The winter months often bring an abundance of invitations - holiday parties, family get-togethers, workplace celebrations. Sharing meals, conversation, and laughter offers warmth and comfort in what can be a long season. And potlucks abound; for some, a potluck is a chance to share a treasured recipe, passed down through the generations.  But for others, figuring out what to bring to a potluck is a stressful endeavour.  Choosing the perfect dish to share, knowing how much to make, and how to plate it can feel overwhelming.  Even if you’re a potluck pro, you might find yourself burnt out from making your usual dishes and keen to try something new this year. 

This winter potluck season, if your host asks you to bring an appetizer, salad, main dish, or dessert, I've got you covered with a delicious recommendation for each. Easy to scale up or down, with crowd-pleasing flavours, and wow-factor looks, these are sure to be a hit at your next get together. 
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“But while we have no control over time itself, we do have a choice in how we orient to it, how we inhabit the moment, how we own the past and open to the future - a choice that shapes our entire experience of life, that ossuary of time. And just as it bears remembering that there are infinitely many kinds of beautiful lives, it bears remembering that there are infinitely many ways of being in time.” - Maria Popova, The Marginalian 

‍Change of environment

I put on my ski gear, and pull my boot bag up on my back. Covered head to toe, I step outside. My skis are perched on my left shoulder, and my poles are in my right hand. I walk carefully down the snowy path and up through the village to the lift. It’s a sacred ten minutes of meditative rhythmic walking to warm me up for the day ahead. 

New snow has fallen – about twenty centimetres. The snow cats have groomed the mountain during the night. It’s early and I'll be on the first lift up to the slopes. 

This is the change of environment I crave the most at this time in my life. The movement from posed stability to energetic vulnerability, from the familiar to the serendipitous unknown, from the routine to the spontaneous. Here on the mountain I feel like I live life to its fullest. I feel more alive here than anywhere else. Curiosity is my catalyst — I could rest today, I could contemplate other days gone by, but I'm curious:  What will the snow be like? What will my balance and form be like? What shapes of clouds will appear? What breeze will freeze my nose? Where will the trail take me? It is ski season; adventurous, mysterious and invigorating. It provides another form of lifestyle filled with the sort of vulnerability I love.

Of course everyone knows that change is constant, but there is nowhere else in the world where I see, feel, hear, touch and taste this truth more clearly than here on the side of my favourite mountain.

This magic mountain that I've skied for years and years changes all the time. It's ironic really, as it is made of stone and rock, ice and dirt  - elements so strong and stable, so unmoving and unbudgeable, so unforgiving and invincible, yet it is forever changing. Of course everyone knows that change is constant, but there is nowhere else in the world where I see, feel, hear, touch and taste this truth more clearly than here on the side of my favourite mountain. Such a curious phenomenon — this alpine environment that moves and changes constantly, just like me. The weather forecast looks good today, colder than yesterday, but mostly sunny in the morning with the wind rising in the afternoon. Of course, this could change too.

‍Letting change flow

Arriving at the base of the mountain, I put on my ski boots, tuck my shoes away for the day, and once again perch my skis on my shoulder. I use my poles to help me navigate the steps up to the gates; it’s the beginning of the season and this morning routine of getting to the lifts still has me feeling a bit winded as I get used to the altitude. My friend is waiting for me. She and I smile brightly at each other and, seconds later, the buzzer goes off and the gates are activated. We are the first ones through, proud of ourselves for our early rising and excited to experience the thrill of another ski day together. We banter about the beautiful day ahead, our slight aches and pains and need for some stretching.

My friend is confident and bold — an expert skier. Me, I am not as confident and I am no expert. But I am bold, and she inspires me. Most of all, I am grateful for the change of scenery, communing with nature and the joy of being together again on the mountain.

Tensing up in anticipation of a coming bump or turn will surely cause a fall. The key to serenity on skis is letting change flow, becoming one with the change, and then being the change.

As we descend each run at our own pace, our skis pushing us beyond our unique comfort zones, we each experience individualized moments in the quiet rhythm of skiing. Every day on the slope is different, every turn of every carve into the snow is different, at times smooth and other times choppy. At all times, our minds must stay connected to our bodies. It is invigorating and mystifying, as we must disconnect from all worries and all other actions and stay absolutely present. Tensing up in anticipation of a coming bump or turn will surely cause a fall. The key to serenity on skis is letting change flow, becoming one with the change, and then being the change. 

