Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Since arriving in the U.S (almost two weeks now!) we have been amazed at the hospitality we have been shown. We have already been to three dinner parties, and this what I have learnt.

1. Dinner parties in the States seem to be how they were in England 20 years ago. The best tablecloth will be put on a large dining room table in a formal dining room. The best crockery (flatware), cutlery (silverware) and glasses (glasses) will be wiped clean and laid out with precision. Everyone is told where to sit, with the hosts at either end of the table.
In England the dining table is somewhere to litter with your husband's papers and assorted nick knacks and in the unlikely event you do entertain, paper and plastic disposables are the order of the day.

2. The dinner party is not there to celebrate Passover, Easter or anything else, come to that. It exists for the sole purpose to show off the hostess's culinary skills. Now let me make it clear, I am not jealous. I have been known to host the odd dinner myself, in fact my rock hard avocados and frozen pasta salad are legendary. But in America, it is quite different.

3. Once guests are allowed to sit, the meal seems to begin with some kind of religious ceremony. At Passover, that was the complex sedar meal. We normally only celebrate this with fellow Jews, but this year was quite exciting, with a mix of nationalities and religions. The Easter Sunday lunch began with grace. The Shabbat dinner with the lighting and blessing of candles. Personally I always offer up a prayer or two before serving pretty much anything.

4. In England we tend to have a starter, soup, main course and dessert, sensibly, I think, served in strict order after each course is completed. In America, there is delirious chaos. Huge plates of home-made food are dumped on the table in random order. It's every man for himself. Buckets of jewelled fruit salad, barrowloads of spicy chicken, mountains of mashed potatoes, fresh asparagus and eggplant bake are handed out like fire fighters passing buckets of water up the line.
"Hey, I forgot the hors doevres honey".
"No matter, send them over here. I've just started dessert but bring it on."
The most applauded dish will be the meat. For Jews, it's brisket, stewed in the oven in rich tomatoey gravy. For Christians it's a pink juicy ham. Not sure yet what the Buddists have, but I'm open to invitations.
The tables buckle in the middle like the Golden Gate Bridge in a high wind.
"Oh just one more spoon, it's a shame to let it go to waste" as your plate cowers under the weight of incoming potatoes.
"Leave room for dessert" as you munch down another cookie. I thought that was dessert.
"And we'll crack open a bottle of that new port we just bought too. A fine undercurrent of chocolate, so I'm told."
Living in a one bedroomed apartment with a three utensils and a bowl, it will, unfortunately, be sometime before I am able to return all these wonderful invitations. Fortunately that gives me plenty of time to enrol in cookery classes!