12 Best Dishes To Bring To Southern-Style Potlucks

Potlucks are the go-to meal format if you need to feed a crowd without a huge budget or a lot of work. The expense and work are spread equitably among the attendees, who can all make useful contributions according to their strengths: Passionate home cooks can wow everyone with their showstopping specialties, while those who routinely burn water can contribute store-bought favorites or help out with napkins and drinks. Another advantage of a potluck over a traditional dinner party is diners' expectations are firmly in check — everyone knows they'll be eating off paper plates, drinking from plastic cups, and eating stuff made by fellow amateurs.

All of this makes potlucks enormously popular with busy groups with fixed budgets, such as service clubs and churches. And as a transplant to the South from California, I've noticed a preponderance of such groups here — and since moving here, have attended dozens of potlucks. Around 90% of the mealtime get-togethers I've attended have been collective efforts. And while, from my experience, anything from sushi to hummus can show up at a Southern potluck (and get enthusiastically eaten), certain dishes almost always appear and are conspicuous by their absence. Here are some of the classics everyone will expect.

Deviled eggs didn't originate in the South – they actually date back to 13^th century Spain, where cooks mixed the yolks of hard-boiled eggs with raw egg and spices, stuffed it back into the cooked whites, then fried the yolk-filled side before serving. But the version we know now, which gets its creaminess from mayonnaise rather than raw egg and features plenty of tangy flavorings, only came into being in the 1890s, and didn't become popular with home cooks until long after that.

While deviled eggs are popular with eaters all over the U.S., they have special resonance with Southerners, who historically kept backyard chickens and thus had easy access to eggs. This is also why one Southern chef recalled finding herself in utter shock to attend a potluck and discovered that no one had brought any deviled eggs. Many traditionalists insist that a proper Southern deviled egg must be made with Duke's mayonnaise and sweet pickle relish, but cooks pride themselves on their own recipes. And there are no rules saying you have to make yours the way your (or someone else's) grandma did — you have permission to create your own deviled egg masterpiece by mixing in non-traditional ingredients. If you don't have an indented deviled egg platter, you can keep your eggs from sliding into each other in transit by lining your carrying container with lettuce or spinach leaves and nestling the eggs on top.

Another dish that makes frequent (and welcome) appearances at Southern potlucks is pimiento cheese — a thick spread of finely grated (or ground) cheddar, chopped canned pimientos, and mayonnaise. The pimiento flecks add color and zing (but not heat) to the savory cheese, making it a great cracker topping or sandwich filling. (So, if you bring pimiento cheese — either homemade or store-bought — you're also on the hook for crackers or bread to spread it on.)

While pimiento cheese is known as an iconic Southern dish and many a Southerner has fond childhood memories of homemade pimiento cheese sandwiches, it actually didn't originate in the South. Rather, it was an industrial product first created in New York in the late 19^th century to make use of newly-invented cream cheese and imported canned pimientos, which were popular at the time. It was only after World War II (and after the national popularity of store-brought pimiento cheese waned) that Southern cooks started to make it their own by using grated cheddar and mayonnaise rather than cream cheese. And modern cooks both in and outside the South continue to discover new and tasty uses for it — for instance, it makes a great hot dog topping.

Potluck contributors fall into two basic camps: cautious traditionalists who stick by tried-and-true recipes and steer clear of anything that might raise any eyebrows, and culinary mavericks who enjoy surprising their fellow diners with their latest experiments. And believe it or not, there's one Southern potluck staple that's a perfect choice for both camps: chicken salad.

A traditional Southern chicken salad consists of cold chopped or shredded chicken, mayonnaise, and the flavorings of your choice — and it's this last point which makes it great choice for both cautious and wildly ambitious cooks. You can stick with just mayo (and maybe a bit of chopped celery) if you want to hew to tradition, or you can liven it up with adventurous add-ins such as zingy horseradish, hot sauce, or dried cranberries. Chicken salad is a great potluck option for other reasons as well: It's easy to make ahead, and it's also a tasty and practical way to make use of overcooked chicken.

