Full Moon Supper Club

I had heard of the clandestine dinner party known as The Full Moon Supper Club before -- something about a post-Apocalyptic foraging party where they ate nettles and wild mushrooms. So when personal chef, mixologist and thespian Torrence O'Haire, also known as The Starving Artist, sent the invitation to attend his next meal, I gladly accepted.

The Full Moon Supper Club is a floating event, with no particular home. It's been at MadCap Coffee and Bar Divani, but it's also been held at private residences. This particular dinner is located in the backyard of a quiet, Creston home. We sit on pillows and blankets around low tables topped with hookahs, wine from an Italian region a brief flight from North Africa and various dishes of Moroccan, Algerian and Tunisian cuisine. No table was set the same; this was the first thing O'Haire tells his guests.

"The rule is we always do one giant table so we always sit down together," he says. "With this atmosphere, it's harder to do so to force-facilitate mingling and communication, you have to get up and move around if you want to try everything."

Guests are varied and included a casting director, a college professor, a few writers, some students and an orange kitten. As I settle at a table near O'Haire, I realize how many times I've interviewed him before for other publications, namely about simple syrups and mixing classic cocktails. You might recognize O'Haire yourself as the former talkative and helpful bartender at Bar Divani and later Viceory. I believe he once talk to me about the nuances of Creme de Violette for a good 15 minutes.

This learning experience is no exception. O'Haire is passionate about the things we can imbibe and taste and how community is built around them, and he enjoys the history and the stories of food culture. He introduces the lamb and chicken pies, the couscous and the kaab el ghzal, or gazelle's horns -- a pastry stuffed with almond paste, topped with sugar.

"In traditional Arabic and Persian dining culture, separation of courses doesn't really happen and sweetness represents both wealth and generosity," he says. "Sweet things are really hard to come by in these countries, so if you have it, you are probably wealthy. And if you are serving someone something sweet, you are sharing the best you have."

Our benevolent host conducts the club once a month, and the Moroccan meal is month seven. Anyone that wants to host the supper club is welcome to ask them in, and the hosts always get to eat for free. This could be a popular choice for breweries and wineries looking to expose a new audience to their business. The cost of the meal is $30 per attendee, significantly less cost-prohibitive than other supper clubs, and includes more food than you could possible eat, as well as beverages.  Plus, there's the spirit of the thing.

"It's a food event," O'Haire says, "but I think the best way that I can describe it is that it's reiterating a renaissance to the importance of the dinner table as an entity. It's not only important what goes on the table, but who is around the dinner table and how it can bring people together. The whole slow food idea, it's not just fuel, it's history and culture."

While Full Moon is open to the public, they don't advertise strongly. You have to find them. Once you've been invited, you can invite others.  "That's the way an underground restaurant spreads," O'Haire says.

Most dinners are on Sundays and garner anywhere from a dozen to 30-something attendees. RSVPs let O'Haire, guest chefs and helpers know how much food to prepare. A good way to get in the mix is to "like" them on Facebook or to check out O'Haire's blog.

I am told that after the meal, guests might engage in sharing stories or poems or singing songs. The event page for the next dinner, an Argentinean-themed meal on July 17, speaks of lessons in the tango to follow the food.

"My favorite thing about these dinners is when we move into the entertainment side of them," O'Haire says. "It's a motley crew of people from all different avenues. It's exactly what the community dinner table is supposed to be. People who may never have a chance to meet now drink together, tell stories and stay up late."

J. Bennett Rylah is the Managing Editor of Rapid Growth Media.