Hopelessly Hospitable: Our Favorite Kind of Trouble 9/28/2025

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

My husband and I may have a problem. We knew it was an issue early on, and yet we’ve mostly ignored it, hoping for the best. It can be a lot to manage at times. We know this, and yet we always circle back to the same pattern. No matter how often we tell ourselves it would be wiser to nip this recurring scenario in the bud, we return to it again and again. I’m not entirely sure we can help ourselves. That sounds like an excuse, I know, but despite our laments that we really ought to rein it in, we are forever quick to let the horse trot out at the first opportunity. It can leave us weary, sometimes even agonizingly inconvenienced. Words like that make it sound as though we’d surely want to stop—but we don’t. And if I’m honest, we don’t want to. We are repeat offenders when it comes to lavishly extending hospitality.

My husband will invite someone to eat at our home if a blade of grass leans slightly in the breeze. He does so without hesitation at the faintest whiff of an opportunity. And yes, I say us, because we both love cooking and put forth our best efforts when we have people in our home. Anytime someone will be around us for more than an hour, he feels compelled to offer a meal. He speaks the invitation quicker than I do, spitting it out almost instantly, but usually I’ve thought it at the very same moment. The only difference is that my brain is already busy planning before my mouth can catch up.

And then the work begins. There’s the plotting of a menu. If the chosen meal requires long preparation—say, my husband smokes meat all day—then we might be in for a multi-day task. There could be long-term marinating, hours of feeding the fire with wood, or, if we’re lucky, pecan shells for the most delicious smoke flavor. He nearly always begins with the protein; meat is one of his loves, right up there with being on the water and football. Then we collaborate on side dishes, each of us bringing our specialties to the table. While his priority is meat, mine is dessert.

Now, he insists desserts don’t matter to him, that he could take them or leave them. I, however, am not built that way. Nor are my daughter, my mother, or most of my friends. To me, a meal is good but not truly great unless it ends with something decadent, rich, and intoxicatingly sweet. As I’ve grown older, my sweet tooth has turned into a sweet tusk. My husband has made peace with my insistence. And while sweets aren’t his first love, if a good one is there, he’ll never turn it down. These are just a few of the considerations that start the snowball rolling once we know company is coming.

Of course, I also launch into frantic efforts to make sure the house is spotless. The day before a gathering, I attack every nook and cranny (at least the ones guests will see). And heavens help me if there’s a theme involved! If it’s autumn, every pumpkin and leaf must be perfectly in place. Even for a football watch party, I’ll dig out team-colored decor and plates. My husband couldn’t care less about whether the oven towel has autumn leaves on it, but these details matter to me. I’ll spend an embarrassing amount of time choosing the right wax warmer scents for the house—my current favorite being a mix of farm apple, pumpkin, and vanilla cookie crunch.

We’ve worn ourselves out more times than I can count, but I don’t see us stopping anytime soon. Food is always part of the occasion, because we are nothing if not good Southerners—and every good gathering requires food. We love the fellowship, the camaraderie of welcoming others in. And if we can discover a guest’s favorite dish and spoil them with it, so much the better. For us, Southern Hospitality isn’t a stereotype; it’s a way of life. Is our home fancy? Not in the least. Do we serve anything no one else could? Probably not. But will we pour our heart and soul into every dish, every detail, until our guests feel so comfortable they forget they were ever meant to go home? Absolutely. And in case they don’t, the guest room is always ready.