After a few hours of skiing our favourite trails, I tell my friend I want to stop at a lookout spot, not because I’m tired but because I want to breathe in my surroundings. She says she’ll let me have a bit of alone time and we decide she’ll do another run and meet me back here. The sky is vast and filled with a multitude of blue hues, the clouds are fantastical and bright white. The fresh cold air is thinner up here; it smells minty as it passes through my nostrils and it tastes minerally as it drips down my throat. The steam rises from my scarf as I breathe in and out, feeling the warmth of my body. This change of environment is essential to my well-being. It’s not just any change of environment though. 

‍Chrono-diversity

It’s being up at altitude that thrills me most. The physicist Carlo Rovelli in his book “The Order of Time” captures the essence of my pause at the lookout spot. He writes, 

“I stop and do nothing. Nothing happens. I am thinking about nothing. I listen to the passing of time. This is time, familiar and intimate. We are taken by it…. Our being is being in time.”

I lived and worked in this village just below the slopes for ten years, all through my thirties, and now that I am retired, I return here as much as possible. Initially when I moved away, down to sea level and no longer at altitude, it took me a long time to adjust and to adapt to being in a different time zone, but not just a different chronometric time zone, but a different “chrono-atmospheric” time zone. 

I am fascinated by the way Rovelli explains how altitude changes time. He writes, “Let’s begin with a simple fact: time passes faster in the mountains than it does at sea level…

I am fascinated by the way Rovelli explains how altitude changes time. He writes, “Let’s begin with a simple fact: time passes faster in the mountains than it does at sea level… This slowing down can be detected between levels just a few centimetres apart: a clock placed on the floor runs a little more slowly than one on a table. It is not just the clocks that slow down: lower down, all processes are slower.” 

When I read this, I started to understand and accept why I had found it so challenging to transition from life up on the mountain to life in the valley. All of my processes had to become slower; my mental and physical, even spiritual relationships towards time had to change in order for me to adapt and to adjust to my new surroundings. It was a very unnerving time at first, and I found myself longing to return to the mountains. Despite the fact that I enjoyed my new job, raising my children and making new friends in a different culture, my personal processes, like my coping mechanisms, had slowed down and I needed to give myself time to accept the newness of this “chrono-diversity” at sea level.  

Some consider winter a time to slow down and rest, imitating elements of nature that hibernate and tuck in to escape the cold. But for me, it is this change of environment, this other way of being in time, this speeding up and expanding of time, that I long for in the winter months.

During those years, my friend stayed in the mountains; she never returned to life in the valley. And I believe this makes us different in the way we now measure time. Maybe her time does actually pass more quickly than mine? She is a speed queen and can get a million things done in one day. She thinks faster than I think, and certainly skis faster than I ski. 

Some consider winter a time to slow down and rest, imitating elements of nature that hibernate and tuck in to escape the cold. But for me, it is this change of environment, this other way of being in time, this speeding up and expanding of time, that I long for in the winter months. It’s the rigour and rhythm of mountain time. Rovelli writes, 

‍“Two friends separate, with one of them living in the plains and the other going to live in the mountains. They meet up again years later: the one who has stayed down has lived less, aged less, the mechanism of his cuckoo clock has oscillated fewer times. He has had less time to do things, his plants have grown less, his thoughts have had less time to unfold ... Lower down, there is simply less time than at altitude.” 

I guess the proof is “in the physics.” As I’ve learned, it is the changeability of time in the mountains that keeps me skiing through life. Even if it seems a bit ironic and mysterious to me, I imagine I will always feel this type of change to be constant in my life. Though I suppose, that could change too.

Salad - Shredded brussel sprout and grape salad

I came across this recipe by Reilly Meehan and immediately wanted to make it for my next get together with friends. The mix of textures, the salty-sweet combination from the grapes and parmesan - it all comes together in a perfectly balanced salad. This version serves 6-8 but for a larger crowd, simply double the recipe. It keeps well in the fridge, so don’t stress about leftovers.

The food processor method is the easiest I’ve found for quickly preparing your sprouts for salads. Most food processors come with a 2-in-1 blade for slicing and shredding. It's usually a reversible blade attachment that lets you shred or thinly slice your ingredients. To easily cut up the brussel sprouts for this recipe, you can insert the disc into your food processor with the raised slicing blade facing up. If you don’t have a food processor, you can (very carefully!) use a mandolin, or slice them by hand. 

