In praise of potluck

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With summer come many delights, such as seeing that giant, golden orb in the sky again and potluck dinners. I love them because they combine  two of my favorite activities:  talking and eating.

So over the years I’ve been to lots of potlucks—a few of which I will never forget.

***In the Memorable But Not in a Good Way category was one many years ago when my son was in pre-school. Out of a small group of parents, about five or six brought exactly the same thing—macaroni salad. I like it, but enough is enough.

***Fast forward to last summer’s annual neighborhood potluck.  It had all the elements of Potluck Greatness:  a variety of tasty food, spectacular weather, and congenial company. What made it so memorable, though, was the salmon.

I live in the Pacific Northwest, and I eat a lot of salmon.  I cook a lot of salmon.  My BF and I even joke about it.  When I cook it, he’ll say “What, salmon again?” in this mock-petulant, disappointed-little-boy tone.

This salmon was indescribably delicious, and it turned out that my neighbor had caught it and smoked it himself. (Is it too much to hope that he’ll do that again this summer?)

***Also last summer was a potluck to celebrate the 20th anniversary of my Toastmaster club. It achieved Potluck Greatness and more. As we socialized on the deck, iridescent, red-throated hummingbirds flew up and hovered,   sipping nectar from the hanging plants. And later as we gathered on the lawn below for a short ceremony, a single bald eagle soared high overhead.

Have a wonderful Fourth of July, everyone!

Photo by meddygarnet

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