Walk into any home store between now and Christmas, and you can’t miss them. Dining tables bedecked with so many layers of linen, china, silver, crystal and ornamentation that it would take an archaeologist six weeks to unearth the table beneath.
Does anyone else wonder where you put the food? Ah, the food. That, my friends, is secondary. What’s primary is that these stores sell you more linen, china, silver, crystal and ornamentation than you’ll ever need so they can pay for their own merry Christmas.
To do so they need to first set up an unrealistic expectation of how your holiday table should look. Make no mistake. These tables have one purpose: Make you feel inferior so you buy more stuff to clog your cupboards and line their coffers.
Enough already.
That doesn’t mean your holiday table should look like the school cafeteria’s. Just that chances are you have what you need to make it perfect. Also, just because some chi-chi magazine says sprinkling fresh cranberries on your table runner will add a seasonal touch, doesn’t make it smart. I tried that. My kids took up a game of cranberry marble shooting, which landed the berries on the carpet, where they left a stain and made the dogs sick.
I’m not sure who’s to blame, the magazine for suggesting such a dimwitted idea or me for falling for it. Though I have my own thoughts on holiday tables, I researched what current opinion leaders say about dressing the table this season. Big surprise: They don’t agree.
To avoid starting a food fight, I won’t mention names, but one expert from a culinary arts school says tablecloths and plates should always be white with no pattern, so they don’t compete with the food. The food should be the color. Glasses should always be clear so one can appreciate the wine’s hue.
I say, leave the pure white table settings to the five-star restaurants with laundry service. Putting austere white plates on white cloths puts a lot of pressure on parents of messy kids – messy kids being, of course, redundant – and on the cook. If I can distract folks from the fact that I’ve oversteamed the asparagus, I’ve succeeded.
On the other extreme, a prominent designer said, “Both formal and informal tables welcome a multicolored palette in glassware and tabletop accessories.” Another encouraged people to combine casual and formal dishes with colored crystal or glassware “for a sense of style and sophistication.”
I’ve dined at tables so overdone with “style and sophistication” that I was afraid to pick up my glass for fear there wouldn’t be a spot to set it back down.
“Hey, wait! That was my spot.”
“Sorry. You moved your glass.”
Passing platters involved negotiating an obstacle course.
“Would you mind holding these candlesticks while I pass the stuffing?”
“Not if you’ll cover for me while I dodge through the stemware for that gravy boat.”
So who’s right? The purists or those with more creative bravura? Both. To me, the prettiest tables have color, but are restrained enough to let the table serve its purpose: to be the backdrop for the meal and the conversation. But don’t get in a rut. The most memorable tables have an element of surprise.
Several years ago I interviewed Barbara Barry, a top Los Angeles-based designer. She had just finished designing the dinner party for the opening of the Getty Center Museum. It’s an illustrious place, with grand halls of marble, as you would expect. But Barry didn’t do what you would expect. Instead of dressing tables in white linens with white china and white roses, she used burlap tablecloths, wooden plates and centerpieces of eucalyptus and succulents. It took guts.
“The place impresses you enough,” she said. “The dinner settings had to be humble.” Her story taught me this: The unexpected is fun. Important occasions don’t have to be fancy. And don’t take any of this too seriously.
Here are a few more thoughts to put on the table:
Don’t make centerpieces too big. Too tall, and guests need to forge a jungle to talk across the table. Too wide and they take up so much real estate, you can’t put platters down. If you’ve ever removed a centerpiece to make room for food you know.
Keep festive touches simple. Use a remnant of fabric that has a holiday motif and bunch it under a candelabra, hurricane lamp or a bowl of flowers. A crystal bowl of shiny ball ornaments also makes an easy, low-maintenance centerpiece.
Use something old and something new. Heirlooms enhance tradition. I like using my great-aunt’s crystal bowl with fresh flowers.
Light candles. Whether long tapers or small votives, they help make Aunt May’s jello salad look appetizing, and they soften facial wrinkles. But make then unscented. You want to cast a spell, not a smell.
When you get that urge to create a table like a store display, remember this isn’t a competition. The store’s job is to sell you tablewares. Your job is to create a backdrop for a warm, memorable holiday.
Don’t let anyone tell you cranberries make a good table accent. Cheers.
Marni Jameson is a nationally syndicated columnist who lives in the Denver area. You may reach her at marnij@comcast.net.
