Hands off the Queen's bombay mix, unless it's party food meant for you

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/dec/13/queen-bombay-mix-party-food-guide

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The party season is fraught with social landmines. If the psychological trauma of choosing which frock to wear is too much, or how to pace the incessant drinking, one of the most distressing aspects is party food. It should be easy – it's a party, what could go wrong? Just about everything – from what to serve, to how to eat, nothing brings out more social judgment than nibbles etiquette.

The phone-hacking trial has thrown up many nibblettes of celebrity ephemera, but perhaps the most extraordinary latest reveal is that Her Majesty is a stickler for her snacks. Even though the grandmother of our nation has thrown open her doors to the public, and dedicates her life to our service, the one thing she is thoroughly proprietorial about is her bowls of nuts and bombay mix dotted around the palace. Clearly a woman of a savoury persuasion, it appears that her police protection officers have been helping themselves to her snackbowls, thus infuriating the monarch so much that she ended up marking where the bowls of treats were filled up to, in order to catch the errant thieves. The crown jewels clearly a step too far, the odd salted cashew is seen as fair game for the boys in royal blue.

Toffs and snacking go together like jellied eels and East Enders. It is a canapé war out there, and anyone worth their weight in blinis should have a strategy to both serve and consume. Her Majesty's approach to party food is somewhat frugal. Buck Pal receptions are all 1970s vol-au-vents (complete with a slimy surprise lurking within), or squeezy cheese on a Ritz cracker. The idea being that you are so overwhelmed by the gaudiness of the Victorian gilt furnishings, and equally gilded footmen, that you soon forget the stodginess of the spread. A sign of true high toffery is that you don't really care – the monarch is single-handedly keeping the bombay mix industry alive, a charmed delicacy that reminds her of empire days. Other toffs have moved on.

Your trustafarian, who goes to Glastonbury and serves Red Stripe at their Notting Hill drinks parties as an "ironique" gesture, will occasionally dish out miniature fish and chips as a sign that they are totes hilarious, but generally show restraint on their nibbles. The watchword is "naked" – naked almonds, naked almonds, banana chips, dehydrated fruit leather (yes, this does actually exist) and maybe some hummus (only if homemade). So apart from barely dressed chickpeas, what is acceptable?

The key to party food is how your guests will eat. Bowl food is considered crass, though very much encouraged if you have an absinthe bar, or sooner or later all dignity will be gone. Don't ever serve fish. Caterers will tantalise you, M&S roulades look so easy, but remember that parties tend to be restricted in space, so having guests breathing crab over one another will clear the room. Smoked salmon is indeed delicious, but wreaks havoc with your ability to charm – difficult to make friends when you smell like the insoles of a Billingsgate fish trader.

Beware the roughly chopped herb; it has a propensity to get stuck in the most awkward positions in the teeth. There is nothing more distracting that working the crowd around you, giving it your best chat, on top flying form, and all they are really looking at is the parsley in between your central incisors.

So what can you eat? When entertaining I like to knock up asparagus tips wrapped in Parma ham, or a ricotta, chorizo and dried fig Scandinavian combination. Quite frankly however, nothing can beat the Twiglet. I love a retro snack – easy to handle, a useful talking point, and always welcome. All of this is entirely useless though, as any party boy or girl really knows – eating is cheating.

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