It was the worst day for a dinner party.

Sheets of arctic water buffeted the glass panes and I kept checking my phone convinced that everyone would cancel. It was, you could say, as far away as one could get from the sun-soaked shores of Argentina.

Nevertheless, we readied the house, setting out plates and swaying to the insistent beat of the festive playlist. Meat began to marinate, empanadas were filled and pressed into shape, the woodfired oven stocked and waiting.

I’m not sure why but I felt a little nervous about this one. Perhaps it was the reality that a lot of the work would have to be done at the last minute, maybe it was the fear that we couldn’t possibly top the Japanese version… It turned out I had nothing to worry about.

The night proceeds as a dance. Guests swing into the kitchen, hands laden with delicious offerings. Glasses are filled, catch ups begin, meat begins sizzling and the wafting aroma of flame-grilled goodness fills the space.

There are mouth-watering ribs (beef asado), vodka and lime chicken skewers; a rolled beef fillet stuffed with herbs, egg and peppers (matambre). The spiced beef empanadas sing with flavour and a surprising sweetness that perfectly sets them off, the caramelised onion and cheese pastries melt invitingly. The spice in the chorizo and South American sausages is like a welcome fire, the choripan (chorizo baguettes) are smoky and delicious. The stews are tempting as well – meat gently falls apart with rich succulence in the Argentinian beef stew, lentil stew so creamy and packed with flavour and a deliciously complex bean dish. There is fluffy rice and garlic bread with a thick mayonnaise dressing that is surprisingly good. Chicken is paired perfectly with the zesty flavours of chimichurri. Everything is like a song, impeccably crafted and enticing.

The kids conduct epic lightsaber battles in the garage and new friends take mere moments to warm to each other.  Harvey dodges the weaving feet and eats half his weight in appetisers before we even get to the table.

There is laughter, introductions, reminiscing and conversation. I love every minute. A rotating pair of hands appears at the kitchen sink and the clean up happens almost magically.

Dessert feels almost impossible after the magnitude of dinner, but eventually we make room. There are home-made chocolate dipped, caramel filled shortbread biscuits (Alfajores) that perfectly hit the spot. Roasted bananas with a hint of cinnamon, fruity mango sorbet and dark chocolate pistachio fudge. We whip up a strawberry cocktail and convince ourselves we will never need to eat (or drink) again. There is Malbec, a white wine sangria and plenty of cider and punch. As usual, I completely forget to take photos except in short, blurry bursts.

These evenings embody life to me – our home filled with people from all areas – connecting and enjoying incredible food. I marvel at how all it seems to take is a little research into a cuisine and the mere act of writing it down (and setting the stage) seems to conjure this magical, wondrous feast of epic proportions. Life is so much better when shared, when meeting new people, connecting with old friends. Spending moments in the kitchen knowing that you will not only be feeding bellies, but souls as well.

I think back to the moment when it all began and the spark ignited, and I feel like it has turned out even better than I ever could have hoped. It turns out that you don’t need a French Chateau in Normandy to be living the dream (although perhaps that could help with the grumpiness and exhaustion that inevitably seems to hit us all the next day!).

If you ever want to host an Enchanted Table feast of your own, just let me know and I can provide you with a menu guide (Argentinian, Japanese, Turkish or Portuguese). Of course, it is very simple to come up with your own plan as well – it only takes about an hour and some online researching of recipes to break it down into appetisers, sides, mains, desserts and drinks.