About a week ago, I came across a post on Yahoo's Shine blog called Why I hate a good potluck. In it, the author announces that she isn't a fan of potlucks and proceeds to detail the eight different kinds of potlucks that she's observed over the years and the reasons why she don't like them.
While I believe that everyone has the right to their own opinion, I feel I must speak up in defense of the potluck. I have a deep appreciation for potlucks (or depending on your region of the country, covered dish or church suppers). I see them as opportunities to taste new foods, visit with friends and family, share recipes and generally enjoy the company of your fellow human beings. Sharing food and eating communally is one of the oldest practices known to humanity and too often these days, we isolate ourselves during mealtime, choosing the television or the newspaper over interaction with our fellow diners.
Summer's nearly here, and you know what that means: Potlucks.
Everyone needs at least one dish they can nail at a moment's notice. A dish everyone will love, from vegans to carnivores. Something that's cheap, easy, quick, yet delicious. Something that dresses to impress. Something that even bad home cooks can manage.
I've always had an affinity for potlucks. There is something about the practice of gathering together with a community of people to share a meal that really appeals to me on a basic level. I grew up attending them, both those at the various Unitarian churches in which I grew up, as well as the more informal ones that would occur every couple of weeks within my parents' group of friends.
Over the years, I started inadvertently collecting potluck cookbooks, until I had six or seven on my shelf. This one, the retro-covered The Potluck Cookbook, is one of my favorites. Written by veteran food writer Dolores Kostelni, it contains a collection of classic potluck recipes from the last 50 years. The images are fun reprints of old magazine and commercial shots from the fifties and sixties, with a few quirky line drawings tossed in for added appeal.
This is a good book to have in your arsenal if you often find yourself asked to bring a dish along (office parties are always a challenge) and you realize that you can't bring your standard Tamale Pie anymore (your co-workers have seen it four times in the last year and a half). It's got good, tasty, fresh ideas (all that was old is new again) and is a fairly slim volume (so it won't take up too much space on your shelf).
Likely, if you're not throwing a party yourself this weekend, then you're going to someone else's, and that's the weekend schedule from now until September. It's high season for summer soirees. And likely, the parties will be potlucks because it seems more and more that potlucks are becoming a popular way of entertaining. It relieves a huge amount of pressure from the host, who needs only provide the place and perhaps a main dish. After that, it's all out of the host's hands, right?
Not so fast. A proper potluck may take some of the food preparation pressure off the host, but it still requires a little bit of savvy planning. What do you need to do in advance? Party professionals offer some tips via the Washington Post, and here are the ones that I found especially helpful:
Hardy greens like Romaine, endive, radicchio, and frisee hold up better in salads
Less chance of food safety problems with vinaigrettes than creamy dressings
Place dressing in bottom of bowl, with greens on top, then toss the salad once you get where you're going - the salad wont' get soggy during transport
Roast potatoes instead of boiling for potato salads
If fruit isn't completely ripe, toss with orange liqueur for a fruit salad
Use frozen cubes of watermelon, grapes, or cherries to chill drinks instead of ice
Instead of using disposable containers, take your potluck dish in a dish that you will "gift" to the host
Serve Asian-inspired foods in disposable Chinese takeout boxes, which are inexpensive at party stores
Having attended a small liberal arts college, I've seen my share of vegan potlucks. The other night, at a
dinner party thrown by some students and alums, I had a helping of some fairly tame looking black beans that turned out
to be palate-peelingly spicy. I said as much to someone else at the party and they replied, "Yeah, they're
hippie hot." That comment served to stir up a question I've always pondered at potlucks and dinners
throughout the years: why is it that vegan and vegetarian potluck offerings are often very heavily seasoned? Is it just
me? Please tell me that there are others out there that have experienced this. Is it perhaps that some inexperienced
vegan cooks fear that their food will be bland and sometimes overcompensate with spices? I don't know. I have nothing
against vegan cooking on the whole. Truth be told, a friend from college makes better vegan baked goods than some of
the non-vegan bakers I know. They made me a believer. I'm not suggesting that all vegans are hippies either. I'm just
wondering if other folks have had similar experiences with spicy silken tofu quiche and such.
Last night I called my husband on the way home from dropping off our babysitter. "What should we bring to the
party?" I asked. We were doing potluck with some of my best mama friends, plus hubbies and kids. I knew there
would be brie en croute (Olivia's specialty) so my husband's first suggestion was off the table. I thought a minute,
back to the snack I'd eaten in the midst of shopping at Bar
Pastiche.
Tapas, I thought.
So I stopped at my fave Italian
market and ordered a range of Spanish and Italian cured meats - jamon serrano, mortadella and a new kind of salami
suggested by the woman standing behind me in line (sorry for taking most of it!), and a jar full of pitted green
olives. I had Oregonzola at home and, once we
arrived at the party, quickly shoved some blue cheese into the olives. My husband set the lovely meats out on a platter
with the olives and extra crumbled blue cheese, making dirty martinis with some of the extra olives. Cured meats, blue
cheese stuffed olives, and a nice pink Spanish wine - salty and refreshing and delicious, a total hit. What do you
bring at the last minute?