Potlucks Are the Feasts That Meet the Moment
Published by Portland Monthly in December 2025. Images by STEPHEN DYBUS.
THREE MINUTES AWAY, I felt nervous. I hadn’t brought a friend to bolster me. In fact, I’d brought only a bowl of sweet potatoes. Suddenly, I got a tickle in my optic nerve like I might get a twinge of vertigo, then a tickle in my intestines like I might need the toilet. This occasion wasn’t worthy of acute anxiety, I told myself. I resolved to be calmer.
As I parked, I could see people waddling under the weight of their dishes. At the door, a couple introduced themselves as “Pam and Jim, like The Office.” They’d arrived with Jim’s mom’s seven-layer salad. When I introduced myself, another woman piped up. “My alias is Lola,” she said. “Alias for what?” I asked. She refused to answer. So this crowd was welcoming and mischievous.
I’d arrived at the International Cooking and Dining Club, a Meetup group co-organized by Graeme Newell, our host for the night. Newell has the chiseled cheeks of an aging Cillian Murphy and the warm swagger of a man with many friends, which he is. Two years ago, he took the reins from Michael Beck, who founded the club in 2016. Every month the community chooses a country, and members take turns hosting. These strangers, who joined the club online, cook for one another, often dishes they’ve never made before. In short order, strangers become familiars. Some of them become dear friends.
