Cuban Potluck #2: A Thanksgiving Intervention

Thanksgiving is over. You ate enough stuffing to qualify as a side dish, and now you have three weeks to buy Christmas presents for everyone who said, “Oh, don’t get me anything.” The guilt is crushing. The clock is ticking.

There’s only one way out: escape to Cuba. Join us for a Cuban potluck and double down on the indulgence with citrusy mojo and golden fried plantains. Your Christmas shopping can wait one more night. It’s already waited since July.

🛂 Boarding Instructions for Our Escape to Cuba:

🎟️ RSVP & commit
Please sign up only when you’re sure you can attend. Your “Yes” puts you on the passenger list and helps everyone plan how much to cook. Our imaginary airline takes its head count surprisingly seriously.

👩‍🍳 Bring a handmade Cuban dish
Each person brings a Cuban dish made from scratch. Simple dishes and first attempts are welcome. Bringing a guest? Bring two dishes.

🥤 Bring your beverage and serving utensils
Pack whatever you’d like to drink and the spoon, tongs, or other utensil your dish needs. Bring your food ready to serve without needing the host’s oven or microwave. Your dish should be ready to make its grand entrance the moment it clears the front door.

💬 Post your dish in the comments
Tell us what you’re bringing in the Meetup comments so we can plan a varied feast. Otherwise, we may land in Havana with seventeen bowls of black beans and one lime.

📅 Cancel at least three days ahead
If your plans change, update your RSVP at least three days before the potluck. That gives someone on the waitlist time to shop, cook, and take your seat. No vanishing into the Bermuda Triangle, please.

⚠️ Known side effects of an evening in Cuba
🍌 Packing fried plantains for every future trip and eating your entire emergency supply before the car leaves the driveway.
🍊 Making enough garlic and citrus mojo to fill a carry-on, then feeling personally betrayed by the three-ounce liquids rule.
🛂 Waking up the next morning and checking your passport for a stamp. Finding a splash of mojo on your shirt instead. Accepting it as official documentation.

Reserve your seat, pick a Cuban dish, and come hungry. The only baggage we’re checking is a casserole carrier.