Here’s what happens when you throw a potluck for 1,000 people at Civic Center

Part picnic, part art project, The Longest Table was an exercise in togetherness — with plenty of cake and charcuterie.

A drone shot captures the zig-zag formation of the table, which stretched across Civic Center from Polk to Larkin streets.

Culture

Here’s what happens when you throw a potluck for 1,000 people at Civic Center

Part picnic, part art project, The Longest Table was an exercise in togetherness — with plenty of cake and charcuterie.

By Astrid KanePhotos and videos by Jungho KimPublished Oct. 05, 2025 • 4:30pm

Platters of wings sat next to aluminum baking trays filled with lumpia. Homemade Rice Krispie Treats shared space with store-bought fortune cookies. On almost every segment of the long, snaking table were charcuterie platters and loaves of sourdough. Organizers had put out the call for food, and San Francisco responded — including one Portola District couple who rolled up with a small generator and crockpot full of some of the 600 meatballs they’d stayed up all night making.

It wasn’t a street fair or a celebration of life, but a massive potluck called The Longest Table. By noon on Sunday, hundreds had gathered at Civic Center for a free outdoor banquet with 1,000 seats across 10 designated zones. The whole thing zig-zagged across the plaza. One person compared the table to the curvy block of Lombard Street.

Registration was free, and about 1,300 people had signed up. Not everyone came through, so a team of 60 volunteers worked to accommodate those who simply showed up. “We’re finding a seat for them,” organizer Heidi Castelein said. “We’re not turning anyone away.”

Hundreds of people gather at long tables with orange flowers in front of a grand domed government building on a sunny day. — More than 1,300 people registered, and volunteers did their best not to turn anyone away. | Source: Jungho Kim for The Standard

A man in a dark suit listens to a woman gesturing with her hand, surrounded by casually dressed people outdoors near trees and buildings. — Mayor Daniel Lurie made an appearance.

A table with various foods including samosas, macaroni and cheese, dip, barbecue chicken wings, juice pouches, water bottles, and snacks, with people seated around. — Homemade food brought by a group of friends.

A woman wearing a “CIAO” cap and sunglasses cuts pizza while a smiling man in a hat watches at a sunny outdoor event with tables and people in the background. — Ann Kappes cuts a slice of cake for fellow San Francisco resident Paul Moshammer.

Participants wore name tags, family reunion-style, along with the neighborhood they lived in. It was part picnic, part public-art project, and part community-building endeavor, with plenty of wine. Even though there were no prizes, the afternoon brought out a spirit of benevolent ambition from a city that likes to eat.

Retired visual merchandiser Gary Miller led a team that assembled a survey course in San Francisco culinary history, from chicken tetrazzini (invented at the Palace Hotel) to green goddess salad (ditto) to It’s-Its (created at Playland-at-the-Beach).

Two people wearing green shirts, sunglasses, and hats decorated with flowers smile while holding a plate of raspberries and orange flowers outdoors. — Leslie Ihrig and Gary Miller show off their “Beach Blanket Babylon” hats and Ghirardelli flourless chocolate cake. | Source: Astrid Kane/The Standard

Wearing an elaborate hat that evoked the long-running revue “Beach Blanket Babylon,” Miller said he decided against Crab Louie because too many members of his party were allergic to shellfish. “We have arancini made with Rice-a-Roni,” he said, pointing to a pyramid of fried rice balls.

A rectangular cake decorated with orange icing features a colorful abstract face and text reading “ART IS ART” and “Collaborating with neurodiverse artists at Creativity Explored.” — Cara Storm baked a cake in the shape of her friend Ann Kappes’ book. | Source: Astrid Kane/The Standard

A few zones over, table captain Ann Kappes had conscripted her friends to bring cake-themed items. There was a bread cake, a sushi cake, and a quiche with “candles” fashioned from celery stalks with hot peppers as the flames. Her friend Cara Storm revealed the pièce de résistance: a cake in the design of a book that Kappes edited. It was chocolate cherry with rum-soaked cherries and an almond buttercream frosting. How long did that take?

“I’ll say what my great-uncle, the painter, used to say,” Storm said. “‘All my life.’”

Although they each showed up empty-handed, a few politicos swung through. Supervisor Matt Dorsey pleaded a full stomach, having just come from brunch at The Grove — “my weekend office,” he said — while state Sen. Scott Wiener was being fed as he glad-handed the crowd. What was the best bite?

“Someone gave me a homemade wiener dog, a what-do-you-call-it?” he said, struggling to remember the name pigs-in-a-blanket, a common hors d’oeuvre. “A rolled wiener, like a blanket?”

Saying he was headed home for lunch with his family, Mayor Daniel Lurie delivered prepared remarks but didn’t eat. It was OK with him that people were drinking openly in the shadow of City Hall, right?

“I didn’t notice,” the mayor said, winking. “Nah, we have Entertainment Zones. Everybody should be able to enjoy themselves!”

Castelein said she and fellow organizer Pam Baer — a philanthropist who’s married to San Francisco Giants CEO Larry Baer — hoped that people made new connections, then went home inspired to re-create their own version, closing off a block at a time. The city’s permitting process can be tricky, but Lurie agreed with Castelein, saying his administration had made it easier for regular people to throw such events in their neighborhoods. His inaugural party was a street celebration in Chinatown, after all.

In the end, The Longest Table wasn’t vying for a Guinness World Record. And on the whole, it seemed like most attendees were getting to know other members of their group, rather than befriending strangers. Simple togetherness seemed to be enough. “At a time like this, when it’s really heavy, it reminds us that we have some things to celebrate,” Kappes said. “I love it.”