Esquire India’s Last Minute Party Playbook

It isn’t just me feeling a tad too festive, right? The season has shifted and so have the vibes. The air quality too, and not for the better. But I’m not letting that dampen my mood. This is my favourite time of year, after all, with its joy, celebration, togetherness and oodles of glitz and glam. There’s just something about this season that makes everything feel a little buzzy.

And speaking of buzz, that’s definitely one way to describe the reaction we’ve got for our new digital cover featuring Bollywood heartthrob Rohit Saraf. If you haven’t caught it yet, his conversation with Manasvi Pote is well worth a read. I’d also recommend Shreevatsa Nevatia’s wonderful essay on his experience with bipolar disorder, Prannay Pathak’s take on beard washing as an act of self-replenishment and Arshita Suri’s conversation with designer Rajesh Pratap Singh about his new home decor line.

This week’s newsletter exclusive: Jeena Billimoria’s cheat sheet makes a compelling case for throwing a party this season, even when you haven’t planned one.

Until next time, keep the good times rolling!

Saurav Bhanot

Digital Editor, Esquire India

How to host a dangerously good evening with little more than a stocked fridge, a delivery app and a healthy disregard for planning

By Jeena J Billimoria

The festive season is here, the social calendar is filling up, and everyone seems to be in the mood to party, you included. You’d like to have people over, except the thought of planning a dinner party three weeks in advance, with printed menus, gloved servers and canapés from the best private caterer money can buy is enough to put you off the idea entirely.

But a good party has very little to do with how much you spend, how elaborately you decorate or whether your olives have been decanted into the appropriate ceramic dish. It has everything to do with the people in the room, what’s in their glasses and whether anyone is checking their phone every four minutes. The trick is to make an evening feel effortless, even if you’ve spent the preceding hour frantically moving laundry into a cupboard.

Here’s your guide to throwing together a last-minute do without making it look like one.

The first rule is to invite people who get along without requiring you to act as a human diplomatic mission. For a spontaneous evening, aim for six to ten people. Enough to create a proper atmosphere, and few enough that you can hear what everyone is saying. Invite the funny ones, the generous ones, the ones who will offer to help without rearranging your kitchen, and, most importantly, at least one person who knows when to leave.

It’s an underrated social skill. I remember one party when the evening had ended for all practical purposes. The lights were on, the music was off, someone was stacking glasses, and the host had begun making conspicuously enthusiastic references to tomorrow morning. Still, that one guest remained planted on the sofa, beginning a fresh story just as everyone thought they had reached the conclusion of the previous one. Eventually, even the cat went to bed. The guest, unfortunately, didn’t take the hint.

You don’t need a bar worthy of a Mayfair members’ club. Gin, vodka, tequila, whisky, tonic, soda, cola and a couple of lemons will cover most eventualities. Keep beer and a bottle of wine or three on ice, alongside a decent non-alcoholic option for those abstaining, pacing themselves or simply unwilling to drink their calories.

Now let’s talk ice. Running out of ice halfway through an evening is the sort of administrative failure you don’t want following you for months to come.

Batch your drinks wherever possible. A pitcher of sangria, for instance, saves you from playing bartender all evening while everyone else has the time of their lives.

Unless you’ve specifically invited people for dinner, don’t attempt a full sit-down meal. Small plates are far more forgiving. Combine a few things that can be prepared with minimal effort and a couple of excellent takeaways. Crisps, salted nuts, hummus, pita, a decent cheese, crackers and something pickled make a perfectly respectable spread. Add guacamole, a quick dip or sliced fruit, and you’re doing better than half the restaurants that charge a service fee.

For something more substantial, order sushi, kebabs, dumplings or pizzas, depending on the crowd. Anything requiring a steak knife, a balancing act and complete concentration is poorly suited to a party where someone is inevitably telling a story with their arms.

One practical rule: order earlier than you think you need to. The app promises 38 minutes, which everyone interprets as a legally binding commitment, despite years of evidence to the contrary. At one particularly unfortunate gathering, the food was so delayed that the guests had worked their way through the crisps, nuts, olives and, eventually, a suspiciously large quantity of the garnish. By the time dinner arrived, everyone was three drinks in and behaving as though a delivery of kebabs constituted a Michelin-starred tasting menu.

Never let your entire hosting strategy depend on a stranger navigating weekend traffic with your dinner in a paper bag.

A clean bathroom, fresh hand towels, clear surfaces and somewhere to put a drink will achieve more than an emergency trip to a homeware store. Dim the overhead lights, light a candle and put away anything you don’t want discussed by strangers. Flowers are lovely, but not compulsory. So are matching glasses, although mismatched ones have a certain charm. Nobody has ever left a good party complaining that the tumblers weren’t from the same collection. A little imperfection is reassuring. It tells guests they can relax, too.

Music is the invisible host. Get it right, and nobody notices. Get it wrong, and someone will be asking to connect their phone before the first drink has been poured. Build a playlist in advance or choose a reliable existing one from Spotify (she’s your best friend on nights like these) and make sure it runs for at least three hours.

Establish a strict no-music takeover policy. One party I was at, a guest asked to play one song and somehow ended up running the sound system like he’d been booked for a residency at Berghain. Within ten minutes, the playlist was gone, the volume was up, and everyone was being subjected to a deep cut from an obscure German techno producer nobody had heard of. Attempts to talk were futile and attempts to skip the track were apparently an act of cultural vandalism.

There’s always one person who believes a 14-minute experimental track is exactly what the room needs. It rarely is.

Adults are perfectly capable of entertaining themselves, provided you invite the right ones. But if the conversation starts circling the same three subjects, a simple game can help. Cards Against Humanity, a music quiz or a round of ‘two truths and a lie’ will do the job. Keep it optional. Nothing kills the atmosphere faster than a host who insists everyone participate in an elaborate icebreaker, as though the guests have arrived for a much-dreaded corporate off-site.

The best parties have had very little going for them on paper, yet they’re the ones you remember. The secret is to care about the experience without looking as though you’ve cared too much. If the takeaway is late, pour another drink. If the playlist goes rogue, skip the track. If someone spills red wine on the sofa, take a breath before deciding whether the friendship can survive it.

Now buy more ice, hide the Yamazaki and tell everyone you’re busy next weekend.