Who Made the Potato Salad?

Every Thanksgiving, there’s one question more important than “What time do we eat?” or “Where’s the foil?” It’s the quiet, cautious, absolutely necessary inquiry: “Who made the potato salad?” Because the people need to know whether they’re about to taste a trusted, time-honored recipe… or participate in a culinary experiment that could end someone’s credibility for life. Some dishes require confidence. Potato salad requires credentials. This isn’t just a question— it’s a leadership assessment wrapped in a side dish. This is about identity, ego, gifts, boundaries, and knowing who should never be left alone with mayonnaise.

Scribe Diva Ink | CJMarie Holdings, LLC

11/19/20252 min read

Who Made the Potato Salad? - A Thanksgiving Guide to Ego, Gifts, and Staying in Your Lane

By Scribe Diva Ink

Every year, as Thanksgiving approaches, families across America brace themselves for one of the most important questions in Black culture: “Who made the potato salad?”

Now, if you don’t know why the room goes quiet when this question is asked, let me explain: This isn’t about potatoes. This isn’t about salad. This is about trust, discernment, and the very survival of your digestive system.

Because one wrong spoonful can take out an entire family tree.

Potato Salad Is a Position of Power

There are certain dishes that require an anointing:

Potato salad
Mac and cheese
Dressing
Anything with “secret” in the recipe
Anything that has to “sit overnight”

These dishes are handled by elders with verified credentials, not people who “felt like trying something new this year.” Everyone has gifts. But potato salad? That’s a calling.

Which brings me to the point:

Some folks get offended when they’re not allowed to make the potato salad… but ma’am, we still need paper plates. We still need drinks. We still need ice. We still need foil. These are critical assignments.

Why are we fighting over roles when the mission is the meal?

The Holiday Version of Ego

See, ego has layers — even in the kitchen. Some people want to be known for “their dish” more than they want the dish to be good. They want praise more than they want peace. They want recognition more than they want the food to be edible.

And listen… Some people genuinely think they can cook. They do. But the ancestors said otherwise. And that’s okay!

Because maybe they can’t cook… but they can sew, or organize, or decorate, or run point on the playlist, or make everyone laugh, or be the designated “tell me what you need” cousin.

Everybody contributes differently. That’s what makes the table whole.

Stay in Your Lane — It’s Not Insult. It’s Wisdom.

The lesson is light, but real: Every gift matters. But every gift is not for every assignment.

If potato salad isn’t your ministry, that’s fine. The table still needs you. Because without the person who brings the cups? We’re drinking punch out of cupped hands like pilgrims.

Without the person who brings foil? Everyone’s leaving with food in shopping bags.

Without ice? The drinks are lukewarm. And nobody wants room-temperature ginger ale.

A table is strongest when everyone contributes from their strengths — not their ego.

Closing Reflection

Holiday gatherings teach us something that workplaces often forget: You don’t have to do everything to matter. Your contribution doesn’t have to be the “main dish” to be meaningful. And staying in your lane isn’t an insult — it’s an invitation to operate in your gift.

So this Thanksgiving, if someone asks, “Who made the potato salad?” Smile. Laugh. And remember: We all bring something to the table… but not all of it goes in the bowl. 😂

— Scribe Diva Ink

A CJMarie Holdings Brand “Writing is how I interpret and communicate what I see—shaping insight into strategy, and strategy into meaningful, measurable possibilities.”