Cornbread salad is a deep cut in the Southern culinary playlist — if you haven't spent a lot of time in the South, you've probably never heard of it. You can think of it as a Southern analog to Italian panzanella — like panzanella, it's a thrifty and enormously tasty way to make use of old bread. Just as panzanella employs ingredients found in most Italian kitchens, such as tomatoes, wine vinegar, and olive oil, cornbread salad enhances crumbles of day-old cornbread with standard Southern ingredients that can include mayonnaise, sweet pickle relish, and bacon crumbles. Other veggies, including chopped tomatoes, onions, and/or bell peppers, can add color and crunch as well. And don't worry, most cornbread is toothsome enough that it won't get soggy or gummy, even with all these add-ins — some cooks liken it to a potato salad, but with cornbread in place of potatoes.

Cornbread salad is a humble dish, but make no mistake, it's tasty. To elevate it and give it a bit more visual appeal (always a good move if you want to leave a potluck with an empty serving dish), many cooks layer the ingredients in pretty layers in a glass bowl.

At nearly every Southern potluck, you'll see a crockpot, which may or may not be plugged in. Beside it will be a small cup of toothpicks with plastic frills on them. And inside the crockpot will be meatballs — tons of little, uniformly spherical meatballs in a sweet and tangy sauce. You use the toothpicks to transfer a meatball or two to your plate (or straight into your mouth). And no matter who brings the meatballs, they'll always taste exactly the same. (My husband and I joke that there must be an underground pipeline around here that delivers hot, sweet meatballs into people's kitchens.) And yes, you'll probably go back for seconds.

This ubiquitous potluck favorite is thought to date back to the 1960s and has stood the test of time for a couple of reasons: First, they're nearly impossible to mess up, and second, everyone loves them. Just make a batch of basic beef meatballs, bake them, toss them into a slow cooker with a sauce made from bottled barbecue or chili sauce and grape jelly, and gently simmer until the sauce turns thick and sticky. Yes, grape jelly is the secret ingredient here — it adds sweetness and stickiness, but you won't taste grapes or anything like them. And if you're really pressed for time, go ahead and use pre-made frozen meatballs. From the conspicuous uniformity of most meatballs I've tasted, I suspect that's what a lot of cooks do.

College football is a big deal in the South. In the college town I live in, no one would think of scheduling a conference, wedding, or other major event on game day, since local hotels and restaurants would be fully booked with visiting fans from the surrounding towns. (That, and traffic will be a hot mess.) And if you drive by campus early in the morning on game day, you'll see fans in RVs with their grills already lit and cooking, even if kickoff doesn't start until after sunset.

All this football means a big need for easy-to-eat finger food, even if you're going no further than your living room to watch the game. A popular choice for both tailgaters and potlucks is the classic football sandwich — basically ham and cheese sliders enhanced with a baked-on topping of seasoned butter and poppy seeds. To make them, spit a batch of sweet Hawaiian rolls into halves horizontally, fill them with ham and Swiss cheese, and top them with melted butter flavored with mustard and Worcestershire sauce, and sprinkle on some poppy seeds. Allow to sit to let the butter soak into the rolls, then bake until heated through. They're great both hot and at room temperature — another feature that makes them great potluck material.

Macaroni and cheese is another sure-fire crowd pleaser beloved in the South. Like many Southern favorites, it originated elsewhere (in this case, Italy). From Italy, the dish made its way to France where Thomas Jefferson sent his enslaved chef, James Hemmings, for training. Among the dishes Hemmings learned and later introduced to the New World — and to the South — was macaroni and cheese.

And over two centuries later, mac and cheese continues to be a favorite among Southern cooks, each of whom believes he or she has the best recipe. A possible reason the dish has such staying power is its versatility — there is no single right way to make good macaroni and cheese, which means there's one for every taste. While white cooks in the South typically thicken their cheese sauce with a flour-butter roux, the Black culinary tradition calls for lush ingredients such as cream cheese or heavy cream to provide thickness and richness instead. And it's easy to add personal touches to mac and cheese with add-ins such as bacon, chiles, or if you want to make an impression at your next potluck, lobster.

A hyper-local favorite, smoked mullet dip is a potluck mainstay in Florida, but to my knowledge, not well known elsewhere in the South. This could be because fishermen outside Florida consider mullet — a bony, oily fish — only suitable for bait. But along Florida's Gulf Coast, fishermen embraced these abundant fish. This, along with a local tradition of home-smoked meat, led them to discover that mullet tastes even better when smoked.

