Barring the odd martini, whiskey—bourbon, scotch, or Irish—is the drink of choice. Nat King Cole sings "I'll Be Home for Christmas" from wall speakers, and people are elbow to elbow at the buffet in the dining room, piling plates with miniature bacon and cheddar quiches, bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with goat cheese, and pigs in a blanket. Unlike many other hosts in the city, Burke and Orr prepare their own party food, using favorite, time-honored recipes supplied by family and friends. As I survey the spread, composed mainly of simple, salty, bite-size items, Sawyer, seemingly reading my mind, tells me that in Savannah, hosts do not necessarily feel a need to provide overly modern, complex, or especially costly food. Generally speaking, the fare is designed to enhance a good cocktail. A few hors d'oeuvres (and drinks) later, I'm sold.