I adore pot-luck meals. They give individual cooks a chance to show off our own culinary creativity, but they don’t force us to create whole meals by ourselves. They appeal to me year round, but I particularly enjoy them in summer when produce abounds and inspires.

Interestingly, the term “pot luck” for a meal to which different people contribute is apparently a fairly recent invention, according to the “Food Timeline” … if you consider the 19th century fairly recent.
Before that, pot luck meant that the diner was eating whatever the host had on hand, combining the words “luck” and “pot.”
What we call a pot luck was originally called a “picnic.” At some point, the picnic moved outdoors, and our current definition of pot luck was born.
I have participated in two delightful pot lucks within the last couple of weeks. The first was a reunion of sorts.
When I was a little girl, my family rented a summer cabin each year from our neighbors, the Parkers, at Singing Brook Farm here in Hawley. Other families came regularly as well, and we established a vibrant seasonal community.
Once a year now we recreate that community in part. Parker descendants join us, as do some of our other erstwhile summer neighbors. And we like to schedule a pot luck, just as we used to when I was little.
Today’s pot lucks are slightly different. In the old days, people brought whatever they felt like making … and accompanied their meals with a great deal of alcohol.
Many of my childhood friends now have dietary issues necessitating a bit more planning. This year’s group was particularly challenging.
We had vegans. We had someone who avoided gluten. We had a diabetic who couldn’t eat sweets. We had someone who could eat neither peanuts nor tree nuts. We had someone who was allergic to onions. We had someone else with a garlic allergy.
Luckily, the last two could eat onion powder and garlic powder or even my kitchen creativity might have been stymied! I made the Cowgirl Caviar featured in this column a couple of weeks ago, carefully using the powders instead of real onion and garlic.
I would have been frustrated creating an entire meal for the group, but with everyone making something no one had to try too hard. And there was alcohol to wash it all down, although in lesser quantities than in the pot lucks of my youth.
My second recent pot luck was for the summer board meeting of Mohawk Trail Concerts. My late neighbor Alice, who was a composer, firmly believed that all musicians are good cooks. This group lived up to that belief.
We had three delicious (and completely different) salads. We had goat and chicken curries. We had lots and lots of cookies.
I made a tomato tart. At this time of year, tomatoes abound, and they’re so juicy it’s easy to remember that they are a fruit, not a vegetable.
I planned to make a basic butter crust … but then I remembered that I had some commercial puff pastry in the freezer and decided to use that instead. The day was warm so I baked the thing in the morning and served it at room temperature in the afternoon to avoid having the oven on in the heat of the day.
I wanted a fun base for my tart so I looked online. Many tart makers out there like to use Boursin, the creamy herb-and-garlic spread popularized internationally in the mid-20th century by François Boursin.
According to food writer Amanda McFarlane, Boursin is sometimes called the “Velveeta of France.” That doesn’t seem quite fair to either cheese. It does convey the idea that Boursin is simple, however. Indeed, Monsieur Boursin used the recipe for a basic French spread, Fromage Frais (“fresh cheese”), for his product.
I wasn’t near a store that sold Boursin, but I did have a ton of delicious herbs and garlic, thanks to my friends at Wilder Brook Farm in Charlemont and to my own little herb garden. So I made my own Fromage Frais the day before the pot luck.
With the fromage pre-made, the tart was a snap to throw together, and the MTC board loved it. I plan to make it again soon. As the weather cools down, I may even be able to serve it warm.
Before I get to the recipe for the tart, I want to invite the public to a couple of events at which I will appear this weekend.
On Saturday, Aug. 30, I’ll be at the annual Peach Fest at Apex Orchards in Shelburne. At 11 a.m., I’ll do a simple peach cooking demo (salad, anyone?). Starting at 1 p.m., I’ll be one of the celebrity judges at the Peach Recipe Contest. I encourage you to enter. The prizes are always delicious.
On Sunday, Aug. 31, at 3 p.m. I’ll be one of the performers at Mohawk Trail Concerts’ Thank-You Concert at the Charlemont Federated Church.
Both events are free … although you may want to purchase some peaches (or a cookbook) on Saturday or give a donation on Sunday.

Pot Luck Tomato Tart
Ingredients:
for the Fromage Frais:
1 brick (8 ounces) cream cheese at room temperature
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) sweet butter
2 medium cloves garlic (or 1 large clove), pushed through a garlic press
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon salt
a handful of fresh parsley
a handful of fresh chives
for the tart:
3 ripe tomatoes (preferably of varying colors, but use what you have)
salt as needed
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed according to package directions
Fromage Frais as needed
a little extra-virgin olive oil
basil leaves as needed
Instructions:
Several hours before you wish to make your tart (or even the day before), prepare the cheese. In a mixer or food processor, combine the cream cheese and the butter. Thoroughly stir in the garlic, the lemon zest, and the salt.
Chop the parsley and the chives into tiny pieces. My favorite way to do this is to push them together into a juice glass, invert my kitchen scissors into the glass, and snip until the herbs are sufficiently small.
Blend the herbs into the cheese mixture, and place the combination in a sealed container. Refrigerate for at least a couple of hours; then take the container out 1/2 hour before you want to make the tart so that the cheese softens a bit.
Slice the tomatoes as thinly as you can (my slices aren’t always super thin!), and place a layer of tomato slices in a colander in the sink. Sprinkle salt on the tomato slices, and add more layers of tomato and salt.
Let the tomatoes sit in the colander for 1/2 hour. The salt will draw some of the liquid of out the tomatoes, keeping your tart from becoming soggy.
While the tomatoes are salting, preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the thawed sheet of puff pastry on a lightly floured piece of parchment paper, and roll it out until it is about 9 by 13 inches. Transfer the parchment to a rimmed cookie or jelly-roll sheet.
Use a knife to make a slight indentation (don’t go all the way through!) in the pastry that forms a little border about 1/2 inch in from the sides of the pan. This will be your outer “crust.”
Prick the part of the pastry that is inside the border all over with a fork. This will keep that portion of the pastry from rising too much, ensuring that the crust stands out above it.
If the tomatoes have not finished salting, place the sheet with the pastry in the refrigerator. It should remain as cool as possible.
When you are ready to assemble your tart, gently spread a thin layer of the cheese inside the pastry crust. (You will have leftover cheese, which you may serve with crackers or vegetables or whatever suits your fancy.)
Wipe the tomato slices with paper towels to remove any remaining moisture; then arrange them in a single layer on top of the cheese as decoratively as you can. Drizzle a tiny bit of olive oil on top.
Bake the tart for 10 minutes; then rotate the pan in the oven. Bake for another 5 to 10 minutes, until the edges are golden brown.
Sprinkle small (or torn bigger) basil leaves on the top of the tomatoes on the tart. Let it cool for a few minutes; then slice it decisively into 12 pieces. (I used a pizza cutter for this.)
Makes 12 small pieces.
Tinky Weisblat is an award-winning food writer and singer known as the Diva of Deliciousness. Visit her website, TinkyCooks.com.
