The joys of the potluck flex

And a recipe for a flexible, veg-packed salad to bring to your next group hang

I’ve noticed I’ve been attending a lot more potlucks than usual this year, all of which have been pretty epic. In the midst of the violent and brutal tenor of the world, I have been grateful for the immense privilege of these soft places to land in collective joy, anxiety, grief, laughter—to come as we are. As someone who also struggles with wanting to isolate when I’m not doing well mentally (and who currently lacks a dining table and is feeling sadder about this than I thought I would), I find potlucks offer more grace and lower stakes than hosting a full-blown dinner party. Scheming on one dish to bring to the function makes me feel light, more like approaching an arts and crafts project than “making dinner”. It gives me something to look forward to, somewhere to direct an excess of nervous energy, an approachable way to choose one thing to make with utmost thought and care, fueled by the vision of how I get to share what I’ve made with my hands with the people I love.

Scene from a recent potluck: Fava asparagus and pearl couscous salad (recipe below), gochujang-apricot beef meatballs, arugula and cucumber salad with shallot vinaigrette, roasted carrots and lentils with avocado and herby feta-yogurt sauce.

One of these potluck gatherings has become a biweekly standing date in my calendar, a way to spend time with new-parent friends over a casual meal after baby goes to bed in the next room. Sometimes we’ll order pizza and drink wine. Other times we’ll go all-out with the cooking like in the photo above from a recent dinner, with one person deciding in advance on a main dish with others making different sides to fill the gaps (I love this method, as it allows for a bit more cohesion between dishes when you’ve staked out a certain flavor palate). It’s quickly become one of my favorite things in my calendar.

Scenes from the Spanish wine tasting potluck. Photo taken by my talented friend Cris!

This weekend some friends gathered for a leisurely yet extremely thoughtful wine tasting organized and led by my friend Rodrigo, who made a full-on creative deck to guide us through eight hand-picked bottles of lesser-known wines of Spain. Following the brief, we all brought an incredible mix of purchased and homemade snacks, including homemade croquetas, lovely cheese and herb toasts, delicious meats, and a lemony tea cake. (I made the tortilla española from the Saltie cookbook with pimentón aioli and Guindilla peppers.) I was struck by how thoughtful it all was, and how fulfilling it was to feel like we had all undertaken something intentionally, together. It makes me think about how to bring this quality of life into all parts of my life, and how to continue to share it with an ever-growing circle.

Gratuitous photo of my perfect Guindilla pepper

I think we’ll be seeing this trend reflected in more cookbooks in the coming year, too. I realize so many of the books I’m looking forward to hone in on highly personal approaches to community gathering around food, from

Hetty Lui McKinnon

’s Linger to

Alexis deBoschnek

’s Nights and Weekends to

Samin Nosrat

’s Good Things. (Also adding two currently published books to browse for some potluck inspo: Snacks for Dinner by

Lukas Volger

and the new What Can I Bring? by Casey Elsass—how could you not be taken with a recipe called “Bruce Bogtrotter Cake”??)

I’m closing out today’s newsletter with a recipe for a fresh, bright, and very green salad I made for a recent potluck, with toothsome pearl couscous and lots of fresh herbs and crunchy spring vegetables. It’s one of those goes-with-everything dishes that you can easily make your own, and would also be lovely for a picnic or cookout—I actually prefer to eat it at room temperature, as I find it more flavorful. I hope you make it!

–Chaey

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Bright and Fresh Fava, Asparagus, and Pearl Couscous Salad

Serves 4 to 6

This salad is a study on the endlessly variable pleasures of combining a nut, a cheese, a grain or pasta, a lemon, and some nice olive oil. They are all you need to turn sprightly vegetables into a complete meal or a very satisfying side. This recipe provides specific measurements and ingredients, but for those of you who prefer to improvise, none of them need to be followed to a tee. I like the Italianate lean of blanched favas and asparagus with salty aged Parm and buttery almonds. But small broccoli florets, thinly sliced raw sugar snap peas or baby Hakurei turnips, fat English peas, or marinated artichokes would make lovely alternatives or additions. If you prefer a soft cheese, marinated goat cheese or a ball of torn burrata on top would be luxurious and fabulous. If you have a nut allergy, or simply desire some extra protein, toss in some crispy chickpeas or pan-fried tempeh crumbles for heft and texture.

Ingredients
⅓ cup raw almonds
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch asparagus, woody ends snapped off
1 pound fava beans in their pods
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup pearl couscous, fregola, or orzo
3 scallions
1 lemon
1 ounce block Parmesan cheese
A fistful or two of whole or chopped soft herbs, such as mint, cilantro, basil, dill, parsley, chives, oregano, or a mix
Mild chile flakes, to taste (optional)

Preparation
Preheat the oven to 325°F. Toast the almonds on a small rimmed baking sheet for 8 to 10 minutes, until they smell nutty and are a shade darker in color. Let cool, then coarsely chop; set aside.

Meanwhile, bring a medium pot of well-salted water to a boil. While the water heats, slice the asparagus on a bias into ½-inch-thick pieces. Pop the fava beans out of their fuzzy pods and compost or discard the pods.

When the water is boiling, add the asparagus and shucked fava beans and cook for 30 seconds to a minute, stirring occasionally, just until bright green and the asparagus is crisp-tender. Use a slotted spoon or spider to transfer the asparagus and fava beans to a bowl of ice water to cool.

Return the pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a medium pan over medium heat until shimmering. Add the pearl couscous and toast for about 2 minutes, stirring often, until it smells a little nutty and toasty like popcorn and is lightly browned in spots. Add the couscous to the boiling water and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until al dente. Drain and set aside to cool.

Drain the asparagus and fava beans well. Pop the fava beans out of their translucent outer shells to reveal the bright green beans within. Transfer the asparagus and shelled fava beans to a large bowl along with the cooled couscous (it’s fine if the couscous is still a bit warm). Thinly slice the scallions (whites and greens) and add to the bowl. Halve the lemon and squeeze the juice into the bowl. Drizzle with the remaining 3 tablespoons of oil, season with salt and many grinds of pepper, and mix to combine.

Use a vegetable peeler to thinly shave pieces of Parmesan into the bowl. Add the herbs, chile flakes if using, and the reserved almonds and gently mix. Taste and adjust with more lemon, oil, salt, and/or pepper. Serve at room temperature or cold.

Do Ahead: Salad (without herbs, toasted nuts, and cheese) can be made 1 day ahead. Store in an airtight container and refrigerate. If olive oil solidifies in the fridge, let the salad sit at room temperature until it liquefies again. Stir in the herbs, toasted nuts, and cheese and refresh with an extra squeeze of lemon juice just before serving.

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Bright And Fresh Fava, Asparagus, And Pearl Couscous Salad Recipe

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