Central Oregon Homes | Progressive Dinners

Progressive Dinners

WHILE THE TRADITIONAL DINNER PARTY still has cachet, a progressive dinner party is the way to add a little pizzazz and dash to an old standard. Staging a meal where the party moves from one location to another has lots of benefits, as well as a few drawbacks. The main plus is: It is fun.

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed my friend and running partner Cathy, when I invited her and her husband, Thor, to be a part of a progressive dinner. “That will be so fun. What can we make?”

I love Cathy and Thor, but I am no fool. Thor has been a professional chef and is one of the best cooks I know.

“Would you mind doing the main course?” I asked sweetly, pretending that I had not one ulterior-motive bone in my body.

A progressive dinner can be whatever you make it. It can be themed or not, simple or very elaborate, with lots of participants or just a few. I decided that a four-hour evening would be fine, so I limited the locations to three and the number of people to six. I also wanted to have one set of friends get to know another set, so I called Jim and Morri, friends I’ve known since college.

“Oh, fun—what can we make?” was Morri’s response.

Jim makes the best Caesar salad on the planet. Ulterior motive? Never! I was just planning to eat some of my favorite foods during this evening. “Would you mind doing salad?” I asked.

“That’s perfect,” said Morri. “We can be first and leave Wren and Weston [their children] with a sitter when we move the party.”

Far from being a dinner party where kids cannot participate, a progressive dinner party works really well for children. The party stays at each house for only about an hour, so the kids can grab some grub, politely associate with adults and then be off the hook for the rest of the evening.

I finalized the plans for my progressive dinner. “Honey,” I asked my boyfriend, Todd, who happens to make my favorite lemon cake, “do you mind if we do the dessert for our dinner?” “We” is an exaggeration. Todd’s passion is baking. “How about a dark chocolate cake with a warm macadamia-coconut-caramel topping?” was his response.

Seeing the expression on my face, he added graciously: “And I’ll make lemon cake for you, too.”

Managing the Logistics

The hardest part about throwing a progressive dinner party is finding a date and time that works for six busy people. The other “well-in-advance” requirement is to book babysitters and taxis.

It’s handy if the dinner participants live within walking distance of one another. A brisk walk between courses is a wonderful thing. If they don’t, and nobody wants to be the designated driver, it’s wise to share the cost of a cab and to book it in advance. John Flannery, who runs Green Energy Transportation and Tours—a handicapped-accessible shuttle service with vehicles that run on bio-diesel blended fuels—says he enjoys driving for progressive dinners, as long as he knows party locations and times in advance. (Contact: 541-408-6363.)

As the Saturday of our party approached, the phone calls began to fly. Todd and Thor conferred to make sure the dessert would complement the main course. Jim wondered if everyone could handle garlic in the Caesar. I grimly pondered my number of available dessert plates; Morri called to borrow a water pitcher, and Cathy serenely planned the look of her tablescape.

A progressive dinner is a team effort. It is a simple fact that nobody gets stuck with all the work. No one has to do huge amounts of dishes by themselves. Everyone must do a little planning, a little cleaning and, of course, share the expense.

The main course is often the most expensive part of a progressive dinner. It’s courteous to not force the main-dish hosts to foot too much of the bill—so it’s a nice touch, though not a hard-and-fast rule, to bring along a bottle of wine or some good beer that will complement the dinner.

“Oh, no, I have my wine pairing all planned,” Thor said when I offered to bring a bottle or two. This chef is particular, so as a payback, I vowed to have Grand Marnier on hand at my house.

From Their House to Our House

The day of our party, I decided to act as designated driver. Thor, Cathy, Todd and I arrived at Jim and Morri’s place, to the squeals of excited three-year-olds, who were all dressed up for the party. As we entered their home, we inhaled the delectable smell of the bruschetta Morri had prepared.

My friends were right—a progressive party is fun. We oohed and aahed over the beautiful table Morri had set for us. We inhaled the crusty bread rounds and watched Jim make his Caesar salad, then sat and toasted our first course. We talked theater and books and movies. Then the hour was up and it was time to move on.

The drive was part of the fun. Morri popped her favorite music in the CD player, and the van rocked with laughter. I noticed that the couple who was “off the hook” relaxed a little, while the next couple rolled up their sleeves and got ready to go.

At Thor and Cathy’s, the group had the fun of getting to know another house, another kitchen, another beautiful table. As more wine was poured, the outdoor oven was cranked up and salmon came out.

Thor had thought long and hard about what to make for dinner. The main course is tricky: It has to be partially prepared in advance—just enough so that there isn’t a lot of work to be done when the party goers arrive, but not so much that the food is ruined. “We have to be able to leave our dinner for a couple of hours; then come back,” he told me. “That’s a challenge.”

Cassoulet, casseroles, baked dishes that need a little reheating—all of these are good choices for a main course. Thor opted to brine a salmon, cook all the side dishes in advance, get a fire going in the outdoor oven, and then finish cooking the fish when we arrived at their home.

After dinner—and a large “wow” factor—we moved on to our house. I had left a little note reminding myself to light candles, get the dessert wine out of the fridge and turn on the music and the coffee maker. We put out a tray of pretty glassware and liqueurs, and while Todd heated up the cake’s caramel topping, I made sure everyone had adequate adult refreshments. We all curled into the couches, groaning over lemon and chocolate cakes, and the evening gradually came to an end.

With each house, the tenor of the party changed a little. That was one of the great things about our progressive dinner. Every home brought a little something different to the party, adding to the experience.

As we climbed back into the van to take everyone home, Morri announced that we would have to do this again. We all agreed: The progressive dinner idea was something we’d like to repeat.