How to Make Guests Feel at Home

What kind of a host are you?

What to Use When A Towel Can’t Be Found

Years ago, when my husband Raven and I first visited certain young friends overnight, there was no toilet paper in the bathroom.

There was no soap. There were no towels. I rinsed my hands and dried them on the seat of my pants, then took it upon myself to find towels. I checked a small linen closet—none. I checked a laundry room—still none.

How we would sleep was unclear. We were pointed to a narrow cot in an extra room. We could squash together on the cot or we could make a pallet on the floor. “We’ll be back late, so see you tomorrow,” they said soon after we arrived. We spent the next hour figuring out makeshift sheets and pillows. That evening we toweled off with our dirty t-shirts. There had been no shampoo or conditioner either.

I inherited a sense of affront from my dad. I puzzled longer than was healthy over this situation, although these were good friends who had invited us and who seemed genuinely excited about our visit. They were also newlyweds. Obviously their minds were not on accommodations.

When we returned home a few days later, I told a friend what happened. She’d had a similar experience. “Don’t stop visiting,” she said. “They need you. They just don’t know how to prepare for guests.”

Her advice was “Take everything you need with you.”

Nina Sets the Bar High

Recently Raven and I stayed overnight with friends who live in a comfortable, beautiful home. When our friend showed us to our room I noticed right away two bouquets of fresh flowers, one on a bedside table and another on a small pedestal beside a love seat. The bed was freshly made, with an antique tatted coverlet, like heavy lace.

I fingered the coverlet.

“Isn’t this an heirloom?” I asked Nina, a little concerned about using it.

“Yes,” she said, matter-of-factly, as if us sleeping under a family heirloom was the best thing she could think of.

Nina had folded a stack of fluffy towels and hand cloths on a chair. (I say “fluffy” because if you visit me, you’re going to get scratchy towels—ours dry out on a line.) She had arranged on one bedside table books she thought I might like—Writing as a Sacred Path and a book of photographs of archetypal objects. She had placed there a clipping from The New York Times Magazine that listed Ocmulgee Mounds¹ as one of 52 places to go (Madrid was the destination on the reverse side of the page.) My friend knows that Raven is passionate about Caravaggio, and she had placed there a book about the painter. In the bath were more flowers.

This was the friend who’d left a bottle of wine—it was called “Poet’s Leap,” or something like that—perfect for a writer—waiting beside a corkscrew and two glasses.

Nina had thought hard about our visit. I imagined her walking the long aisle of wines at the grocery, settling on one she imagined we’d like. The thinking was high-end empathy, her putting herself in our shoes, thinking, “What would make them happy? Comfortable? Feel welcomed? Tickled?”

The next morning, coffee was going at 7.

When it came time to leave, Nina packed a gift bag of snacks for our drive home, including a container of cheese salad, a dish I’d never tasted. Chips. A couple of tangerines. Mexican wedding cookies.

And Then She Raised the Bar Higher

I forgot my laptop when we left, and I was home, a few hours away, when I realized. The next afternoon I had to return for the computer, and because of the drive I needed to spend a second night, this time alone, and that’s when I got a chance to up-level my hospitality game.

The room had been refreshed with one simple gesture: the flowers at the bedside had been switched with those by the sofa.

But Nina had done more. On my pillow was a small red felt heart made like a pincushion. It rested beside a tiny kraft envelope with my name on it. Inside was a little note of encouragement, which you can read at the very bottom of this newsletter.

Set Out Photos of the Guest

We have an old friend in Tallahassee who is also a pro at hospitality. Before a guest’s arrival she sticks photos of the guest on her fridge or she brings framed photos to a prominent place. As if the photo is always there.

When I visit her, my latest book or magazine article will be laid out on her coffee table. As if she has just been reading my work.

Why This Matters

Hospitality is honoring another human being with small acts of welcome. These are sacred acts.

For Men Too

Just because hospitality falls mostly to women doesn’t let men off the hook. Before my visit last month with him in Northampton, Mass, my son Silas cleaned the common areas of his apartment, vacuumed out his vehicle, made up a futon for me “nice and cosy,” as he put it, and planned some outings.

When I got home from that trip, Raven had neatened the house, cut and arranged fresh flowers, and left the last three pieces of a 1000-piece puzzle for me to stick into place.

