Sunday we had a special celebration for my youngest son, in honor of his adoption, which was made official late last month. There's not a "usual" way of doing a community-coming out in these circumstances -- at least, I've never been invited to such an event -- but we felt it was important that he have a rite, however small, that marks our holding him out to our friends and extended community and saying he is part of our family.
Food, of course, is central to nearly any celebration, from wedding
receptions to wakes to product launches and ribbon cuttings. We thought about how to do this for quite a while, and decided on a potluck picnic. (We considered, among other alternatives, doing a catered reception, something at our house with home-made cooking, or doing an 'event' party at a typical kids party location.) This was not out of sheer laziness, but by design (although one supposes that has some kind of role in potluck, actually organizing a potluck is in my experience just as much work as doing all the cooking, it's just a different kind of work). We provided some grilled meats and the beverages, and a cake, but asked everybody to bring a dish.
We are aware that in many cultures, especially food-gift-hosting cultures, potluck as a concept is a bit alien. The idea that you would make an invitation, and ask guests to actually bring some food, is anathema to the concept of proper hospitality. But potluck is, well, our native cuisine - the New England potluck, whether for a church dinner, a contra dance, or for a working dinner for a non-profit group, that's a tradition Mika and I have in common and of which we are mighty fond.
The origin of 'pot luck' I think is a little misunderstood, at least by my reckoning, as somehow being a festival of leftovers. That's never been the case (leftovers afterwards, yes, but not for the main event). It's not 'luck of the pot' in that sense. Neither is it truly stone soup, where there's one pot everybody is cooking in, that kind of 'pot luck.' And I also suspect the modern interpretation of the word as deriving from the Northwest native tradition of potlatch -- a far more ceremonious festival and with not quite the same kind of sharing of goods as the church potluck -- is also erroneous. Whatever the origin of the word, we take it to mean a sharing not just of the food but of the tradition of cooking. Everybody brings a little something of themselves to a potluck, an old family recipe or a native cuisine or a slice in time of what they have in the fridge. Not everything is always going to be to one's liking in a potluck, but there's a big array of things, many of which you might not have tried before.
And that's why a potluck seemed very appropriate to the occasion. Our son will be raised by us, but he'll also be raised in many ways by the friends and family and community around him. We could think of no better way to acknowledge the important role others will have in his life, and have had already, of recognizing the village, than a potluck.
And our party Sunday was a very nice exemplar of a potluck. We had a lot of international cuisine from Mika's colleagues, some kid favorites, some old home recipes, some central coast "native" cooking (tritip), some down home picnic fare, and a few really interesting surprises. We were very grateful that many people brought copies of their recipes, so we can put them in our son's scrapbook and give him some sense, years hence, of the people that supported us and him and both literally and figuratively sustained us.
