Oh god are potlucks coming back?

Nooooooo!

Bring a dish to share. 

These are the words that will be my demise. Death by potluck. Dear lord, may thy end be braised, scalloped, or roasted as to not offend my culinary-minded friends. And when they’re all standing around my descending casket, I hope they enjoy their made-from-scratch dishes in peace, finally free from my complaining. 

If it’s not obvious, I don’t like potlucks. Well, that’s not exactly true. I love any sort of low-presh, BYO situation. And I love sharing food with friends. But a potluck is a different kind of beast—a sinister creature that pits friends against each other in some sort of foodie thunderdome. 

I’ve long been dying on the anti-potluck hill—and to be honest, if there was one silver lining of COVID, it was the gleaming prospect of never having to go to a potluck again. But a recent tweet thread about social expectations threw me into a downward spiral. 

Reading this tweet in particular was like having spent two years running wild and free and naked through the grass, only to encounter a sign stating “Actually you have to wear clothes and walk.” I know the intentions behind it are good, but as we enter the season of Friendsgiving, Friendnukkah, Friendmas, Boxing Friends and New Friends Eve—all with their accompanying potlucks—I fear we’re going to slip back into the alienating social norms that determine what’s “rude” or not. 

My biggest issue with potlucks is—in some cases—the unspoken expectation that bringing something is your admission to the party. That is: If you don’t bring a gift, it’s rude. Fuck outta here. I’ll tell you right now that if I invite you to my house for any sort of shindig, it is perfectly fine to show up empty-handed. Our friendship is not a transaction. Also, uh, who cares? Who is even noticing this stuff? I mean, every time I go to a Friendsgiving, I bring a bottle of Wild Turkey and stand next to it for the first hour just to make sure everyone gets the joke (Thanksgiving turkey = Wild Turkey ehhhhh?), but I’m also aware this is totally deranged. If any hosts are keeping tabs on who brings what, they’re the reason we can’t have nice things. 

Also, for someone like me who’s not well-versed in the art of making food, potlucks often feel like a major flex for people to assert their culinary dominance. It used to be that nobody gave a shit if I could or couldn’t braise a carrot, simmer a reduction or bacon-wrap a something. But now that everybody’s cultured about everything, it’s harder to hide my own lack of experience. I don’t know when everybody suddenly became a foodie, but I missed that boat. Tell me to microwave a plate of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and there’s still a 35% chance that I’ll fuck it up. 

But more powerful than the shame is the disappointment. Is this the future that younger us imagined? I remember late nights spent dreaming of the freedoms that came with adulthood, when I could throw caution to the wind, stay out all night, and get drunk on life’s rich pageant. I don’t know at what age people stop bringing thirty-packs to a party and start bringing dishes to share instead, but it happens gradually. Suddenly you wake up with gray in your sideburns, fifty copies of the latest The National album, and a seran-wrapped plate of homemade whatever. 

Spoken like a true midlife crisis, right? Obviously, this anti-potluck thing is a me thing, and I will still gorge myself on a good spread. Like I said, there’s nothing inherently wrong with sharing food with friends or communal dinners, but when it feels obligatory—that’s when the red flags start flapping. 

I’m sure there are other people who feel the same irrational dread toward potlucks, so if you’re like me, here are a few tips: 

Remember, we’re still in a pandemic: Let’s not forget that there’s still a deadly virus sweeping the globe, mutating by the day. Consider the fact that we are now battling the new omicron variant before sending out the invites. Also, people may be wary of homemade food, so don’t be upset when people hesitate before diving into your truffle-infused mac & cheese. Not a good year to make your special spit casserole, bros!

Just be cool: I always remind myself that no one knows the thoughts that are going through my head. Nobody knows my suspicions about people asserting culinary dominance. Taste everything. Compliment the food. Have a good time. This is a normal thing that normal humans do. 

Don’t fake it: Definitely don’t try to pass off a Costco pumpkin pie as homemade. People will know immediately. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’d be funny to insist that you made it, even if it’s still in the Costco packaging. 

If you’re not good at cooking, bring goofy food: I’ve found that bringing funny food is a good way to disarm the shame that comes from zero kitchen skills. I once brought KFC dinner to a holiday party and it went over like gangbusters. However, I then made the mistake of bringing some Little Caesars pizzas to another party, and I became known as “the guy who brings weird food.” 

Finally, when in doubt, bring a cheese and cracker plate: On one hand, nothing says “I panicked at the grocery store because this whole get-together is throwing me into an existential crisis so here’s a cheese and cracker plate” more than a cheese and cracker plate, but on the other hand, cheese and cracker plates rule. Bonus points if it comes with grapes. 

