Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
after four I'm under my host.
Dorothy Parker's writing has never failed to crack me up ever since I first discovered her over 10 years ago during a New Yorker reading binge. Lethally witty, delightfully caustic, and at turns playful and dark, she embodies the spirit of New York's Algonquin group during the Jazz Age, and she's one of the first people I'd invite to any fantasy dinner party.
Last night, a friend was telling me about how he attended one of the dinners celebrating the 250th birthday anniversary of Scottish poet Robert Burns (and all the haggis), and I got to thinking...why not Dot?
Obviously, it would have to be a pre-theatre meal. Here's what I'd serve:
Vesper Cocktails - Because Parker loved gin (dearly), and went to Catholic school
Honey-Roasted Pear Salad with Thyme Verjus Dressing - Because verjus vinegar of unripend grapes is about as tart as her theatre reviews
Lobster Pot Pie - Because it's a rich, sinfully delicious 1920s American classic from the East Coast too
Bittersweet Chocolate Fallen Souffle Cakes - Because she had dark edge with a bite, and was at her absolute best when appreciating any form of wreckage
Champagne - To match her sparkling wit, of course