Who says design must always be so serious? What about curiosity, imagination, innovation, provocation, intelligence and, of course, good old fun?

Our “next door neighbour” in the Showtime house on Gramercy Park, the decorator Amy Lau and I had a crazy idea for enjoying her dining room and our kitchen for Dexter. We would “take the pants off” the usual business of a showhouse – that is, taking one’s work so seriously – and we would actually use our showhouse spaces to stage a memorable dinner on September 11!

Photo by David Ward

This is a bit unusual in the States, as these showhouses are often more like stage sets – not really “live” rooms. And yet our Dexter kitchen is fully functional. So why not chop, stir, pour, spill, eat, drink and fully put it to use?

I was inspired by the Futurist Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, and a “Marinetti Dinner” I participated in at the completion of my first Gothic punk kitchen 30 years ago. And so I suggested we do our dinner on the theme of all things Red.

Amy and I asked the garden designer Enzo Enea, whose team did the crisp, architectural bamboo garden behind the showhouse kitchen, to join us as hosts for inviting 13 design cognoscenti. Preparations proceeded frantically – we had little time – and lots of Dexter-inspired moments later, a clever menu was created, guests accepted and we set about on the details.

Photo by David Ward

The setting of the Red Dinner table turned out weirdly beautiful. The plates had distressed surfaces and tattered edges but were still smooth enough to eat from and the glasses had finger prints printed on them, crime lab style. The dining chairs had embroidered red blood splatters woven into the white vinyl upholstery. Test tubes were positioned just so in Perspex holders, filled with special “potions” to accompany each course. Specially “dismembered” cutlery, which made it harder but a lot more fun to eat, was crafted by Ben Taylor and Emily Steels.

Photo by David Ward

There was plenty of good conversation to be had. Ben, the chef, announced the courses in his red splattered apron, relishing a Dexter-inspired anecdote. He had just the right pitch: witty, impudent and slightly risqué. It made me imagine what decadent aristocrats might have enjoyed in pre-revolutionary France, in their giant chateaus and theme-driven feasts. Ours was a type of creative decadence, indeed.

None of us really got bogged down in the history of red, but the theme worked easily enough with the modern cuisine. Cress salad with torn blood orange and pomegranate splatters; “bottom feeder” vichyssoise with lobster in a pool of borscht blood; seared tuna flesh in a coconut puddle with black rice; “Lila’s roast duck” on a celeriac puree; “Chunks of mom” coconut pudding.

And as always, the Dexter-inspired Johnny Grey kitchen looked even better when fully a mess. Nothing gives me more joy than seeing our work put to very good use, filled with congenial family and friends – in other words, a kitchen to live in.

Photos by David Ward