They Could Have Danced All Night

By Laurence I. Barret/Washington

A state dinner for Sadat mixes politics and peach mousse

Historians of presidential dress and eating habits take note: Anwar Sadat has an aversion to shellfish and dinner jackets. Marginalia in the great sweep of international affairs, of course, but such items were priorities for the White House staff as it planned last week's double date for Anwar, Jihan, Ronnie and Nancy. It was the first state dinner in the Reagan Administration at which men wore business suits instead of black tie. Not a shrimp or crab claw was to be seen. But the Reagans' high style was very much in evidence, reinforcing their reputation as the best partygivers at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue since the Kennedys.

Muffle Brandon, the tall, elegant social secretary, seeks to give each formal dinner "a personality and an ethos of its own." Serious preparations begin at least six weeks in advance. The guest list, which Nancy Reagan has decreed must be kept to no more than 100 to encourage an atmosphere of comfortable intimacy, should be balanced as delicately as a political ticket in Chicago. It is a mix of officials from the two governments, members of Congress, business and cultural eminences, a couple of journalists, one or two party contributors, some personal friends of the Reagans. Says Brandon: "There is usually some tough negotiating."

With just a day to go before the Sadat dinner, some problems arise. The air-traffic controllers' strike bids to keep a few guests away: Actor Omar Sharif, who would contribute to an Egyptian "ethos," has decided not to fly in from London, and Senator Ted Stevens is staying put in Alaska. There is some question about the roses, which are to arrive by air from New York. But the yellow, white and salmon hybrids make it. Down in the basement, the White House floral director, Dottie Temple, supervises the arrangement of 768 roses in table settings.

Near by, other amiable smells emanate from the domain of Henry Haller, the White House chef since 1966. The strike has not affected his operation because the dressed birds for the dinner's main course--supreme of royal squab Veronique--were flown in several days earlier from New York. The choice of squab, to come between cold salmon and an intimidatingly rich dessert of fresh peach mousse cardinal, was a late decision by Nancy Reagan. The original selection had been duckling with glazed apples, but she felt that there had been too many canards in the White House lately.

On the big day, the gremlins are still at work. One of Sadat's daughters, Mrs. Mahmud Osman, is taken ill. Brandon, in the calligrapher's office, rearranges the seating plan. Shortly after 7 p.m. the arrivals commence at the White House diplomatic entrance on the south side. Either Brandon or her assistant is there to greet them when they enter the mansion.

A harpist and flutist play pastoral music while a military aide announces each guest to the press pool. Actors Robert Stack and Roger Moore stir the cameras and pencils.

The mansion's State Floor begins to fill up. With the Marine Band providing background music in the foyer, security men, photographers and military escorts do their duty. Guests in the nearby East Room are offered drinks as they wait in line to be greeted by the Reagans and the Sadats. Muffie Brandon and Peter McCoy, the First Lady's chief of staff, spot trouble in the form of 20 Egyptian security men whose presence was unexpected. They loiter in the lobby, polluting the ethos. McCoy motions the bodyguards into the Blue Room and a few moments later closes the oak doors of the room with a decisive flourish.

After passing through the receiving line, guests proceed to the State Dining Room on the west side, where candlelight and waiters in formal dress await them. Brandon inspects the main arena periodically. "There is good conversation going," she reports happily. "If they're looking across the tables rather than at their partners, I worry."

As the guests finish their mousse, diplomatic business intrudes; it is time for the official toasts. From concealed doors in the paneling, bright lights snap on as television cameras, still photographers and a few reporters enter. The journalists are as surprised as Reagan when Sadat makes a punch line in public of what he has been saying in private talks: that the U.S. should change policy by dealing with the Palestine Liberation Organization.

Afterward, everyone moves into three sitting rooms--the Red, Blue and Green Chambers--for coffee and liqueurs. This is mix-and-mingle time, with clusters forming around the principals and other notables, including Henry Kissinger and Alexander Haig. Serious conversation is frowned upon in this setting.

Besides, it is after 10 p.m., time for the pianists Arthur Gold and Robert Fizdale to perform in the East Room. One of their selections is Debussy's Pour l'Egyptienne, which Sadat greets with an appreciative grin. Farther down the first row of gilt chairs, in his customary spot, is Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger. As usual, he dozes off during the concert.

The Commander in Chief, however, is wide awake. The end of the formal entertainment is the cue for the visitors' departure, and the Egyptian delegation soon leaves. A dance band is now in place in the foyer. The Reagans do a sprightly two-step to How About You? and others join them. Waiters bring out champagne and small pastries to sustain the group.

Brandon remains at her post surveying the scene. The glitches have left her unfazed. "They happen all the time," she says. "You just watch Nancy Reagan move calmly through mild chaos. She's a model for us all." At that point, Nancy is trying to move Ronnie out for the night; it is 11:15, after all. But the President is clearly enjoying a conversation with Robert Stack. For this 70-year-old Chief of State, the night is still young, and he leaves very reluctantly.

--By Laurence I. Barrett/Washington

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.