Neighbors gather in a backyard for their monthly seasonal potluck — sharing fresh, homemade dishes under open skies, where good food and fresh air nourish more than just appetites.
“It’s amazing how different you feel when you eat what’s fresh, share it with others, and do it outside. It feeds more than just your body.”
—James Liu, neighbor
In a Vienna neighborhood just off Tapawingo Road, a love of seasonal food has quietly evolved into a beloved local ritual. The scents of root vegetables slathered with olive oil and sprinkled with rosemary or apple cider simmering in a crockpot often waft through homes any given Sunday evening. But these aren’t just cozy family dinners. They’re part of a small, heartwarming tradition that’s brought a group of neighbors closer than ever: a monthly seasonal potluck born out of a shared love for fresh, local food.
It began modestly two years ago when longtime resident Carol Branson invited a few nearby neighbors to walk with her to the Vienna Farmers Market on Church Street one Saturday morning. “It was more about the company than the shopping,” Carol admits with a laugh. “But we came back with so many heirloom tomatoes, we figured we had to do something about it.”
From that spontaneous walk sprouted a tradition. Now, a rotating group of seven to ten neighbors primarily from Tapawingo Road and the surrounding blocks meets at the market once or twice a month from late spring through fall. Their goal is simple: buy what’s in season, then gather at someone’s home a few days later for a shared meal made entirely from what they purchased.
There’s no formal group name, no matching aprons, and no pressure. Just genuine companionship and a growing list of crowd-pleasing dishes like butternut squash lasagna, lemony kale and farro salad, and berry tarts with rosemary crusts. In summer, you’re likely to find platters of blistered cherry tomatoes tossed with basil and olive oil, grilled zucchini boats filled with quinoa, or peach cobbler with a cornmeal biscuit crust. Late spring has brought rhubarb compotes, asparagus flatbreads, sugar snap pea salads, sautéed ramps, shaved fennel with citrus, and creamy carrot soup with ginger and dill.
Each host brings their own twist. Some meals are outside under string lights and citronella candles, others unfold around a big kitchen island, with everyone pitching in to chop and stir.
“It’s the opposite of a dinner party,” says James Liu, who brings his homemade sourdough to most gatherings. “It’s not about impressing anyone, it’s about showing up with what you made and feeling welcome no matter how it turns out.”
There’s something nourishing, physically and emotionally, about eating what’s in season. It not only supports local farmers, but delivers fresher nutrients and reminds people to reconnect with the rhythms of nature.
Carol, who has lived in Vienna for nearly 15 years, says the tradition has changed the way she views her neighbors. “Before, I knew people to say hello,” she says. “Now I know who makes the best lentil stew, who finds zucchini, and who just had surgery and might need a meal dropped off.”
One recent fall evening, neighbors gathered in a softly lit backyard to sample roasted delicata squash, mushroom galettes, and a surprisingly crowd-pleasing kohlrabi slaw. Candles flickered in mason jars, and the group lingered long after the plates were cleared, swapping recipes and neighborhood news. Someone offered up a leftover wedge of apple tart; someone else promised to text the salad dressing recipe.
What keeps the tradition going? “The food is good,” says neighbor Denise Martin, “but it’s the conversations that feed us.”
In an area often defined by commutes and quiet cul-de-sacs, this monthly potluck offers something rare: a reason to linger, connect, and savor both the season and each other.