Emily is an entertaining newbie. Anna is a party pro. In The Party Project, they work together to create dinner party perfection.
After throwing one this weekend, I've determined that a Fall Soup Party is the very best kind of party.
What is a "Fall Soup Party"? It is, quite simply, a party hosted during the autumnal months for which you make soup and have your friends over. At yet, it's also more than soup, more than fall, more than friends, more than the sum of its parts. A Fall Soup Party is a vibe, an attitude, a lifestyle.
To capture this elusive feeling, I went—as I always do—to my coworker Anna, a party-hosting expert. Since she has already taught me—an amateur entertainer who lacked confidence—to host an after-work, no-cook dinner party, a co*cktail party, and, finally, a three-course plated dinner, we worried that I had nothing more to learn about entertaining. Not so! Rest assured that there's still a lot of room for improvement. We decided a casual, seasonal get-together made sense as a next step, and Anna gave me tips on how to host this kind of party. Here's her advice, and what I learned along the way.
Tip 1: Forgo the Formality of a Typical Dinner Party
The whole point of a Fall Soup Party is that it isn't a dinner party. "It's a great way to have an open house–style party that feels festive, casual, and easy to pull off. This is not a sit-down dinner, it's a come-and-go-as-you-please-there-will-be-plenty-to-eat kind of event," Anna told me. "And because this isn't a sit-down party, you can invite more people. Invite 20! Or 25! However many people you think you can fit in your apartment."
I invited 20 people, and 13 showed up. I said in the invite that the party was from 3–6PM, and that people could show up whenever they wanted during that time. So guests arrived and left in waves, grabbing a bowl of soup or three when they were hungry, and then went on with their Sunday evenings. I invited coworkers and my closest friends. It all felt very loose: my friend Ally's parents were unexpectedly in town, so I told her to bring them along. (They brought a case of beer, killed it, and were probably the most fun people at the party.)
The best part was the odd assemblage of people brought together by the magical properties of soup. Normally, mixing groups gives me anxiety, but the casual nature of the party made it all feel organic and easy. Everyone was so nice and talkative and they all mixed and mingled and got along perfectly. And I wasn't holding them hostage—they could leave whenever, which relieved the pressure. It was the perfect casual vibe.
(Special shout-out to Epi Test Kitchen assistant Kat, who stayed late at the party, kept eating soup and drinking wine with me well into the evening, and peeled apples in a single strand so we could throw apple peels over our shoulders and determine the first initial of our soul mate. A lowercase "e" was mine, if you're wondering!)
Tip 2: Make Soup Ahead of Time
Anna advised that I make three soups: one puréed vegetable soup; one chunky, minestrone-like soup; and one stew. You can freewheel the vegetable soup and the stew, using Anna's guides and ratios. But I opted to use recipes. She also suggested I make one soup a day over three days to divide up the work. So I made this (admittedly complicated, but so, so delicious) adobo on Friday night. I made this creamy cauliflower soup on Saturday. And I made a double batch of this bean, escarole, and pasta number on Sunday, the day of the party.
