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Sunday Night

There are sure a lot of ìyokesî about da Minnesota potluck dinner, in particular, da Luterans and their hot dishes and jello. These fine folks in the church basements, however, donít have a monopoly on such unique congregate suppers, as they creep up almost anywhere in Minnesota.

I thought it might be appropriate to consider this amazing feast as it is spread out at churches, township halls, civic organizations, family gatherings and many times on the breakroom tables of local businesses at this time of year (aka pigout).

The aromas alone will knock your socks off. Think about it. As you concentrate Sunday morning on the hymn of the day, the heavenly smell of baked beans, tator tot hot dish and freshly-brewed coffee is driving you insane. You fumble over the words of your favorite song as the drool starts welling up in the corners of your mouth.

And that aroma - why, it remains in the church for at least a week, through the choir practice and confirmation classes, to the finance committee and church council meetings, right on up to Saturday night. You could be blindfolded and still know where you are by the smell of potluck wafting past your nostrils any day of the week following one such repast.

Letís take a closer look at this unparalleled collation. The ladies, usually the ladies, have lovingly spread it out for your dining pleasure. (To save grace, I must admit that a certain number of men often partake in the dispensation of the potluck.)

Beginning at the head of the table are the plates, stacked high and gleaming bright. The napkins are aligned to form a lovely design, silverware may or may not be added, depending on whether enough workers are available to have it ìon the tables,î (that means itís already at the place where you will be eating) and replenished as each diner finishes his or her meal. Coffee cups and drink glasses, likewise, will probably be on the table. If not, youíre in for a challenging balancing act.

A glance down the long, food-laden table and the saliva is once again activated. You stare at that 9-inch plate in your hand and wonder how you will ever get to taste all the delicious homemade victuals before you. After all, Ruby Peterson has come up with a new variation of goulash. And you simply must have one of Mrs. Carlsonís homemade rolls, sample Sara Johnsonís bread and butters and taste Hilda Andersonís green apple pie.

Thereís nothing you can do but get started, the 50-100 folks behind you would appreciate it. The tater tot hot dish, as stated earlier, will certainly be there, you smelled it, now youíll eat it. It may have many variations and some might be disguised, but itís tator tot none-the-less.

Then there will be an assortment of baked beans; thick, globby ones with three bean varieties, runny ones with navy beans, beans with hamburger, beans with bacon, beans, beans, beans. Youíll want to be careful, if you choose the runny beans, everything on your plate will have brown baked bean juice on it. But you can always use the bread down the line to sop up the extra liquid.

Youíve come to the noodle casseroles, most being a tomato-based concoction in elbows or spirals. The alternate will be a smooth, white, cream of mushroom soup-based mixture with wavy noodles and lots of mushrooms.

Then thereís the rice hot dishes, made with, of course, more cream of mushroom soup and usually topped with chow mein noodles. And if youíre lucky, thereíll also be a bowl or two of corn pudding.

With your plate nearly full of hot foods, youíll head on down for the cold jello salads: green with pears, orange with carrots, red with bananas. And what do you do? Add cold salads to the hot dishes and you have, you guessed it, melt down.
Now that youíve got a reddish-green syrup floating in and around the open spaces in your hot dishes, mixing artistically with the brown bean gravy, you might add a potato or tuna salad. At least these stay in place.

As the plate lists to the left and then to the right, you work on your balance while adding a dill spear, a couple of sweet pickle chunks, and a few carrot and celery sticks (theyíre good for you, you know). The next big decision will be bread or buns, wheat or white, with a pat of butter, or without.

By now, itís difficult to see the gleam on the china, and the mass on your plate, which in truth emits pleasurable odors, starts to resemble a science project.

Youíve come to the end of the table, but not of decisions. Thereís dessert. And you have to take it now, because once you get seated, thereís no going back.

There they are, at the end of the table, arrayed in all their glory. Bowls of rice pudding, you betcha, some sprinkled with nutmeg, some without. And pie. Apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, pie with no designated content. Cross hatch crust, crumb crust, crusts with four slits, fancy slits, no slits. And cake. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, white cake with chocolate frosting, (we love our chocolate), spice cake with cream cheese frosting, yellow and pink cake, cake with nuts, cake without. And . . . bars.

And you know where the dessert goes? Right on top of the food stack. With a two-handed grasp on your plate youíre finally on your way to your table to enjoy this fine dining experience.

My question is, can anyone ever really tell what each dish tastes like, or does it all just taste like ìpotluck?î

Now the emptying of the plate is often followed by a pat on the tummy and mumbled words about having eaten too much. And after you set a spell, you retrieve your casserole from the kitchen, with bits of slightly-burnt tator tots clinging to the pyrex bowl. ìIíll wash it at home,î you say, and youíre out the door.

Ah yes, these are the meals that make Minnesotans merry. The wonder of a potluck is that, while no one assigns what food will be brought, there is usually a wide variety of main dishes, salads and desserts and more than enough to feed everyone who shows up. Potluck- itís just another wonder of this great country in which we live, for, as with everything else, when we share our resources we find we are so richly blessed.


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