The end of holiday potlucks as we know them
Sometimes I look at a story one of my fellow journalists writes (not, of course, at the Sun) and think, "This is just nutty."
Consumer blogger Liz Kay is one of my best sources for odd items, and she passed along this story, which appeared in the Los Angeles Times. I know I contributed to the bad press for the holiday potluck by publishing Bucky's post, but saying everyone brings desserts when they promised to bring casseroles is a little different from saying you're likely to be ingesting e. coli. ...
Of course, you could conceivably get food poisoning from something one of your co-workers made, although I've never heard of that happening; but you could also get sick from something prepared in a restaurant's kitchen.
This is turning into an example of what I think of as the Fruitcake Effect, which has been magnified a thousand times by the 'net. When I was a little girl, fruitcake was a perfectly acceptable holiday food. People liked getting them as gifts if they were good fruitcakes. Then someone made the first fruitcake joke, and then there was another, and then journalists started writing stories about how people were grossed out by fruitcakes. The whole thing snowballed. I stopped making my wonderful Virginia fruitcake because I couldn't give it away.
Some reporter is going to remember the holiday potluck gross-out story next year and write it in a slightly different form. I give holiday pot lucks five years max before they go the way of the Great Auk.