These acts, performed with love, profess love, show love, and keep love in the house.²

It’s Not about Spending Money

Hospitality has little to do with financial privilege. Once, when we lived in Colombia, South America, Silas and I were invited into the shockingly modest home of our neighbor, a single mother with two small daughters. The family had no electricity and no running water. The day was Easter, and my neighbor caught her only rooster and prepared a sumptuous meal from it.

That kind of sacred hospitality is not something to take lightly.

I’ve prepared a list for you. Many of these ideas take no money at all. Will you add to it? I’d love to read your thoughts in the Comments section. What do you do to make a guest feel welcome?

Ten Small Things that Say a Lot to Your Guests

1. flowers—these can be wildflowers—or a bit of greenery

2. small chocolates or candies

3. a bottle of wine

4. a small gift that will not be a burden

5. interesting books and articles left out

6. photos of the guest strategically placed

7. work of the guest showcased (their art, if you own pieces of it, laid out)

8. a handwritten note of welcome

9. a few fruits

10. an entire gift basket

11. the best view at the table

12. the best chair in the living room.

    At this link are a few more ideas that I didn’t think of.

Take My Hospitality Quiz

Now, On the Part of the Guest

I am collecting thoughts for a post on guest behavior. For example, probably I shouldn’t have snooped through the linen closet of our friends.

I’d love to hear your ideas for how a guest should behave.

Perla Meyer’s Cheese Salad Italienne

I begged Nina to share with us her cheese salad recipe. She uses Swiss.

2 cups mozzarella or Swiss cheese cut into 2-inch matchsticks

1 small white onion, thinly sliced

1/2 cup thinly sliced green olives

1 green Italian pepper, seeded and thinly sliced

1 tablespoon well-drained capers

1 cup finely cubed celery

2-3 anchovies, finely mashed

1 clove garlic, mashed

1.5 tablespoons white wine vinegar

1/2 cup olive oil

salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley

Garnish: rounds of salami

1. In a mixing bowl combine the cheese, onion, olives, green pepper, capers, and celery. Set said. In a small jar combine the anchovies, garlic, vinegar, and olive oil.

2. Close the jar tightly and shake to blend the dressing, then pour it over the cheese mixture and toss lightly. Season the salad with salt and a generous grinding of black pepper and chill for 2-3 hours.

3. Thirty minutes before service, bring to room temperature, correct the seasonings, and place in a rectangular serving dish. Sprinkle with the parsley and arrange the salami slices in an overlapping line down the center of the salad. Serve as a luncheon salad or as part of an hors d’oeuvres table.

Since We’re On Cheese Salads

Last week I participated in a story-gathering project for One Hundred Miles, an environmental organization that works to protect the 100 miles of amazing Georgia coast. The best part of the project was getting invited into people’s homes. One was the Dodd family near Valona, Georgia. Judy had made her specialty, which is pimento cheese. Folks from other regions of the U.S. and world often don’t understand or care for pimento cheese. I heard one person say, “Pimento cheese is just another way for the south to use mayonnaise.”

Nope. Not true.

Pimento cheese was the reason I had to write a poem of apology recently to a friend. She wasn’t home when I stopped at her house, but I have a key, so I went in and had lunch. (True. And what kind of a guest does that?) I was still in her kitchen when I sent her this poem, a la William Carlos Williams.

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
The pimento cheese
That was in
The icebox

And which
You were probably
Saving
For your next snack

Forgive me
It was delicious
So reminiscent
And so filling

Pimento Cheese

Recipe from Judy Dodd & the Darien Telephone Company Cookbook

1 small onion, coarsely chopped

3 (10-ounce) blocks sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded

1 (7-ounce) jar pimentos, drained and mashed

2 cups (about) mayonnaise

Puree the onion with a small amount of water in a blender. Drain and squeeze out the water. Combine the onion, cheese, pimentos, and 1 cup of the mayo. Stir to mix well. Stir in remaining mayo to reach desired consistency. Use as a dip or a sandwich filling.

Note: This recipe can easily be halved.

Yield: 32 servings (unless I’m your guest).

A friend came to dinner recently and brought this gorgeous handmade beeswax candle. The yellow roses came from another dinner guest. The bread is Raven’s earth-oven sourdough, and the bouquet came from our yard.

So, slow down. Don’t worry. Breathe. Take care of yourself. All will be well.

I believe that.

1. Ocmulgee Mounds, located in Macon, Georgia two hours from my home, is in the process of becoming Georgia’s first national park. It is the homeland of the Muscogee (Creek) people.

2. I saw that Salvation South has a new T-shirt, the words Love Always Wins over an American flag. I thought that mentioning it was apropos.