Two years ago, I covered a ginormous dinner party named Señor
Froggy Ocho. It was the eighth annual party held in honor of a dead
frog named Señor, and the only rule is that once you attend,
you’re always invited. Tonight is Señor Froggy X, and this
house’s backyard is packed with eight tables that seat 62 hungry people
and one shell-shocked landlord. “When [the hostess] asked if she could
have a dinner party, I didn’t even know why she bothered to ask
permission…” he says, trailing off.
The food comes out in courses: beet salad, wedge salad, gazpacho,
clam chowder, steak, salmon, shrimp cakes, grilled asparagus, berry
crisp, and chocolate espresso cupcakes. Between every course, everyone
switches tables. There’s a contest, pitting table against table, to
create the best Señor Froggy toast. One of the toasts takes the
form of the delivery of the 10 Froggy Commandments, but the winner is a
song sung to the tune of “The 12 Days of Christmas”—lyrics
include eight pissed-off landlords, five two-day
hangovers, and a dead froggy in the backyard.
Everyone brings a bottle of wine to create ambiance, and the
Schooner Exact Brewery donated a keg of its delicious 3 Grid IPA.
Things don’t get as crazy as the first Froggies were—a lot of the
diners have married (some of whom met at previous Froggies) and there
are five more babies than there were last year, but it’s still a raging
success. “Some people paint, some people write music, and I throw
really big dinner parties,” says the hostess. She’s my new hero.
Want to tell The Stranger that your sausage “might not hit
bottom, but it’ll sure beat the hell out of the sides” at your
house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to
partycrasher@thestranger.com