'Tis the season of the holiday party crash, with the extra-naughty aiming to storm the big media fetes. The Gourmet Magazine party is famously crash-proof (specifically the editorial fiesta, publishing is another story) because editor Ruth Reichl hosts it at her home. After some quick recon, the only way in to chez Reichl may be to get hired by the caterer Kitchen Eats. Or if you want to add some gourmet flair to your party – hire them. It's worth noting that one of the chefs, Ian Knauer, daylights as a food editor at said publication. Another tasty bit is that while Mr. Knauer is an avid hunter (venison) and gatherer (mushrooms), his wife is a vegetarian. Ironic yes, but it makes him particularly adroit at party snacks for all food groups.
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JP Morgan throws crashable parties, a discovery I made inadvertently on Monday night. I arrived at STK for the Thrillist ("Absurdly Early") holiday party. The clipboard girl said the party's on the second floor, but given the elevator wasn't working, to take the stairs at the back of the restaurant. So I traversed the dining room (which was pretty full for a starless Monday night) and ascended. The party rooms are glass-walled , so it was easy to see that there was only one party in effect, consisting of about two dozen conservative and decidedly un-thrilling types. I took a seat, ordered drinks and sampled the snacks. I didn't see any thrilling dudes I recognized. Before everyone was called to the table for dinner, I knew there was something wrong. I asked a suited gentleman if this was indeed the right party. No. "I'm very sorry then, because I've just crashed your party." He was very nice. "Yes – we noticed, but that's okay." Turns out STK uses the European floor-numbering style, the ground floor being zero. My party, with the rockin' band, vino and internet hipsters (is that an oxymoron?), was one flight up. So the holiday moral of the story is… if you're polite and smile, crashing is okay. And multiple-party venues like STK are crash nirvana.
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