Dish it Up: The Heartwarming Tradition of the Potluck
Dish it Up: The Heartwarming Tradition of the Potluck
This article is part of the Table Talk series, where we discuss everything from kitchen innovations to what’s on the shelves of your pantry. If it’s related to food, it’s on the table.
Potlucks have long been a beloved tradition bringing people together over food and community. Whether it's a way to make new friends in an unfamiliar place or celebrate long-held hometown customs, the potluck embodies the power of sharing meals and stories.
In this collaborative piece, we explore our personal perspectives on the potluck experience. Kim's essay recounts how participating in on specific potluck helped her forge connections and a sense of belonging after moving to a new city. Leigh's narrative pays homage to the potluck traditions in her small hometown, where these communal meals are ingrained in the fabric of the community.
Both stories explore how the potluck can create a space to nourish connections - with new friends, with traditions, and with each other through the simple act of cooking, sharing food, and coming to the table together.
Building a Home with Bacon
How a potluck created a sense of community for Kim
When I moved to the Seattle area in 2010, I barely knew a soul. I had hit a crossroads in my life – or maybe it was just a quarter life crisis at 35 – but after 14 years in a relationship and in a career that every day contributed to me feeling just a little less like myself, I uprooted my life and took the plunge to move to a new place that I barely knew.
I moved north from Southern California in early March; a somewhat auspicious time to move because the Pacific Northwest is just starting to come out of the Long Dark of Winter but hasn’t pulled out all the stops on its natural beauty that encourages its weather-worn residents into summertime amnesia. In short, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.
My family understood that I was in the throes of reinvention, but why I would choose to move to an area famous for its rainy, gloomy days was a bit beyond my sun-loving relatives. Not to mention the additional challenge of living alone for the first time since college. Cooking for one was an immensely weird and hard chore to undertake. I love cooking, but I’m less inclined towards creativity – especially regarding vegetables – than if I’m cooking for others. I started to understand the appeal of the Hungry Man line of frozen dinners for one.
By the time that Easter rolled around that year, I could fully admit to myself that I was feeling a touch homesick. All I wanted was a good meal with others around the table, laughing, talking, and just being together – much like I typically celebrated holidays with my family in my minority. I had harbored big dreams of my first home being place where I would welcome friends and family with elaborate dinners – maybe we’d start a progressive dinner party with our neighbors! – but depression made my few, tentative efforts feel like failures.
My fresh start in my first apartment in Seattle was my new hope to reach for those dreams of community, of food, and of the home that I always wanted. The only problem was that I was short on friends to welcome to my table.
Despite the Seattle Freeze, a persistent social condition in which Seattleites are friendly but rarely commit to actual friendship – I made my first friend, Melissa. She was incredibly kind to this newcomer; we would hang out at her apartment or mine to watch movies or sometimes we’d go out to a local coffee shop to play board games with virtual strangers.
When I spoke wistfully about my dinner party dreams, she proposed a brilliant solution – a themed potluck dinner. I don’t remember which of us suggested the playful theme of BACON but once the idea was out there, it simply had to be done.
My prospects for a guest list were scant but Melissa called on a few co-workers and soon enough we had a small number of RSVPs.
Fourteen years later, I still savor the memories of my first (and only) bacon-themed potluck - we had deviled eggs accented with bacon bits, shortbread cookies with toffee and bacon, bacon-wrapped figs, and Bloody Marys with bacon salt. We also brought out some bacon-themed board games!Not only was the food memorable, but I was able to fulfill a long-held dream to warm my new Seattle home with good people, good laughs, and good food.
From Church Basements to Backyard Gatherings
Leigh recalls potlucks in a small town
My first potluck in Seattle was a work event and I was in awe of the number of dishes I had never seen before. I was also struck by the fact that a coworker standing next to me had only two servings on her plate. When I questioned her about her lack of variety she looked at me in astonishment and responded, “I never eat any dishes other than mine, and Carol’s. We’re friends and I know what her kitchen looks like.”
I was beyond dumbfounded. I had never in my life experienced this type of editing when it came to potlucks. “Oh, I don’t care for this or that,” was understandable but choosing not to partake because a kitchen inspection had not been completed was as foreign to me as my exuberance to try everyone’s dish was to her.
I grew up in a small town in Western Montana where potlucks were a beloved tradition. A tradition that was the staple of church socials, neighborhood get togethers, and planning meetings.
These events always had a festive air. Long folding tables, covered with colorful, mismatched table cloths laden with an array of dishes reflected the diverse backgrounds and culinary specialties of our community. No less than five Jell-O salads - Watergate seemed to the favored Jell-O salad - two overnight layered salads, a plethora of casseroles - oh, the casseroles - soups, stews and chilis in harvest gold Crockpots, and cookies, bars and sheet cakes galore!
The ladies gathered near the table, attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, eagerly observing how their dishes fared counting the number of people who helped themselves to a serving. The children played tag, which was really a diversionary tactic to pinch a cookie or two from the dessert end of the table. The men talked about whatever men talk about when they get together. It always appeared to be quite important. It was a joyous cacophony.
Beyond the delectable fare, the potluck was a platform for connection and camaraderie and or course to display your cooking prowess. In our fast-paced and increasingly disconnected world, the potluck stands as an important reminder of the importance of slowing down, coming together, and savoring the simple pleasures of sharing food in good company - whether you know what their kitchens look like or not.
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Two--St. Lucy's on Columbus Day. Kids in the school performed some kind of show while their families and community ate up trays and trays of everything from lasagna to canolies. Then there was the Adam Kolwaski Post's yearly pot luck fund raiser for some community project. OH! and North Light Boys Club Christmas party with a full line of dishes offered by every enthic group crammerd into my town. Places where I first discovered that food assuage more than hungare