Irene, a food writer pal, called to dish about a posh party thrown by a friend, as the French say, of a certain age in Miami. 

In a story worthy of Netflix, the hostess invited a group of 24 accomplished women, doyennes all, to a birthday gathering featuring the best of everything. No expense was spared on the food, wine or glamour.

Not much impresses Irene, a former New Yorker and Miami transplant, who routinely reviews upscale restaurants, gaining insider knowledge of the city’s competitive food-and-wine scene. She has spent years developing the Miami chapter of Les Dames d’Escoffier, the culinary organization created by Julia Child. 

But this event was something special.

The stellar food her friend, Karen Escalera, served was the work of the late Joël Robuchon’s restaurant, Le Jardinier. The famous Frenchman’s restaurants on three continents earned a total of 31 stars, more than any other chef.    

But what moved Irene most about the party was not the exquisite spread nor the haute couture nor the bejeweled, high-profile guests. It was how many friends Karen had.

“I don’t think I have 24 friends,” she confesses.

We discuss the dynamic of friendships, old and new. We know that the lack of friends curtails longevity and worsens health. And we are a little obsessed with the epidemic of loneliness that hasn’t lifted despite COVID’s decline.

Irene remains stuck on the number 24. 

I begin inventorying my own circle of friends. And decide to seek some expert advice on how many friends are just right. Pew Research would agree that 24 is a big number of friends to have.

The majority (53%) in their survey reported having between one and four close friends. Only 38% report having five or more. I start counting how many I have, but get stuck in deciding what, exactly, constitutes a friend? And what’s the difference between a friend and a close friend. I think about my own circle, which includes college pals, lunch buddies, book club friends and neighbors. Friends we share drinks and laughs with, or take on a road trip. Friends who always know the best restaurants or movies, or will tell you if a dress makes you look like an episode of What Not to Wear? I’ve got a lot of friends, I decide.

But then there are friends you call when misfortune falls, or heartbreak comes — friends you can count on when life is hardest. I decide I don’t have 24 for sure, nor would I want them. Friendships like that require a lot of time and hard work.

In a city of nearly a half million people, where friends aren’t easily made, Irene says she was moved by the deep generosity of their hostess. She jokes she was pleased to be included as the hostess’s newest friend at the birthday bash. “I’ve only known her a decade,” she quips.

But what really demonstrated Karen’s true friendship took place at the party. It was how she showed her deep reverence for her circle of friends. 

“I’ve seen her increasing warmth,” Irene says about Karen. Maybe it comes with age and an increasing appreciation of how much true friends mean, she says. “You see down the road you won’t have this friend forever. It will end.” 

This was made clear when their hostess read from profiles she had written about each of her 24 guests, declared “top-notch friends.” Among them were CEOs and top achievers in fashion, business and hospitality.

“The party was for us,” Irene says in wonderment. “Not for her.” No gifts were to be brought.

And so, Karen, who has lived well and long, ordered herself a great cake. (“It was chocolate, seven layers, with chocolate beads around the outside . . . I cheated on my diet big time for that cake,” says Irene). She offered her circle what she knew and valued: a fabulous fête — and her articulate and heartfelt appreciation for them and who they were and what good friends they are. After the candles were blown out and the profiles were read, 24 friends filed out of Le Jardinière knowing exactly how they felt on Karen’s birthday: They felt absolutely fabulous.