Here's the kind of response we like to get to a dinner invitation:
We are SO looking forward to seeing you. As for dietary no-nos we don't usually eat endangered species but will make an exception if they are well prepared. F'rinstance, I've had remarkably excellent bald eagle paillard in snail darter sauce - so I won't rule that out. We prefer that most items in the lizard family not be cooked a la stroganoff and (if we can be blunt) we find that when the hosts serve neat's tongue there is rarely enough to satiate the appetite as one is embarrassed to take a less than a humble portion, especially after downing the usual repetoire of negronis and sazeracs. We insist that all goat products be from halal providers as there is that piquant ferrous tang from the blade which makes such offerings so difficult to refuse. As Maria and I spent three years stranded on the archipelago (we'd not like to discuss that, if you please) and subsisted solely on the available stores of Necco wafers and canned otter we'd be gratified if neither of those popular delicacies appeared on your menu. We don't eat coal, pencils, spaldeens, bond paper, laniards, "little people", Lps, sand, lugnuts, quills (of any type), transmission fluid, feathers, or Gladwrap. Thank you for considerately asking. I hope that this doesn't crimp your enthusiasm or put undue limitations on the flights of culianary generosity which you are preparing to display for us. My kosher great-grandfather used to carry a tuna sandwich in a brown paper bag (for many years they say) in case he was suddenly invited to partake in a meal whose kashrut quality he could not ascertain. If you like, I've inherited that very same bag, con sandwich, and I would be happy to bring it if our restrictions prove too much of a bother. It's no trouble, really. Could we bring anything?