WHEN I MOVED to New Jersey in 2015, I started attending what felt like an endless parade of first birthday parties, baby showers, and weddings. These events included many similar elements: Confetti filled balloons, a folding table stacked with bottles of generic white and red wines, and a buttercream cake.
The most consistent aspect, however, is probably the menu. It’s destined to be Italian-American cuisine — sometimes served by a server, but more often at a buffet — and penne alla vodka is nearly always the main course.
