We went out for dinner the other night to a place with an ice bar. (Really the only places we go out for food these days are outside places. Even in Minnesota. Even in January. COVID safety: It’s a vibe.)
There’s no such thing as bad weather, of course, just bad gear, and so we were dressed appropriately: Foundation layer, two layers of velvet, a layer of down, hat, mittens, good socks, good boots, check, check, check.
The bar was gorgeous — silver plate, dazzling diamond-cut ice, frozen flower arrangements and lights. The drinks were inventive; they were pouring aperitifs out of a Nebuchadnezzar mounted on levers, so it gracefully bobbed up and down as it filled your glass. The pizza was delicious, with a pita-like, chewy, pillowy crust, creamy sauce, greens, thin-sliced bresaola. The bartender was kind and warm-hearted. But the night was still kind of a bummer; we had our pizza and a beverage and left, we didn’t linger.
What was missing?
Somehow the spirit of hospitality was (just a little bit!) missing. Not in the service staff, and obviously not in the kitchen or behind the bar, but in the thinking and management of the place. Someone had thought about how to make it look beautiful and warm on social media, and how to organize the menu to be inventive and interesting, but they could have used a little more creativity about how to make it feel warm and convivial despite the weather for the patrons (or the staff) who were actually there.
If you’re creating an outdoor event in Minnesota in January, hospitality means curating warmth, both literally and imaginatively. You can start with thinking about your servers and bartenders, who are working there for hours, day after day, at a job that is somehow both standing (so hard on your feet and legs) and also sedentary (so you can’t rely on movement to keep you warm). How will the staff stay warm? I went to an outdoor dinner (at the Four Seasons) earlier this winter where the servers’ uniform included a gorgeous, expensive, warm-as-fuck-looking parka, knee-length, fur-trimmed and all. Someone at the Four Seasons had realized that for the servers to be hospitable to patrons when working outdoors in winter, they needed to be properly warm, and they were kitted out accordingly. The bartender at this weekend’s place was in a thin jacket, a pair of handwarmers in his pocket. You can’t tend bar in gloves or mittens, so you have to get creative to keep the people behind the bar from having their fingers freeze and break right off. Disposable handwarmers are way better than nothing, but could we get even more creative?
What about having a warming cabinet for the glassware behind that ice bar? The bartender would get warm every time he took out a cup, and the patron would have their hot drink served in a hot cup, and which would not then be instantly cold by the time they brought it back to their table. Or how about cooking and serving the pizza on a stone, instead of a steel pan? Something that will radiate warmth into the food and the air for awhile? If it’s being served outside, and the toppings are intentionally cold, then the crust is going to need some protection from the elements for the whole pie to have the intended effect. If you’re serving hot food outdoors in winter, the hospitality magic comes through in making sure that food can stay hot.
Maybe we could upgrade the cafe tables, too. If you’re going to serve food, then the best tables would be fire tables, with a ring around them for setting down food and drinks. Regular summer cafe tables are freezing and miserable at a winter ice bar, because no matter how many little firestoves you’ve sprinkled everywhere, the people at the table have to gather around the table. You can afford the upgraded fire tables by skipping the purchase of those huge propane heaters; they do nothing but waste propane in a Minnesota winter. Maybe throw up double the number of fairy lights, too, or even triple: A fairy light scrim hides the parking lot, makes the whole situation less grim.
You might ask, why am I telling you all this? Shouldn’t I be leaving a Yelp review? Or telling the restaurant? (I didn’t do either, and I’m not naming them here, because honestly the experience was fine and the details are difficult. I appreciate their creativity — without this place, there would be one less place to go! But then why make a crabby post at all?)
Because right now, finding safe ways to gather is important. COVID deaths are increasing again, and a recent review of Long COVID underlines that this disease has chronic, disabling effects. And yet, winter is long, and cold, and we need ways to be together that are warm. We need to show each other hospitality. So what can be learned from our less-than-perfect dinner out about how to host an outdoor gathering that will be warm with human kindness even in the depths of winter? Here are my takeaways:
Keep the drinks hot. You don’t need to invest in a bar warming drawer. We’ve found that this thermos will keep coffee hot for four days. If you’re serving hot chocolate or cider, bring whipped cream in a spray can. Make sure you have as many non-alcoholic choices as alcoholic ones (I’ve discovered that the zero-proof section of a bar menu is a key clue to the overall hospitality of the establishment. Places that care about you have good mocktails. The place we had dinner? Had one zero-proof option, and it was just the spiked hot cocoa without the spike.)
Keep the food hot. If you’re going to serve food, serve something that people can gather around and it will stay warm. Maybe have hot pot. Melt raclette over the fire. Put a big cauldron of soup over your fire like a witch. Put the plates and bowls in a hot cooler. Preheat everything that will touch hot food, and use pre-heated stone bowls and plates if you really want to keep things hot-hot.
Fire and light. You need a fire to gather around if you’re going to be outside in the dark in the cold. You know how they say you can’t have too much ice for a party? In this case, the same is true for firewood. People will gather around a fire for as long as there is fire. Also, fairy lights? The more the better. Fairies never get cold. (If you make ice luminaries, the fairy lights or little votive candles can cast even more light.)
Make sure everybody can get at least one cold part of themselves warm. Have extra hats and extra mittens. A $1 pair of thin cotton gloves is a surprising morale improvement over no gloves at all. Have handwarmers, and also those iron-oxide stick-on patches for neck pain — if you stick one of those on your neck, you will be warm all night even in jeans, I swear. Have fuzzy blankets.
Have something to do. You stay warmer if you’re moving, and psychologically warmer if you’re distracted. Outdoor winter gatherings need a focus. Can you take a hike and follow it up with mulled wine by the fire? Cross-country ski followed by raclette? A sleigh ride and fireside picnic? If your guests are moving, they’ll be warm.
Those are my tips. What are your clues to really warm hospitality? Have you hosted any outdoor gatherings in winter? Had any disappointing or amazing ice bar experiences? Let us know in comments, and — as always — like, subscribe, comment and share to keep these musings coming.