Birthdays come around once a year and how – or if – you choose to celebrate is totally up to you. For my brother, when the use by date on the milk reads June 6th, he knows it’s any day now.
As a kid, my mid-January birthday meant I often missed out on “the big party” because school friends were away on their summer holidays. I’m not complaining but there were years when I felt I was chasing “the big party” still.
Then while at a painting class, I met an older woman who was turning 70. When I asked her what she planned to do for her birthday, she explained that she enjoyed a series of small get togethers with friends over several weeks. Not only was she not up for a big party, she felt this way she’d get to spend better quality time with each of them. Smart woman, I thought.
Nowadays, I enjoy a month long festival I call #Mandypalooza. I like to acknowledge one more year on this earth and enjoy sharing food & wine with family & friends but I do not have the same stamina I once had. Not only is it a great way to extend the celebrations for the whole month of January, it means I can catch up with friends in smaller groups in a range of different ways: coffee mornings, restaurant dinners, lunches with a girlfriend or two but also activity-centred celebrations.
In the past, I’ve hired a bbq boat at Melbourne Docklands to putter around in. One year, we settled in at a country pub beer garden; my kids were small and they could roam comfortably without getting lost or under people’s feet. I’ve done the picnic & Shakespeare thing at Melbourne’s Botanic Gardens and I’ve cooked multi-course meals for my friends. Yes, I cook for my birthday as I actually enjoy it.
I do like a theme, be it a long Italian-style Sunday lunch outside under the trees complete with red-checked tablecloth, or maybe a multi-tiered steamer continuously serving dumplings in small rice bowls. I’ve even hosted a DIY ramen party with all the fixings.
For my craft beer nerd partner, I have designed a 6 course meal with 2 beer matchings per course (one left-of-field, the other more mainstream). I’ve thrown a winter party with a fire pit going, slow-cookers of mulled cider, Mac & cheese, chilli, and with toasted marshmallows to finish of course. The important thing is to set clear expectations. My friends knew it was going to be outside around a fire pit so they’d need to dress appropriately.
The invitation needs to state where it is, what is going to happen, start and finish time (especially for a kid’s party). I then generally will call and check they got the invite, mention who is coming (it’s nice to know if it’s an intimate, sit-down dinner party or a drop in when you can, free-for-all with 50 people invited) and answer any other questions.
Lastly, while we all love the idea that our friends want nothing more than the honour of spending time with us, I think it’s important to recognise that some people will cancel/not turn up – and sometimes it’s the same people time and again. Don’t take it personally and please don’t think any less of them. Put yourself in their shoes and find some generous understanding that maybe it was all a little too much today. You never know what’s going on for people.
Eating solo means eating however I like and that includes licking the plate. I’ve never been one for breakfast in the morning, yet I’ll happily tuck into bacon and eggs at 3 p.m. And let’s be real—who hasn’t eaten cereal for dinner?
Even after years in the food industry, I sometimes lose my mojo. What I have learned is to ditch the judgement—internal or external—and embrace food as something fluid, adaptable, and, above all, satisfying.
After years in hospitality and catering, these are my best tips for helping everything run smooth, whatever the occasion. And most importantly, be present and enjoy yourself. It’s supposed to be fun after all.