Ingredients 

1 pound cleaned brussel sprouts, ends trimmed, and sliced as per the note above

2 cups red grapes, cut in half

1 cup sliced almonds

½ cup parmesan cheese shavings

1-2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

Juice and zest from 1 lemon

1 clove minced garlic

About ½ cup olive oil

Pinch chili flakes

Salt and pepper 
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• Toast the almonds in a dry pan over medium low heat and swirl occasionally until lightly toasted. Set aside to cool.
• Add the mustard, lemon juice and zest, garlic, olive oil, chili flakes and salt and pepper to a jar, tighten the lid and shake vigorously until combined.
• Place the shredded brussel sprouts into a large bowl along with the halved grapes, toasted almonds and shaved parmesan. 
• Add the dressing and toss well to combine.  
• Season with salt and pepper to taste.

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Main course - Sausage roll

My mum has been making this recipe, adapted from the Best of Bridge Winners cookbook, since I was a child.  It looks fancy, is fairly simple to put together, full of flavour, and can be eaten hot or cold.  In other words, this is a perfect potluck recipe. It usually serves eight, but you can easily double the recipe and cook two rolls side by side. 

Ingredients

1 pack frozen puff pastry, thawed according to instructions

8 slices of bacon or 2 packs of lardons

½ onion, finely chopped 

2 cups of white mushrooms, small diced 

1 lb mixed ground meat (I use ½ lb lean ground beef and ½ pound pork, but you could also use veal or lamb) 

1 medium tomato, thinly sliced

1 egg, beaten

Salt and pepper

Chutney for serving
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• Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C) and line a baking tray with parchment paper.
• Cook the bacon or lardons in a frying pan until crispy before setting it aside to cool on a paper towel. Once cool, crumble the bacon.
• In the same pan, sauté the onions and mushrooms in the bacon fat until softened, about 5 minutes. 
• Place the bacon, onions and mushrooms in a bowl before adding the uncooked ground meat and mix well. Season with a teaspoon of salt and ground pepper.
• Roll out the thawed pastry into a rectangle and place it on your baking sheet. If your pack comes with two pre-rolled portions, I like to overlap them by a ½ inch to create one longer rectangle that fits my baking sheet.
• Spread the mixture down the middle of the pastry, leaving 3” of pastry along each length. 
• Place tomato slices all along the top and season with salt and pepper. 
• Cut the exposed pastry on each long side into 1” wide strips.
• Fold each end up over filling then lay the strips from each side alternatively over the top to produce a braided effect.
• Brush the pastry with the beaten egg and bake in the oven for 1 ¼ hours, until the pastry is golden.
• To serve:  slice into 1”- 1 ½” sections and arrange on a platter with a small bowl of chutney for guests to add if they wish.

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Dessert - Italian apple cake

I like my potluck desserts to look and taste amazing but be as fuss-free as possible. You don’t want to be fiddling with reheating or finding extra plates and utensils when it comes time to serve. This beautiful apple cake from Nigella Lawson’s Nigellissima cookbook is light and airy, with a bright note of lemon, and can easily be served on a napkin. Of course if you’d like, you can serve it on a plate with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a dollop of whipped cream, but it's lovely as is. Serves 8.

Ingredients

7 Tbsp unsalted butter

1 ⅔ cups all purpose flour

2 tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

¾ cup granulated sugar

2 eggs

Zest of 1 lemon

1 tsp vanilla extract

5 Tbsp whole milk at room temperature

1lb (about 3) crisp eating apples (pink lady, honeycrisp), peeled and cored

1 tsp brown sugar

½ tsp ground cinnamon
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• Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C) and grease a 9” springform pan, lining the bottom (cut to size) with parchment paper.
• In a food processor, add the flour, baking powder, salt, butter, sugar, eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla extract. Mix until a thick batter forms.
• With the processor on, slowly add the milk until the batter is smooth.
• Cut one of the apples in half.  Chop one half into ½” cubes and add to the batter, pulsing to mix them in.
• Scrape the batter into the pan, smoothing it gently to the edges.
• Quarter the remaining apples and thinly slice them. Layer them in circles on top of the cake batter, starting from the outside edge of the pan.
• Mix together the brown sugar and cinnamon before sprinkling it on top of the apples.
• Bake for 40-45 minutes until a toothpick comes out with only a few crumbs sticking to it.
• Let the cake cool for an hour in the pan before serving, or leave it to cool.
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