It feels bizarre to be celebratory of anything these days. In the wake of the Supreme Court’s overturning of Roe, and Justice Thomas’ threatening to reconsider same-sex marriage, allowing space for joy this Pride seemed almost inappropriate. Food plays such a major role in how we respond to grief; it’s why it feels necessary to deliver a casserole to a neighbor after bad news, or buy a friend a drink after a crappy day. And it’s why potlucks have long been such a vital part of Queer culture, offering a safe space to build community and solidarity. Food is comfort and fuel. I wanted to explore that this year, gather a quaint mix of Queer friends and strangers around the table, and throw a Big Queer Dinner Party.
If you’ve never hosted a dinner party before, the best piece of advice I can give you is to find a co-host. Ideally, this co-host enjoys cooking as much as you do but enjoys entertaining way more than you do. They have a house with multiple spots for seating, including an outdoor space with a grill (I cannot stress enough the significance of grilling for a summer dinner party). Lastly, they’re fearless with their menu ideas (grilled whole sea bass vs. hotdogs — both delicious, but c’mon). My friend David is all of these things. So, thank you, David (and his fiancé, Oliver) for joining me, trusting me, and opening your home to all of us. Wouldn’t have changed a thing <3
My next piece of advice would be to ask your guests to bring something to contribute, whether it be food or drink. Yes, there’s a world in which David and I cook everything but 1.) stressful, and 2.) why? Potluck style is just the move. It allows us to not only provide for the group in the form of food, but also creates a space where we’re all deeply caring for one another. Plus, you can learn a lot about someone by what they choose to bring to a dinner party.
The evening started with olives marinated in citrus and garlic, radish and chive-butter crostinis, homemade hummus, fresh-baked olive bread, a warm corn dip, and one of the most gorgeous charcuterie boards I’ve ever seen. A couple of friends were tasked with creating the cocktails for the night. One of which was a punch with sparkling wine, green tea, turmeric, and tequila; the other a festive Blueberry-Lavender Vodka Spritz.
The side dishes consisted of a wide array of salads: a broccoli salad; numerous pasta salads; a little gem salad I covered with fresh tarragon and a pistachio vinaigrette; a fruit salad of mixed berries, watermelon, and mint; and a fresh & herby Tabbouleh Salad made by David. Another friend asked if candied yams would be welcome at the party and I would argue they’re always welcome. They smelled and tasted like Thanksgiving, which was both funny and comforting to me.
And then we dove into the seafood: grilled whole sea bass (again, fearless co-host) and shrimp. The fish did cause a bit of a commotion at first. They stuck to the grates of the grill pretty badly, which we attributed to our forgetting to oil the grates hehe. But if you pile the torn pieces of fish on a platter, cover with lemon slices and herbs, and lay the fish heads on top for dramatic effect, no one will know anything was ever wrong :) Additionally, while they were mostly de-boned, there were many stray bones that would poke the roof of your mouth if you got too comfortable. But the fish was flaky and salty and delicious, and even more satisfying when topped with a briny charred garlic scape-scallion-caper salsa verde I whipped together 10 minutes before dinner.
As the night winded down, I brought out the strawberries and cream, opting for ice cream this go-round, because the thought of whipping cream for 15 people made me want to weep. We ate and drank and laughed and jammed to Whitney and Chaka, loaded the dishwasher what felt like 12 times, ate some more, and had the best time.
My favorite thing about food is we all need it. It’s one of the few universal things that connect us. Food is nourishment, love, and relief, and makes conversation with strangers ten times more bearable. Sitting around the dinner table and enjoying food and drink gifted by the group invites everyone to be their full, unfiltered selves.
Food is Queer. No, this isn't necessarily in the food itself (although, I did adorn Grandpa’s radish toast with the cutest purple chive flowers). Queerness is in David grilling 8 whole sea bass while donning rainbow nail polish. It’s in fifteen gays sitting around the dinner table eating said fish and complimenting each other’s gold chain necklaces. It’s in those tiny moments of the realization of mutual friends while sipping a blueberry-lavender cocktail. It’s the entire party gathering around to listen when Beyoncé drops a new song at the end of the night; everyone exchanging big smiles and breathing a collective sigh of relief, realizing everything will be okay, and that the summer was just beginning.
Thank you, Beyoncé.
The Playlist
My last piece of dinner party advice: collaborate with a few (or all) of your guests to create one mega Queer Dinner Party playlist. Only thing better than sharing food is sharing music.
LEEK Recipe Club
For all LEEK recipes, including a few from our Big Queer Dinner Party, visit the Recipe Club.
If you’re able to, consider donating to a local abortion fund. These provide direct logistical support to people seeking abortions, offering financial assistance for travel, childcare, and other expenses.
LEEK is a semi-regular newsletter / market challenge / cooking journal / and community for folx curious about food, and what to do with it. If that sounds like you...
You have so many gifts, Lincoln, and one is certainly your writing. ❤️