Frinner: A Girl Dinner Era

Frinner: A Girl Dinner Era

By Maddy Fritz, Theta Upsilon–Georgetown College Content Manager & Alpha Gamma Delta Quarterly Editor

Living in Kentucky, I've always appreciated southern cooking. My mama was raised on fresh garden tomatoes and biscuits made from scratch, so, naturally, those family recipes made an impression on me at a young age... Fast forward to when my hometown friends and I reach our mid-twenties, we collectively set a goal to host more home-cooked meals, and just like that, our supper club era began.

The idea sounded southern as all get out. We joked about frivolous dinner attire, dainty lace-trim gloves, and sipping drinks with our pinkies up! All jokes aside, we agreed that a laid-back weeknight commitment would be ideal and easy to squeeze into our calendars. So, we settled on a weekly casual friend dinner, or Frinner, as the supper became affectionately called.

The idea quickly caught on. The concept of Frinner was to rotate hosting dinner at each of our houses, leaving spouses and partners to fend for themselves (this was a time when none of us had kids yet, so, of course, there was no shame in enforcing this rule). The dinners allowed us the opportunity to enjoy more budget-friendly time together, with zero stipulations on what time you arrived or left, or what you were wearing. It was simple and convenient. Once a week, just show up and eat. The idea started with our group of 10 women. We each took turns testing out new recipes, opening our homes and dedicating a part of our week to friendship.

As you can imagine, most of us in our mid-twenties were just trying to succeed at providing a meal that wasn’t burnt. However, the no-frills expectations meant that every meal was appreciated equally. As a single lady used to cooking dinner for one, I quickly learned to appreciate the amount of effort it took to cook a meal for a group of people.

I’m sure those who can relate will testify; nothing other than trial and error can prepare you for the responsibility of hosting a home-cooked meal for others. Thankfully, my friends and I are able to laugh about the recipes that wouldn’t make the cut if we ever decided to document a Frinner-themed cookbook!

I personally remember one of the nights that I hosted Frinner. On this particular event, I found myself one step behind in a series of small catastrophes. The potatoes took longer than expected to cook, I forgot to put the brownies in the oven, I barely had enough seating for all my friends (in my small two-bedroom rental house), the TV remote went missing, and at one point, I ran out of clean forks. There’s an old saying: That’s small potatoes, which implies not fretting about the little things in comparison to what’s important.

When I was too busy worrying about the figurative small potatoes (and the undercooked ones), I forgot to focus on enjoying the good company that filled my home. When I took a moment to be present, I captured the view of my friends laughing and catching up in a space where they felt welcome and safe to vent, celebrating weekly wins and the occasional gossip (or prayer requests, as a southern lady might imply).

Social media may have part of society convinced that a dinner party isn’t worth doing without festive décor or Instagrammable moments. What I love most about our Frinner is that we prioritize connections and hospitality. We didn’t need to establish a dinner schedule to realize that our group had shared values. But in doing so, we found that we created a dedicated space for support, no matter what kind of day you had or season of life you were in. To this day, we’re all fortunate for the support system woven throughout our twenties and early thirties, a time when change is frequent and inevitable.

As years went on, our Frinner crew grew. From my niece being our first Frinner baby, to a surprise pregnancy reveal captured on camera during dinner. Our supper club quickly evolved to include children (and the occasional desperate dad who forgot mom wasn’t cooking that night). Most of my favorite memories from Frinner are spending time with friends as they all reached various milestones: their first pregnancies, new jobs and promotions, wedding announcements, moving to a new house, celebrating 30-Before-30 bucket lists and other family milestones (or fur-baby milestones, for those of us pet parents).

Even more memorable were the one-off themed Frinners. We had a few closet purges where we all left dinner with a car full of hand-me-down items. There were a couple of Halloweenthemed events where we incorporated costumes, and even a few Friends-giving (Thanksgiving) potluck-themed dinners. Our mothers grew fascinated with our commitment to our Frinner schedule. It wasn’t long before we held an honorary Mother’s Day Frinner, where we invited our mothers to dine with us. Of course, us daughters would not let our mothers cook a single thing—our southern mamas were impressed!

And then there were the times when we couldn’t gather at all, among the yearslong social distancing that took place. Our Frinners paused, like everything else in the world, due to the COVID-19 pandemic. When the time was right, we circled back to what we all craved the most, in-person connections. Now, we rotate Frinner on a monthly basis to better accommodate all our busy schedules. There’s still no obligation or pressure to attend, you can show up with your ducks all in a row, or show up with your ducks running around with their iPads. We accept whoever takes the time to join us for dinner, no questions asked (even spouses and dads, bless their hearts).

There’s something communal and fulfilling about joining others for mealtime. I’m blessed to have a group of friends that I can rely on, whether it’s for sharing a meal or sharing a story. The proof isn’t always in the pudding, so to speak; the importance lies within the effort made and the memories that last. We all deserve to feel a sense of belonging.

When it comes down to it, you don’t have to be southern to start a supper club. You don’t have to have a polished home to show hospitality. Creating a sense of belonging can be as easy as inviting some tired mamas to a kid-free dinner, or grabbing brunch with a few friends. Find something that you look forward to that fits into your schedule like a (lace-trim) glove. Just remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect. It will be okay if you burn the store-bought biscuits.