Seven Deadly Sins Dinner Club: Food, Friends and a Cherpumple

I’m feeling more than a little gelatinous this morning — still digesting a weekend dinner party that was equal parts decadent and hilarious. Our regular dinner club took a theme this time: the Seven Deadly Sins. Each couple claimed one sin and turned it into a course, so the menu included greed, lust, envy, pride, gluttony, sloth and wrath interpreted through food, drink and a relaxed dress code.

It was our turn to host, so I chose gluttony for the food and sloth for the decor and attire. I’ll admit it: choosing gluttony felt like an assignment written just for me.

Photography opportunities were limited as the evening grew dark and a dozen people crowded the house, so I missed a few shots. Still, some dishes stood out and deserve a mention. For sloth, S&I brought a beer and cheese fondue that was practically a nap in a pot — comforting and effortless. In true slothful spirit, it would have been perfectly appropriate if they’d shown up with a pizza instead, or nothing at all.

M&A embraced lust. They served sparkling drinks made with Prosecco and Chambord and floated halved fresh figs in the glasses. Their appetizer plates were small works of tactile indulgence: steamed artichokes with thyme butter, Indian-inspired paneer wraps, and pomegranate halves filled with mildly sweet, aromatic rice pudding. Everyone was politely encouraged to eat with their fingers — and preferably of each other’s offerings.

Pride was a meal-sized display by P&V. They prepared sliders inspired by a Heston Blumenthal recipe using hand-ground brisket, short ribs and chuck. They even made their own cheese, a comté-like variety, and homemade ketchup. These mini burgers were a point of pride for good reason; a photograph wouldn’t have captured their rich, engineered complexity.

The main course featured a whole smoked turkey from Winter’s Turkeys. The bird was a sublime cross between turkey and ham: smoked low and slow, cooked unstuffed for three hours at 300°F before guests arrived. It filled the house with an intoxicating aroma and served as mouthwatering food foreplay for the rest of the menu.

Wrath came in the form of heat and bold seasoning courtesy of W&S. They delivered spicy scalloped potatoes, green beans with a kick, and curried Brussels sprouts — dishes that cleared the sinuses and delighted anyone who wanted their plate to bite back.

D&N represented envy with a chocolate extravaganza that was both decadent and generously delivered. Costco-sourced dessert aside, the chocolate display lingered on the dining room table well into the next morning and provided a steady stream of grazing throughout the following day.

As the gluttony host, I had to go big for dessert. I made a cherpumple — whole pies baked into layer cakes — a theatrical, excessive creation intended to celebrate indulgence. Rather than the traditional trio of cherry, pumpkin and apple, I kept it simpler and made two pie-filled cakes: apple and cherry, built into white cake batter made from scratch. The result was over-the-top, ridiculous, and exactly the kind of culinary spectacle this theme demanded.

Rather than embedding the original creator’s video, I’ll simply say the cherpumple concept is exactly what it sounds like: whole pies baked inside cake layers, stacked and frosted to create a monstrously celebratory dessert. It’s not subtle, but it is unforgettable.

The evening was a great mix of creativity, generosity and good humor. Every dish felt personal, and each couple brought something memorable to the table. After a night of shared plates, bold flavors and excessive dessert, I needed to sit quietly and digest — physically and mentally. A themed dinner like this reminds me why we keep coming back to the ritual of cooking and eating with friends: the conversation, the generosity and the shared pleasure of one glorious, indulgent meal.