How to Host a Friendsgiving Martha Stewart Herself Would Approve Of
15 Years of Lessons from Hosting Distilled Into One Simple Guide
There’s an art to hosting a beautiful Friendsgiving — one that goes beyond a well-roasted turkey and a perfectly set table. It’s about creating a space where friendship feels like family, the food tastes like home, and the memories linger far longer than the leftovers.
This year marks my 15th annual Friendsgiving, and over the last decade and a half, I’ve made every mistake, tested every timeline, and perfected a system that’s part tradition, part practicality, and part pure chaos — the good kind.
Here’s everything I’ve learned about hosting a Friendsgiving that’s organized, elegant, joyful, and (mostly) stress-free — even if, like me, you insist on cooking everything yourself.
The Art of Hosting Friendsgiving
1. Plan, Plan, Plan — Then Let Go of the Plan
It goes without saying that preparation is everything. Sit down weeks ahead of time and outline your menu, grocery list, and even your table color scheme. Make sure your serving dishes are clean, your platters match the vibe, and you have enough forks (you’d be surprised how often this step is overlooked).
But here’s the truth: things rarely go according to plan. It’s like having a birthing plan. You can have a perfect plan, something that you’ve put a lot of thought into, all for the plan to go haywire. Something will burn, the turkey will take longer than expected, someone will forget the wine. That’s just hosting. But the more you plan, the more prepared you’ll feel — and that’s half the battle.
2. Clean Out Your Fridge Before You Execute
This might sound overly practical, but it’s one of the most overlooked hosting steps. Clearing space in your fridge before shopping means you’ll have room for the mountain of ingredients you’re about to buy and for the prepped dishes you’ll make ahead of time.
It also makes the whole cooking process smoother — you’ll be able to store components as you go, and you won’t find yourself trying to wedge a 15-pound turkey next to a half-empty jar of pickles on Thanksgiving morning.
3. Stick to the Classics - They’re Classic for a Reason
I’m a firm believer that hosting isn’t the time to reinvent the wheel. My turkey recipe hasn’t changed in over a decade — it’s simple, reliable, and always a crowd-pleaser. My stuffing? Semi-homemade with boxed stuffing as a base, but elevated with ground sausage, onions, and fresh herbs. Green bean casserole? Classic. Mashed potatoes? Fluffy, buttery, uncomplicated.
If you want to experiment, save it for dessert or an appetizer. But the main meal should be comforting, familiar, and delicious — because no one’s ever complained about a Thanksgiving table that feels like home.
4. Set the Table With What You Have (and What You Love)
Setting a beautiful table doesn’t require a last-minute trip to Williams-Sonoma or a cart full of brand-new décor. In fact, some of my favorite tables I’ve ever set came from simply using what I already owned—and, more importantly, what held meaning.
For this year’s Friendsgiving, I reached for the things that have been quietly waiting in my cabinets all year: the gold chargers I bought over a decade ago, the vintage crystal candlestick holders I thrifted for under $10, and my husband’s grandmother’s china that I inherited and cherish more than anything you could buy off a registry. These pieces aren’t just pretty—they tell a story. And a well-set table should always tell a story.
There’s a certain magic that happens when you mix old and new, polished and imperfect. The gleam of crystal found on a bottom shelf at a dusty antique store. The weight of heirloom china passed down through generations. The velvet runner you impulsively grabbed at HomeGoods because it reminded you of an old Ralph Lauren ad. Put them all together, and suddenly the table feels collected, intentional, and inviting—never fussy.
My rule is simple: use what you love, not what’s trendy. A timeless table comes from pieces that have lived a little. Layer your linens. Mix your metals. Dust off the candlesticks. Arrange your flowers imperfectly. And don’t be afraid of a little patina—elegance doesn’t mean everything looks new; elegance means everything has character.
So whether you’re working with mismatched thrifted crystal or your wedding china, don’t overthink it. A beautiful table isn’t about perfection—it’s about warmth, tradition, and celebrating the people gathered around it.
5. Timing Is Everything (And So Is Doing Things the Night Before)
The key to hosting without losing your mind? Do as much as you possibly can ahead of time.
Here’s what my Friendsgiving prep usually looks like:
Night before: Brown the sausage and sauté vegetables for the stuffing. Make the cranberry sauce and refrigerate it in the serving dish so it’s ready to go. Bake any desserts (my salted caramel pie is a non-negotiable). Clean and straighten up as much as possible.
Morning of: First thing — shower. (Trust me, if you wait, it might not happen.) Then prep the turkey and get it in the oven. Once it’s roasting, prep the stuffing and green bean casserole, and store them in the fridge until the turkey is done.
As guests arrive: Peel potatoes and keep them in a pot of cold water until you’re ready to boil them. Time your turkey to finish roasting just as guests arrive, then pop the casseroles into the oven while the turkey rests. Carve and plate the turkey, mash the potatoes, and get ready to serve.
If you have two ovens, I envy you. If not, stuffing and green bean casserole can absolutely bake side by side — practicality always wins.
I might insist on cooking everything myself, but I’ve learned that even the most seasoned hostess can’t (and shouldn’t) do everything.
My best friend Leah has been my Friendsgiving right hand for 15 years. She arrives a little early to light the candles, pour the wine, fill the water glasses, and make sure the table is ready while I’m putting the finishing touches on dinner. Everyone needs a Leah.
6. Delegate the Final Touches
7. Don’t Forget Why You’re Doing This
Once the food is on the table and the wine is flowing, your only job is to enjoy it. Hosting isn’t about perfection — it’s about connection.
At my table, we have a tradition: every year, before we dig in, we go around and share what we’re thankful for. We’ve been friends for nearly 20 years, and we’ve weathered so many chapters of life together — weddings, babies, heartbreaks, new jobs, new cities. There’s always laughter, sometimes tears, and every year I’m reminded why I keep doing this.
Because yes, it’s a lot of work. But it’s worth it — every single time.
