Impromptu Gatherings

They say spontaneity is the spice of life—but I’d argue it’s also the secret ingredient of unforgettable hosting.

It was a Wednesday. Not a Friday, not a holiday, not even a long weekend. Just a plain old, midweek, slightly uninspiring Wednesday. But the weather was perfect, the flowers at the corner store were peony-level good, and my fridge had the makings of a pretty decent cacio e pepe. And that’s when the text went out: “Dinner at mine. 7:30. Come hungry.”

No RSVP necessary. Just bring wine, good stories, and that friend of yours who just got back from yet another travel adventure.

Here’s the thing about hosting: we often wait for the “right” moment. The clean house. The curated menu. The new linen napkins that haven’t arrived yet. But real hospitality—the kind that wraps people in warmth and makes them want to stay long after dessert—isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.

That night, candles were lit with half-burned matches. We sat on mismatched chairs and passed the parmesan like it was sacred. I poured red wine into my best glasses, and someone made a playlist that started with Ella Fitzgerald and ended in Beyoncé. Time stretched, laughter echoed, and for a few golden hours, the world outside didn’t matter.

And I couldn’t help but wonder... Have we made hosting too precious?

What if your greatest memories aren’t waiting for the big events—but hiding in your everyday, right-there-in-your-kitchen kind of moments?

So here’s your invitation: don’t wait. Text the friends. Pour the wine. Light the candles even if you’re just serving flatbreads.

Because at the end of the day, people won’t remember if the napkins matched. They’ll remember how you made them feel.

And that, my darling host, is the real art.

Your fellow spontaneous host, Jessica Avilés