And perhaps the favorite way to enjoy smoked mullet is as a dip or spread. In Florida, you can find both smoked mullet and pre-made dip at seafood markets, but the dip is also easy to make at home. To make it, flake a good quantity of smoked mullet (since it's filled with tiny bones, be warned that this can be tedious). Mix it with softened cream cheese, chopped onion, and a bit of lemon juice and hot sauce. You can add other ingredients, too, such as mustard or garlic powder, but if your mullet is well-seasoned and properly smoked, your dip should be plenty flavorful without these. As always, when bringing a dip to a potluck, bring the dippers, too — in this case, crackers.

At almost any potluck, you'll encounter a preponderance of side dishes and desserts — I've been to events with multiple versions of potato or pasta salad or three different batches of brownies. If you regularly attend potlucks, it's easy to see why this is the case. Typical side dishes are easy and affordable to make and you don't have to worry about how to keep them warm at the event site. (Yes, I've heard of groups organized enough to assign people specific dishes in advance, but I've yet to encounter one in the wild.)

So, if you want to be a hero at your next potluck, bring a main dish. And unless you're dining with a group of vegetarians, the meatier the main, the better. A great option is a Southern classic — pulled pork. This crowd-pleaser has deep roots in the American South, where Spanish settlers learned from local Indigenous groups to cook meat slowly over a low fire. After long, slow cooking, the meat becomes fall-apart tender and infused with a smoky aroma from the fire. Unlike a lot of barbecue, pulled pork is easy to eat with a wimpy plastic fork, which makes it a great potluck option. Toss it with your favorite barbecue sauce or bring some to serve on the side.

No potluck is complete without a choice of desserts, and a choice everyone will appreciate is key lime pie. Its assertive tartness not only makes it a great palate cleanser at the end of a hearty meal with dozens of rich dishes, but it also somehow makes the pie seem light and healthy. (But don't be fooled: The buttery graham cracker crust and fluffy whipped cream topping make it plenty rich.)

Key lime pie, according to most accounts, has its roots in the Florida Keys, where locals believe early sponge fishermen improvised a sweet treat of stale bread moistened with sweetened condensed milk and egg, and flavored with lime juice. After a few hours in the sun, the lime-infused milk and egg would firm up into something like today's key lime pie filling. Modern key lime pie recipes still feature sweetened condensed milk and eggs. But one ingredient you'll rarely find is actual key lime juice. Few commercial growers still cultivate real key limes, so almost every pie you'll encounter will use regular limes.

The South is famed for its layer cakes, but they're time-consuming and tricky for average home bakers to make. For potluck purposes, they can be perilous to transport. One hard turn or steep hill on the drive to the event, and the cake you've spent hours making and decorating can smash against the side of its container and self-destruct. Your safest move is to go for a less labor-intensive, more durable dessert option that will still earn you serious bragging rights: a Bundt cake.

Bundt cakes also have a long history in the South, and if you have a pretty Bundt pan, you can make gorgeous cakes without all the fiddly work of cutting and filling layers. Because it's just one solid block of cake, it's a lot less fragile than a layer cake. It's also easier and cleaner to slice. This is a huge plus at a potluck, where dozens of people with wildly varying knife skills will be hacking away at it. The only major pitfall to avoid is a cake that refuses to release from the pan after baking — to ensure your cake comes out in one piece, be sure to butter and flour your pan thoroughly and run a soft spatula around the edge of the cake before you unmold it.

We've all been there: You have a potluck in a few hours that you'd really love to attend, but you have zero time to cook. And while you want to bring something everyone will enjoy, you're in no position to drive all over town to shop for something special, either. For time-pressed potluck participants in the South, there's an easy solution to this dilemma: fried chicken from Publix.

If you're not familiar with it, Publix is the dominant supermarket chain in much of the South, and is known for its well-supplied deli section and prepared sandwiches. It's also known for its fried chicken, which has shown up at every potluck I've attended. At its best, it boasts a craggy, crunchy crust that holds its crispness even at room temperature and has juicy, well-seasoned meat. I crave the stuff, but I rarely have to buy it, because I know that at least once a month I'll find some on a potluck table. So, even if you pride yourself on your cooking skills, you have no need to feel guilty for walking into a potluck with a box of Publix chicken — it shows you're still a team player, and no one will be mad.