Supermarket readymade party food can be hit and miss

It’s Christmas party season, and as we prepare to don our tackiest jumpers and pour questionable amounts of eggnog (my German great-grandmother was rather fond of a tipple of the eggy nog), we tend to host friends and family at home.

Flip through glossy food magazines or tune into festive cooking shows, and the parade of canapés and finger food stacked like edible Jenga towers can be downright overwhelming.

Personally, I love making finger food—tiny bites of joy that keep the mulled wine flowing and the conversation rolling. But this year? Not happening. No time.

Santa’s on a tight schedule, and so am I. While reminiscing over past parties I hosted, I found myself wondering: how are others navigating the festive hosting hustle? Are they whipping up gourmet delights from scratch, or leaning into the convenience of supermarket party food?

So far, I’ve avoided it like a snowstorm, preferring to flex my culinary muscles for my friends. But in the spirit of research, I decided to take the plunge and conduct a taste test.

The look on Mr. T’s face when I hauled home my frozen bounty was priceless. Equal parts concern and disbelief, like he thought I’d signed up for a one-way trip to the North Pole of bad taste. To be honest, my expectations were lower than evil elf’s nice list.

Still, I kept an open mind. On the menu: garlic & herb cheese balls and an Indian snack selection from Aldi, vegetable gyozas from Tesco, and prawn lollipops from Dunnes Stores. The selection available in all supermarkets was rather extensive and the decisions were in the end down to my personal preference (I don’t like chicken and a lot of the party food was chicken-based). The garlic & herb cheese balls weren’t bad but not great. The kind of thing you’d eat because it’s there but wouldn’t bother Instagramming. A safe, inoffensive choice that probably won’t cause a scandal at your party unless someone’s lactose-intolerant.

The Indian snack selection was a mixed bag of onion bhajis, pakoras, and samosas. The bhajis had a decent onion kick, and the pakoras were spicy enough to make Mr T sweat (I thought they were fine). The samosas, however, were flavour-flat and I wasn’t fond of the pastry.

Still, this platter would do the trick if you’re munching while watching a festive soccer match. The vegetable gyozas on the other hand were a sad miss. Sure, the pastry had a nice crunch, but the filling? Bland as a snowstorm in February. The soy and ginger dip didn’t help matters—it tasted like disappointment in a bottle. Tip: skip these and head straight to Miyazaki for the real deal. The prawn lollipops were the unexpected star of the show! Crispy, tender, and delightfully moreish. They lost their festive red-and-green colouring in the oven, but who cares when they taste this good? I’d buy them again for a solo snack session.

All in all, everything was cooked per the packaging instructions, which conveniently aligned in temperature and timing. One oven, one go—no drama.

Will I be serving supermarket nibbles at future gatherings? Nope.

But if you see me with a stash of prawn lollipops, keep your questions to yourself!