I am so sad that this is Week 8 out of 10, of Term 2 out of 3, of Year 4 out of 4. It has been SO MUCH FUN. There have been so many moments where I have told myself, “Lizzy, soak up the gloriousness of these moments. Even if they fade out of your memory, you enjoyed them while they were alive around you and that is something special.” Some memories have been beautiful morning or evening skies that I’ve looked up at while crossing the piazza and some have occurred when I’ve been less coherent and I’ve laughed so much. Others have been insignificant details that I’ve blown up to unfathomable proportions because my imagination was in the mood, and others were on the back of important events.
One thing I’ve seen quite a lot of this year has been potlucks. The idea is that at a gather of people everybody brings some sort of dish and they’re all shared together. ‘Dish’ is a fairly elastic term – there is no need for even a dish, if you’re the one bringing hummus and bread or Doritos, two inevitable and vital guests. They can be homemade, shop-bought, or a combination of the two. Sweet, savoury, generally cold (bringing a hot soup is ambitious but not necessarily practical) and individual, this type of social is so EXCITING. There is always a small chance that everybody will bring the same thing. Which would be magical if ultimately a bit too singular. I did a quick google and there are websites which turn potlucks into organised fun by planning the meal, but I’m not sure there’s huge demand for that. It’s all about the unknowns.
The most recent one I went to was for my friend’s birthday, where an enormous variety of things spilled onto the table. There were nachos, meat and vegetable dumplings, two types of guacamole and an assortment of dips, curry, some roasted vegetables, pittas and two types of cake. It was fabulous. I brought my cinnamon cake to another potluck.
An idea flew into my brain a couple of days after this dinner. Why not have a weekly potluck lunch during exam term to boost morale? In my head of course, this means sitting on some rug underneath a blue sky, surrounded by flowers and maybe a rabbit or two enjoying a bountiful spread. It may not turn out quite like that. But I’m going to suggest it. If you are reading this and will be at Warwick until mid-June and like the sound of it, keep your eyes and your ears open.
Let me know about your life-changing potluck experiences!!