Pot Luck

I attended an event recently that brought tons of memories back to me from childhood: a potluck. Now that I reflect, it has been many, many years since I have been to a true Pot Luck. Of course, there have been dinner parties, office parties, events with friends, picnics that have included an element of contribution by all the attendees – but there is always some grand plan, some orchestration as to who shall bring what so as to fill out a complete and balanced menu. The dinner that I attended was different. This was a true potluck in the sense that it relied completely on faith and on LUCK.

Now, my worst fear of any potluck is that the buffet table ends up filled with Doritos, bags of cookies and store-bought potato salad. And this is why hosts so often tend to carefully plan and delegate their potlucks these days. Perhaps many of us are so far from being cooks any more, or too busy or lazy to come up with something creative to bring to dinner. Or many of us are afraid that our tastes may not match those of others, or the myriad food preferences or allergies or taboos has simply gotten too complex to deal with and so we either default to the easiest crowd pleaser (chips and dip!) or we overly plan to avoid offending someone’s palate.

A true potluck, however, is one which succeeds based on a blind trust in the community to provide exactly what is needed. In that sense, a pot luck is a mirror reflection of the community gathered together to break bread. It reflects the values and tastes and traditions and creativity of those involved. Do we trust that there will be main dishes, as well as drinks and desserts and finger foods? Do we rely upon luck that not everyone will bring lasagna, or chili or salad? Well, it depends on the diversity of those with whom we gather. A community is one held together by bonds of similarities, threads of commonalities, mutual respect and interest, and which values the unique contributions of each individual. A true, dynamic community then should produce a wonderfully varied and flavorful meal complete in its scope and reflective of the contributors. When we are a part of that kind of community – not just a group of people, but a COMMUNITY – collaboration in the form of shared food truly becomes a feast and a cultural exchange.

I am reminded of the weekly potlucks that I was a part of growing up. The community was diverse, passionate, creative, subversive and idealistic. Sunday nights the tribe would gather at one place or another and a table would miraculously fill with food and drink. From a child’s perspective, the table was often an array of mystery foods – many of which were brown, hard, chewy, and clearly healthy. There were crusty home-baked dark breads that took serious time and mastication to get through a slice. There were all-natural casseroles, grains, things grown in people’s gardens, or fermented in their cellars. Jugs of homemade cider, mason jars of preserves or pickles, perhaps a very dense chocolate cake made with honey and whole wheat flour. The mélange of food was always a meal, however, and never the same twice. Each family or person contributed their own spirit in a dish and the afternoon and evening were spent mixing foods side by side and people side by side into a community feast. All were provided for. All contributed. Each taste was unique and complimentary and took its rightful place. Each person had their own place in the group which formed a kaleidoscopic view of the moment in time in a small community in the woods in Maine. As far back as we go, humans have been gathering to nurture one another by exchanging food, by breaking and sharing bread.

It was a refreshing reminder that community can still exist that can support a true potluck. I tasted local-cured olive tapenade, heirloom lentils from Italy with local greens, pierogies, ravioli, green chile stew, chickpeas with chewy grains, raspberry trifle, peach pie, local cider and coffee with Kahlua – to recall only a fraction. But, more than the exchange of food, there was also an exchange of ideas and passions – gardening tips, travel stories, recipes, life experiences. For a brief evening, bundled in jackets and eating by candlelight, there seemed to be the spirit of a vital community still glowing brightly.