people to each other. The table, as
before, was round, but the colors used were yellow and white.
A large round tea cloth, fashioned by the hostess, covered the table. In
the center five ragged yellow chrysanthemums were fastened together with
a wide yellow ribbon and wired to a slender upright, which they entirely
concealed. Just inside the circle formed by the plates, glasses, etc., a
wavy circle of smilax trailed and ran out into little curves between the
plates. Nothing more simple could be imagined, but the guests had a very
appreciative look as they were seated. Getting acquainted under such
conditions was a very natural and easy process.
The supper was simplicity itself, and consisted of a clam cocktail;
frilled French chops with green peas; a rarebit made in the chafing-dish
and a rich lemon ice for dessert. In connection there were, it is
unnecessary to add, many delicious accompaniments. Brown bread
sandwiches, thin as wafers, were passed with the cocktail. Bread
accompanied the chops, the rarebit was served in a bank of cress, with
lettuce and cress sandwiches, and the ice was made even more delicious
by the addition of stuffed champagne wafers. A pleasant time in the
host's den followed, and thus, a happy little evening, quite within the
reach of anyone, was made possible by a little forethought.
The apartment in which this woman lives has only six rooms, so you can
imagine that entertaining (in its ordinary sense) is somewhat out of the
question, but very charming little "at homes" are given once a month
during the winter, and as the parlor and den adjoin, and are cosily
furnished to correspond, it is quite possible to entertain in this way.
If you attend her "Wednesdays" in December you will be ushered in by a
neat little maid in frilled cap and apron and black sateen gown. You
will find your hostess in the parlor with half-a-dozen others, and,
think you have a glimpse into Japanese fairyland. The den is somewhat
denuded of its ordinary furnishings, but the bizarre posters still
remain on the walls, and the couch, covered with a scrawly Japanese
creton, is still in evidence. Wires are stretched from picture moulding
to picture moulding, and Japanese lanterns swing gayly from above. In
one corner a huge paper umbrella, dangling with unlighted lanterns,
bright hued and tiny, swings over a low tea table, at which sits one of
the hostess' friends in Japanese array. Her dark eyes, blackened into
almond-shaped slits, vie with her decorated hair in foreign effect. From
dainty little Japanese cups we drink the tea she makes for us and thank
fortune there is one woman in the world at least who dares trifle with
the conventional "at home" and eliminate its objectionable features.
While drinking your tea you nibble at rolled Tutti Fruitti wafers, munch
delicious home-made bonbons, stuffed figs and nougat (for which your
hostess is so famous), revel in a huge Japanese jar (strangely like a
familiar umbrella stand) which holds five great ragged yellow
chrysanthemums with stems nearly three feet long, and finally settle
yourself down to listen to some quaint little love song, with guitar
accompaniment, sung by a dear little maid with bronze-brown hair.
This hostess limits each "at home" to twenty-five, so small a number it
makes the average hostess smile, but, if necessary, gives four or five
through the winter, as she needs no service beyond that of her own maid,
making the expense marvelously small. She has many friends who feel as
you do, that one bid to a sociable little "five o'clock" in her
doll-house flat is worth all the receptions of a week on gay upper Fifth
Avenue.
The first Saturday evening in each month, from November until April, she
and her husband are at home to his bachelor friends and any young
married people who can endure the suffocating atmosphere. All the easy
chairs are pressed into service, the little iron lanterns blink
joyously, and story-telling, music and smoking are the order of the
evening. The light being dim, positions are uncertain and bachelor
manners prevail, so unrestrained jollity reigns, and though the people
in the other flats may hear the echoing laughter they pass it over with
a good natured tolerance and wonder what there is that is so funny.
About half-past ten, when stories wane and a change seems desirable, the
little low tea table appears and a rarebit, souffle of oysters, or some
chafing-dish dainty, is prepared by the hostess. Occasionally, when one
of the men has a firmly founded reputation for some special dish he is
asked to officiate, which he does amid the joyous jokes of his
roistering colleagues, while everyone within reach renders able
assistance and the others keep up a running fire of disabling comments.
If one is willing to take advantage of their very present opportunities
it seems to me that limited means lose half their disadvantages. Choose
your apartment with a view to entertaining. If your bed-room opens from
the parlor make it dainty and sweet and close the portieres until merely
a glimpse appears.
Wax your hardwood floors and keep them shining like mirrors; if rugs are
scarce they will be a good apology. Make your friends welcome and give
them a good time when they come. An old-fashioned candy-pull is often
more entertaining than the most elaborately prepared function.
A STAG SUPPER. 1.
In the main room have a mellow light from two or three swinging iron
lanterns and several in Japanese paper. Off in one of the corners, have
a cut-glass bowl filled with punch and around it a ring of smilax. The
guests select their places by each choosing the name of one of six
popular actresses. A silver tray containing six small blank envelopes is
passed, and in each envelope is enclosed one of the host's cards, on the
back of which is inscribed the name of an actress. Passing into the
dining-room they find, at each place, a photo to correspond, on the back
of which is written some well-known quotations from the actresses' most
famous plays. These photos are removed from their original cards by
soaking, and are rebuffed and mounted on rectangular mats of dull gray,
on which the inscriptions are written in white ink.
In the dining room over the heavy damask cloth, is stretched a quaint
old German table runner, reaching from end to end of the table. In the
center, embroidered in the red cotton used in such work, hospitality
encourages jollity in the familiar old motto, "Ein froher Gast is
Niemand's Last" (a merry guest is no one's burden). "Wein, Weib und
Geasang," the faithful trio, is all represented. At each place, beside
the napkin, is a rich red rose, just large enough to form a dainty
boutonniere.
Mounds of red pickled cabbage accompany the oysters, rich tomato soup
follows, and the nougat ice cream is decorated with candied cherries.
The introduction of the bonbons in the form of candy cigars, tied in
bunches with the familiar yellow bands, causes amusement. Brandy is
burned on the coffee, and genuine cigars passed.
A STAG SUPPER. 2.
Turn the ballroom into a "roof garden" for a bachelor supper. Cover the
walls with canvas or grey cartridge paper painted to imitate grey bricks
with ivy leaves painted over the surface. In each window arrange a
little hedge of plants in pots and use screens of wire covered with
vines. Hang many colored lanterns from the roof and at intervals about
the room between tables and have tall branching standards with arms
from which hang the lanterns. Tall palms and bay-trees in tubs set about
the room add to the effect. Have a hidden orchestra to play airs from
the popular operas or have an impromptu vaudeville, the guests
furnishing the talent. A band of Gypsy fortune-tellers (men dressed to
imitate Gypsy girls) admitted at the close of the feast will furnish
fun, especially if they are men knowing the lives of the guests. Serve a
beefsteak supper with any kind of beverages you choose. For name cards
have steins cut from cardboard and decorated in imitation of the
Mettlach steins.
A BACHELOR SUPPER.
Have small mice pins for souvenirs. Decorate the long table in green
vines, white flowers and odd candle holders. Creeping in and out of the
vines have artificial snakes, frogs, and other reptiles. Have the
napkins held by toy spiders and fasten bats over the chandelier globes.
If one wishes a plain dinner serve oyster cocktails, tenderloin steak
with mushrooms, French fried potatoes, stewed corn, Lima beans, tomato
and onion salad with mayonnaise, cheesestraws, Bavarian cream, peach
cake, cheese, crackers, coffee. Pass cigars. Have colored waiters who
are good singers and between each course have them give a jubilee song.
After dinner let them entertain the guests with songs, and banjo and
guitar music.