Our parties started out as humble "pot luck"-style buffets. However, since all three of us are extremely competent in the kitchen, the menus have always been world class. As our parties became more, shall we say, sophisticated, we started hiring chefs from around the world to prepare our food. Then we'd fire them when they couldn't replicate the recipes precisely enough for our tastes and make them ourselves. That's a tradition that we've adapted and it continues to this day. Nothing says "Joyeux Noel" like watching Wolfgang Puck trudge to his car with tears streaming down his face.
ièce de résistance, the coup de grâce, the l'arbre de crevette (tree of shrimp)! We painstakingly dress each shrimp, insert the pimento into each olive (fun fact: pimentos are an aphrodesiac!), brew each glass of gelatinous goo nog one at a time (that last one actually seems kind of silly but tradition is tradition) and set it all up in front of the ugliest backdrop we can find. I think this picture came from the time we held the party in the dentist's office at a nearby insane asylum. Once that's all done, then we brush our mustaches, put on our Christmas sweaters, brush our mustaches again (static cling from the sweaters makes that necessary) and wait for our guests to arrive.