Four Chicken Breasts for Twenty Guests

Commentary

I have the greatest admiration for any host or hostess who can throw together a party for 20 at the drop of a hat—a funny expression for what means a day or two in this case. You hear of family in town. They have friends and new spouses and their friends. They all want to get together. They need a spot that is not going to break the bank.

You have a home, a yard, a few tables but not much in the way of food. No time to go to the store and who needs the expense anyway? You have lots of greens, 20 pounds of potatoes, and exactly four chicken breasts. The proposed party catches on and your phone is lighting up about more and more guests.

In the end, there are 20 people coming. Do the math. One chicken breast must feed 5 people. Divide from there.

Does this seem impossible? It rather does. But I recently watched in absolute amazement as the patriarch of a large family actually did this. He did not stress. He did not complain. He got to work, put on a happy face, and figured it out.

His wife, meanwhile, pulled out the card tables and set them up in the barn, along with linen tablecloths, candles, flower arrangements, and cloth napkins. The chairs are the foldable kind but with tables looking this elegant, no one minds.

They texted the guests to bring desserts if they so desire. That’s one course to tick off the list. Now the only struggle is the meal.

The patriarch figured out the strategy. He would minimize the meat, maximize potato eating, and offer the salad a big bowl knowing full well that no one actually fills up on salad anyway.

The best method for expanding potatoes in this setting is to make a giant potato salad. He added carrots, pickles, a dozen or more boiled eggs, olive oil, and then discovered a shortage of mayonnaise. Fine. He would pitch the potato salad as “not too mayonnaisey like some.” Seems like a good point.

The potatoes were the first priority because the resulting dish needed to be served cold and needed time to chill. While the potatoes were boiling, he put the chicken into a sugar and salt marinade to plump it up as much as possible in order to stretch it out.

The time of the part finally came as guests poured in, carrying wine, pies, and ice cream. The music came on with the inevitable choice of genre. It was Yacht Rock, repurposed party music from the 1970s and 1980s, familiar, danceable, but not too challenging. Appeals to all ages.

The time for dinner finally arrives. Buffet-style is clearly the way. There are exactly three dishes: chicken, potato salad, and green salad. That’s it and no more. Clearly the patriarch needs to ration without telling people that he is doing so. In fact, he cannot give off the slightest hint that there is a food shortage. Can’t think that way. There is just enough. Everything is right and nothing is wrong.

The line forms. And here is the crucial trick that makes the entire event possible. People do not serve themselves. The patriarch stands over the food as the master, serving each person. He starts with the chicken breasts, which he guards under foil on a plate so that no one can see how very little there really is.

He takes out a single breast. With a large and elaborate fork and knife, he carefully and lovingly slices off pieces no bigger than a quarter coin, and lays them tenderly on the plate, while advertising them as the most moist chicken ever tasted, owing to his carefully hewn barbecue technique.

Next comes the potato salad, which is clearly the key to making everyone feel full. He markets it as a special family recipe. “Not too mayonnaisey,” he says repeatedly to every person on line, while piling it high on the plate. By then there is not much room remaining on the plate, so the green salad fits right there.

Onward to the next person.

So on this goes for the entire line of 20 people! Sure enough, he has magically made the food stretch to the whole gang while never giving off a hint that there might be something not quite right.

Success! This is what confidence and ingenuity can achieve. Above all else, the man in charge here had to believe that there was no real problem that a bit of creativity could not solve. And this man has loads of it, never once doubting himself despite a rather obvious problem that would have disabled and felled less experienced hosts.

I could only stand by and marvel both at the cooking skill and the marketing of the whole plan such that I’m certain that I was the only person present who suspected that something was awry. In reality, and so far as he was concerned, he was making due with what he had. The occasion called on his skill and he was ready to perform.

The desserts appeared—I had made my way to the kitchen and put the pies in the oven to warm when I noted that others were too busy doing other things—and cheers erupted all around. Out came the ice cream.

If anyone still had remaining hunger issues resulting from the surreptitiously parsimonious main course, they were completely forgotten.

Next came the toasts, the tributes, the compliments to the chef and hostess, plus smiles all around.

In short order, the tables were moved and the dancing began.

A perfect evening on a budget, thanks to hosting mastery, public confidence, and a hardcore refusal to allow either time constraints or anxiety about food shortages to derail the ultimate opportunity to welcome guests, bring the family together, build community, and form lasting memories.

Obviously, this patriarch is from the old world with a well-formed sensibility about how to do things that seems nearly lost in our time. Sometimes we can only look upon the old masters and hope to become them one day.

Views expressed in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.