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AWKSD GUEST LIST SHOWS - Available to ALL subscribers through December! 

The Guest List gives AWKSD subscribers the opportunity to see live music for free. Previously, this was reserved for paying subscribers, but ‘tis the season and all that! So, if you’re getting this email and want to go to any of shows listed below, just reply to this email with what concert you want to see, and I’ll hook you and a friend up. First come, served.  

Thursday, Dec. 2

Vitriol @ Brick By Brick: Even though Thanksgiving is over, here’s a show for all you gluttons for punishment. “Heavy” doesn’t even begin to describe the music of Vitriol—this is the type of music that sends normies into an early grave, but the technical prowess of this Portland death metal group is just staggering. 

Friday, Dec. 3

Okey Dokey, Dante Elephante @ Soda Bar: I love the dreamy, sun-bleached sound of Okey Dokey, but the second I played Dante Elephante’s “Call Me (On The Phone)” I knew it was something special. Watch this live performance and try not to smile. 

Saturday, Dec. 4

Necromantix @ Brick By Brick: In high school, the album Return of the Loving Dead by psychobilly pioneers Nekromantix was a regular fixture in my car. Songs like “Who Killed The Cheerleader” and “Nice Day for a Resurrection” certainly didn’t get me any girls, but they were fun as hell. The bassist plays a stand-up bass shaped like a coffin. A coffin! 

Monday, Dec. 6 

Louis Prima Jr. @ The Casbah: Not gonna lie: I was super into the swing revival of the late ‘90s. I doubt I would ever throw on a Cherry Poppin’ Daddies album these days, but I would not hesitate to go to a swing show. Louis Prima Jr. (son of the famous New Orleans bandleader/trumpeter who originally wrote “Jump Jive an’ Wail”) plays the wild style of doo wop swing that would kill at the Coco Bongo (you know, that nightclub from The Mask). You’ll probably have to wring out your fedora after this show. 

Tuesday, Dec. 7

Gost @ Brick By Brick: Anyone who’s been to San Diego’s premier goth night Sabbat should have an idea what Gost’s music is like: part industrial, part synthwave and just a little bit EDM, Gost is the type of act that would fit right in at one of those vampire raves like in the beginning of Blade. 

Wednesday, Dec. 8

DeathCAVE, Nebula Drag, Duhkha, and Blistering Joy @ Til-Two Club: According to DeathCAVE’s Bandcamp, the main theme throughout their most recent album, Smoking Mountain, is “the inevitable death and decay of not only humans, but the trees and the mountain as well.” Hell yeah. Simultaneously cosmic and dirty, DeathCAVE makes metal not for the faint of heart, but it’s a helluva journey for those with a little of evil in their veins. 

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THE WEEKLY GOODS

Go to this 

I’ll just go ahead and say it: Chili is the best food, because it is all the foods. Plus, it’s really hard to mess up. Because of that, there are few San Diego events that I look forward to as much as the SoNo Fest and Chili Cook-Off. In a city that never feels wintery (at least to someone who grew up with seasons) the chili fest has always helped me get into the appropriate jolly mindset that’s required to survive the holidays. My only qualm is that nobody has ever once asked me to judge the chili competition. The Sono Fest and Chili Cook-Off goes down on Sunday, Dec. 5 at the corner of Thorn St. and 32nd St. in North Park. 

Go to this

In the Hold Steady’s “Massive Nights,” singer Craig Finn reminisces about being young, and there’s a lyric that goes “We had some massive highs / We had some crushing lows / We had some lusty little crushes / We had those all-ages hardcore matinee shows.” That was the first thing I thought of when I saw the flyer for the all-ages hardcore matinee show, Fear of Noise. This show will feature some of San Diego’s finest hardcore punk bands (I’m a big fan of Headcount), who will no doubt blow the roof off M-Theory on Friday at 5 p.m.

Listen to this

Over Thanksgiving, my brother introduced me to the podcast Radio Rental, which features The Office actor Rainn Wilson acting as a crypt keeper-like host who introduces a series of “real” scary stories told by the people who experienced them. Wilson’s schtick is simultaneously cringey and funny, but the stories are good—and one in particular about a guy’s creepy babysitter honestly shook me. I was doing dishes late one night and listening to it on noise cancelling headphones, and had to turn it off out of fear that something would sneak up behind me.  

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Julia Dixon Evans edited this post. Thanks, Julia. Go follow her on Twitter.