The constraint in a house party is never the food. It is the flat. One lift, a kitchen with two burners, neighbours who will notice if the corridor fills with crates at nine at night, and nowhere obvious to wash four hundred plates.
So we visit first. We work out where the prep table goes, whether the buffet fits along the passage or has to sit on the balcony, and how the team gets in and out without walking through your party. On the day we arrive with our own burners and our own water, and we leave your kitchen the way we found it.
The clear-up is included, and it is not a token gesture. Plates washed, rubbish bagged and taken away, surfaces wiped. You should be able to go to bed.
