Pot luck, Lutheran style

There are very few things we can be certain of in life.  But here are three things I know for sure.

• Death will come to all of us at some point.
• Taxes are odious and will always be too high, no matter how much we have to pay.
• You will never starve at a Lutheran pot luck.

I try to avoid death as best I can (there are several doctors putting their kids through St. Olaf on what I have spent to elude it,) and taxes are currently a sore subject around here (it is mid-March and the pressure is mounting.)  So I guess that leaves pot lucks, which is one of my favorite topics.

I don't really know how other denominations handle communal meals, because I've only ever been a Lutheran.  But I do know what a Lutheran pot luck looks like.  And let me just say, it's a cultural experience not to be missed.

First, there will be hot dish aplenty.  Hot dish, for those non-Minnesota/Wisconsin/Iowa Lutherans, is casserole, but better.  Say each word out loud.  Feel the syllables roll off your lips.  Hot dish.  Casserole.  Hot dish.  Casserole.  Hot dish.  Hot dish.  Hot dish.  (Oh.  Sorry.  I got distracted there thinking about ham and potatoes, baking in a pan with sour cream and cheese and a heavy sprinkling of corn flakes on top.  Yum.)

See what I mean?  Hot dish is another word for comfort food, and even saying it is smooth and soft and like a hug from the inside.  Imagine what eating it is like.  Tater tots and hamburger and cream of whatever soup and a few vegetables and you have a meal fit for King Harald and Queen Sonja.

It is a myth that Minnesota Lutherans always have Jello on hand, although it is certainly never out of place.  We don't shy away from new experiences.  We like to live on the edge.  Well... we live a short, but safe, distance from the edge.  Fine.  Actually the edge is in barely in sight, but we will occasionally dangle a toe out there, just to test the breeze and say we did it. (Where was I again?  Oh ya.  Jello.  Or not.)

For example, we have been known to forego Jello in favor of fruit swirled in Cool Whip.  Like I said, we don't hesitate to be bold when its necessary to shake things up a little bit.

Minnesota Lutherans are primarily Scandinavian in origin.  What this means, food wise, is that white is a primary color.  Thus, we have scalloped potatoes.  Don't ask me about this awkward dish.  I don't eat them - I like my potatoes with sour cream and lots of cheese piled on top, but you can't go by me.  I'm Irish, so I like to be different.

At the end of the smorgasbord there will be buns.  They are "stretcher" food, and as such, are a vital part of any Lutheran meal.  Here is how this works.  For the first round, you take a dab of everything, so you can figure out what you want to have for seconds, plus a bun to fill you up.  Then, when everyone has gone through the line, and the kitchen people have refilled everything so it looks like you just started the meal again, you get to go back for another helping of the dish(es) you really liked.  (I am not gonna lie here, usually that includes another round of pretty much everything.  Including the bun.)

Of course, we will have coffee.  Lutherans are pretty much incapable of functioning, much less socializing, without their coffee.  Although there will be other token options, usually for the small children, it is in the Lutheran Kitchen Bible that wherever two or three are gathered in His name, there will be coffee.  It brings Lutherans out of their natural shell and makes them almost loquacious.  Which means they can at least discuss the weather without feeling too self-conscious.

Lutherans are not fancy cooks, by nature.  We are reserved, and don't want to put ourselves out there too much for fear people will think we have gotten above ourselves.  But dessert?  We make an exception for that.

Dessert is a staple food for Lutherans everywhere.  I mean, you have to have a little something to go with the coffee, and what goes better with coffee than dessert, right?  I think it is one of the Scandinavian food groups, actually.  Rosettes, krumkake, sandbakkels, Rice Krispy bars with chocolate frosting; it is not a real pot luck without an assortment of delicious treats, always smallish pieces so you don't have to feel guilty when you take two.  Or three.  Or whatever.  No one would be rude enough to count.

There are two things I have noticed about Lutheran pot lucks, which are normally held following church. The first thing is that the food smells really good, and the second is that the service tends be shorter than usual.  I don't know if this is a coincidence, but I have seen this happen on more than one occasion, so I consider it a solid trend.

The final element of a Lutheran pot luck, and one of my favorite parts, is that everyone ends up in the kitchen sooner or later.  We are, after all, Lutherans, so no one expects to be waited on.  Everyone has to pitch in to do their part to make the meal a success, something you are trained in from a very early age.  Whether washing the dishes or cleaning the tables or putting things away or figuring out whose dish is being dried, there is a place for everyone at the table, and in the kitchen.  It is part of what makes us a church family, and we all enjoy the work when we do it together.

I feel lucky to have grown up Lutheran.  Pot lucks are grace in action.  You show up, preferably with a dish to pass but you won't get thrown out if you are empty handed, and you get an abundance of goodness to enjoy.  What more can you ask for?