Dan's Papers - July 4, 2008 - Choose Candlelight for Elegant Entertainment

In examining the most abstruse yet amusing dining room lore for this article, we were inspired by "Directions to Dinner-Givers," a tongue-in-cheek piece from the past. Published in 1848 in The Albion, A Journal of News, and Politics and Literature, this witty guide reflects our viewpoint that lighting, even more than china or crystal or flatware or flowers, makes for a festive dining room. A wise host or hostess from any era will closely heed the clever directives of the anonymous author's Rule Nine, "Light your table modestly and umbrageously. Nothing injures the eyes like the glare of a great many lamps and chandeliers. You ... may have a passage from Shakespeare or Shelley, on the charms of twilight, ready to quote. I need scarcely add how much the aspect of a great many of your dishes will probably be improved by shade; particularly the most mysterious, those chef d'oeuvres of your cook, which combine the advantages of at once piquing curiosity and repressing appetite."

Indeed, only the grossly common and the uncommonly fastidious that need to actually discern what they are eating would take umbrage at a shadowy dining room. After all, candlelight is sublimely flattering to anyone's complexion. Its seductive flicker adds a sparkle to the eye otherwise dulled by the tiresomely self-referential conversation of one's tablemates. A soft glow of tea lights and tapers erases the appearance of wrinkles far more expeditiously and economically than costly Creme de Mer or some other trendy salve.

Judiciously placed candles mask a variety of ills ranging from stained tablecloths to fallen soufflés. If you cast the mesmerizing spell of candlelight, your guests may not be able to decipher your child's crayon scrawls on the walls or make out the marks stamped on the back of your porcelain. Thus, in the dim radiance you might be able to convince your credulous company that thrift-shop tableware is a family heirloom, Melamine is Meissen, stainless steel is estate silver, and cut glass is Christofle crystal. A piquant atmosphere, a hazy glow, can also work wonders if you are serving a savory Spam loaf in lieu of honey-baked ham. Such shady frugality is increasingly the fashion in today's tough economic times, and if your dining table isn't brightly lit, food snobs will be foiled.

As for Shakespeare and Shelley, we are rather fond of quoting Hamlet's sardonic dismissal of the leftovers served at his parents' wedding banquet, "Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats[Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables." Nonetheless, to follow the above Ninth Rule to the letter, the inquisitive Dan's Papers readership must research appropriate verses to shed a murky literary light on the subject of the evening's entertainment.

In contrast, citing the poet Sylvia Plath as a rationale for candlelit dining would be a rather bold, avant-garde gesture. Her 1962 poem, By Candlelight, seems to describe her violently passionate marriage to Ted Hughes, "The mirror floats us at one candle power./ This is the fluid in which we meet each other, /This haloey radiance that seems to breathe/ And lets our shadows wither/ Only to blow/ Them huge again, violent giants on the wall./ One match scratch makes you real./ At first the candle will not bloom at all - - / It snuffs its bud/ To almost nothing, to a dull blue dud." Whatever you are serving, merely reciting such passages imparts the rich savor of haute cuisine to the most humble chow. Now, your attempt to channel the spirit of Julia Child with dollar-store ingredients may be a culinary catastrophe. But when you declaim verses between courses, your guests will truly have food for thought. An artistic atmosphere trumps appetites every time, and glamorously gloomy lighting is poetic punctuation for your scintillating souper intime!

Surely, there will be nothing dull or blue about a dinner party where guests are squinting across the table, seeing each other as if for the first time. A dullard who must be invited for the sake of etiquette will transform from a dud into the most eligible, swankiest stud on the East End if seen in the proper light (dim). When dining tête-a-tête with your beau in such a suggestive ambience, you won't even taste the food. Don't bother attempting to seduce his stomach by tarting up takeout fare to simulate homemade. Why, in the romance of candlelight, you may soon find yourself, like Plath and Hughes, right up on the table casting frolicking shadows on the wall!

Readers may hence be entranced by the charming concept of a chandelier outfitted with real candles but might fear wax dripping directly onto a guest's hairdo, into a décolletage, or all over the lobster en croute (Stouffer's Chicken Pot Pie, but who can see it?). What's a little candle-wax dropped in your chilled cucumber soup or drizzled on your mesclun salad? Nowadays, tomatoes are far more lethal! Be brave, think of the dribbles of beeswax as a garnish and forage onward. In all seriousness, there are ways to circumvent this faux-pas and not with LED candles or tacky plastic candle sleeves that simulate a dripping taper. Simply freeze the wax tapers for 24 hours before lighting, soak them in salt water to eliminate the drips, or purchase silver, plastic or crystal bobeches to catch the melting wax.

You needn't worry about the depredations of hot wax if you have small recessed overhead electric lights on dimmers, enhanced by candlelit sconces or torchieres placed around the perimeter of the dining room away from the table. If the flames are reflected in mirrors or shiny surfaces, this creates a wondrously magical mood. But in mixing lighting and candles, beware of overpowering candlelight with the hard glare of electric bulbs.

Candle chandeliers are available in styles from rustic to regal, from "Shabby Chic" distressed white-painted iron to elaborate Venetian glass confections, all at a variety of price points. While Holly Hunt's iconic contemporary chandeliers amassed with faux candles are a staple in upscale decorating magazines and online design blogs, real candles have so much more character than their electrified substitutes!

However, the prudent home decorator needn't make any new acquisitions. While you are probably familiar with the concept of electrifying antique gas lighting fixtures, why not consider retrofitting your existing electric chandelier? We're not advocating reverting to gas, as columnists from the gaslight era bemoan its sickly yellowish shine on skin tone. Rather, convert your electric light fixture to hold candles. You can purchase candleholders that screw into the light sockets on a chandelier in lieu of lightbulbs.

Eschewing the literary lions for a lowly viewpoint, we end with another ditty entitled Dim View. "Candlelight dining/Has qualities fine:/The tiny flames flicker/ O'er entrees and wine. The only real problem/ In this elegant seating/ Is that in the dark I/ Can't find what I'm eating." Elegant candlelight dining might usher in a return to nouvelle cuisine, one of the least overindulgent excesses of the 1980s. Elaborately arranged portions of julienne vegetables and colorful sauces were so small you couldn't see them anyway, so the parsimonious presentation of food is absolutely ideal for present day rising costs and rationing. But if you can't quite make out the tiny, faintly-lit food, perhaps you'll be blinded by the first flush of love as you perceive the radiance of your dining companion across the towering tapers. An old adage runs, "Choose neither women nor linen by candlelight," but we can't afford to be so particular.