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Still life of a dressed dining table set for six people. Dining table outside in a garden. Al fresco dining.
Photograph: Flashpop/Getty Images
Photograph: Flashpop/Getty Images

Time to prepare the garden for alfresco evenings

Candles in jars, night-scented plants and a stash of blankets make for magical, unfussy dinners with friends

One warm mid-spring weekend is all it takes for me to start conjuring up evenings dining in the garden. Not the usual solitary potter around with a drink in one hand and a pair of secateurs in the other (we are on the cusp of deadheading season, when the best ornamentals will produce another flush if the spent flowers are removed). This is very pleasant, but I’m talking about those longer soirees that unfurl from glorious afternoons into alfresco cosiness.

I love entertaining outside. For one, it’s more practical: when I lived in a chaotic shared house in London a decade ago, outdoor parties were always preferred because the clean-up never involved mopping. But it’s also more magical: there’s something about candlelight against a darkening garden that you just can’t get inside.

I have hosted tiny dinners on balconies, where the best place to put your feet was on the railings. I even got engaged on my balcony, over coupes of champagne, all the folding table was really capable of holding. The spirit – and essentials – remain the same: candles in jars, food that will stand up to being eaten lukewarm, and good conversation.

A good table and comfortable seating will help people ease in. I sacrificed a sunny flowerbed for a seating arbour last year and have no regrets; it holds a half dozen people around an old chimney pot with a marble slab on top. Trestle tables and folding benches can be packed away when you want your lawn back. Vintage, non-precious tablecloths can handle spilled candle wax, and add an air of occasion.

Don’t fret too much about the state of the garden. This may sound antithetical, but if the food and chat are good, no one will be looking; and after dark no one can see whether you’ve pruned the roses or not.

What matters more is good lighting – so people can see where they’re stepping – and scent. Lights can range from wired-in arrangements, either nestled into the flowerbed or on walls (I like Pooky’s range) or, more simply, solar-powered ones that you can move around. Paper lanterns are cost-effective and look pretty hanging from trees.

Containers of summer plants that pump out scent at night – such as Nicotiana sylvestris, sweet rocket, night phlox or star jasmine – placed around doors and seating area can transform the usual outdoor dinner into a transportative event. Finally, have a stash of blankets to hand: nobody wants to be ushered inside when it gets cold – and cleaning up the living room with a hangover is a bore.

Alice Vincent’s latest book, Why Women Grow: Stories of Soil, Sisterhood and Survival (Canongate, £10.99), is available at guardianbookshop.com

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