14 Worst Side Dishes To Ever Bring To A BBQ

No event offers better diversity than a barbecue. Not only is there diversity among people, but there is also diversity of dishes. There are plenty of meats, desserts, drinks, and light bites, and I would be remiss not to mention the most important part of a barbecue table: the sides. You've got your barbecue classics — creamy potato salad, coleslaw, chips, mac and cheese, and baked beans — and more modern additions, like soba noodle salad, street corn, and cowboy caviar. While there are some excellent side dish options to bring to your next barbecue, there are also some foods that you may want to skip.

Now, I've been to a lot of barbecues in my life, and I am known for having very strong opinions about the merits and pitfalls of certain dishes, especially in the barbecue realm. Some of the dishes I included on this list are ones that you should avoid bringing to a cookout for food safety reasons (as we all know, mayonnaise and the scorching summer sun tend not to mix well), while others are too niche or controversial or simply can't be trusted in inexperienced hands. Of course, these are all based on personal opinion, so if you have a critically acclaimed potato salad recipe, by all means, bring it to the next cookout you're invited to — just don't be surprised when someone says that it's under-seasoned. 

I'm going to make one thing abundantly clear: If I go to a party where someone is serving ambrosia salad, I'm packing up and leaving. I don't care whose grandmother's recipe it is. This absolutely disgusting concoction of canned mandarin oranges, maraschino cherries, pineapple chunks, marshmallow creme, Cool Whip, mayonnaise (as if it could get any worse), and, quite literally, everything under the kitchen sink is simply not fit for human consumption. And, like many of the side dishes on this list, this is one that only gets worse after it's allowed to sit out in the sun for several hours, causing the bowl's contents to turn into a sugary slop fit only for the trash can.

Not only should you avoid bringing anything ambrosia to your barbecue, but you should also skip anything remotely ambrosia-adjacent. This includes Watergate salad (which has nothing to do with the Watergate scandal but is a scandal in itself) and any sort of Jell-O fluff salad. Please leave all your nasty, vintage salads in the past and bring literally anything else to your barbecue.

God knows I love my slow cooker. Seriously, how wonderful is it to toss a whole bunch of things into it, plug it in, and set it and forget it until dinner time? It also makes entertaining a whole lot easier, as all you need to do is assemble your dish beforehand, arrive at the event, and plug it back in to ensure that it stays at a safe temperature.

However, bringing a slow cooker to a barbecue, particularly an outdoor one, shows a lack of planning and foresight. You're now making it the host's obligation to find you a spot for your slow cooker, and you may be vying with everyone else who had a similar, just as poorly planned idea. If you didn't bring an extension cord (which is like offering to bring ice cream to a children's birthday party without a utensil to scoop it with), you would have been better off packing your baked beans into a less cumbersome dish.

Now, there are several ways to keep your food at the right temperature, including chafing dishes and warming mats. Just please don't pack up every small appliance you own and take it to a barbecue.

Your definition of well-seasoned potato salad and my definition of well-seasoned potato salad are probably very different — which is the primary reason I'm ruling this popular salad a no-go for barbecues. It's a classic, and when well-done, an old-fashioned potato salad can be a triumph. But the chance of a guest making a well-done potato salad is slim to none. Do you add odd ingredients to yours? (Eggs don't deserve a place in potato salad. Sue me.) Do you add three jars' worth of mayonnaise? Do you use the right kind of potatoes? If we do not share the same philosophy on these three factors (among others), please do not bring your potato salad to my barbecue. And no one wants to be the owner of the potato salad — or any side, really — that no one eats. Why run that risk? 

At its best, potato salad is forgettable compared to other sides. If you're making some sort of fun spin on potato salad, like skipping the mayo and loading it up with fresh herbs, like in this potato salad recipe, I will allow it. But I would much rather see a well-balanced pasta or macaroni salad instead of this spud-filled nightmare. Aside from my distrust in everyone's potato salad-making capabilities, a mayonnaise- or dairy-based dressing shouldn't be kept out for long, especially on a hot day. There are very few reasons to serve it at a barbecue.

I say this as someone who has a penchant for little shrimps on the rim of a bowl of cocktail sauce: This side just doesn't belong at a barbecue. On the one hand, I get its appeal: it's novel, it's sophisticated, and it shows that you really went the extra mile after excitedly RSVPing to the neighborhood barbecue. But it just isn't the right fit for an outdoor barbecue, especially one where you don't have access to ice or a fridge.

These tiny bites lose their appeal after they've been sitting out in the sun for who knows how long. A lot of people serve the shrimp on ice, both for visual presentation and to keep them below the temperature danger zone. As with many foods on this list, once shrimp reach temperatures above 40 degrees Fahrenheit for extended periods, bacteria multiply and can make you sick. Aside from the obvious safety risk here, room-temperature shrimp cocktail just isn't good, and it's not something that a copious amount of cocktail sauce can cover up.

Now, there are probably some die-hard coleslaw fans just sharpening their pitchforks as they read this, but as someone who doesn't really get along well with cabbage, I can firmly say that coleslaw is on my list of "no thanks" foods at barbecues. And even if I didn't mind the sulfuric taste of this fiber-rich veggie, I doubt coleslaw would still be on my list of favorites — mostly for a similar reason as potato salad: It's a really hard dish to make well, and I don't trust other people's version of "good coleslaw."

Even the coleslaw fans and I can find common ground on how much mayo is too much mayo in a coleslaw (seriously, if you pick up the coleslaw and it's practically dripping mayo, you've gone past the point of no return). But aside from that, there's also the seasonings, the vinegar, and even the texture of the vegetables to contend with. If even one of these factors is off, the slaw is a no-go. Compounded with the fact that creamy dressings and heat don't mix, you are just setting yourself up for a disaster if you bring coleslaw to a barbecue.

I have never heard anyone ever say, "Oh man, you know what I'm really craving right now? A bean salad." I get that dense bean salads had their time in the spotlight, and we would all be better off eating more fiber and beans. But at a barbecue, please let me enjoy my hot dog and chips in peace, without the "You should really be eating more fiber" speech nagging at my ear.

Now, I'm not saying that bean salad shouldn't be included on this list because it's "too healthy." I'm saying it because it's just not appropriate for a barbecue. Bean salads are heavy, and the point of a barbecue is being able to graze, grabbing a handful of chips while passing by the snack table, and leisurely eating barbecued meat surrounded by good company. If I'm filling up on bean salad, where am I going to put the rest? This dish also seems like the obligatory one people bring to barbecues because they know there is going to be a vegan present (as someone who spent much of their early adult life as one, I would know). I can jive with beans in small doses, like in a chilled soba salad or in baked beans, but bean salad is just overdoing it in every way possible.

The way you feel about green salads at a barbecue will likely depend on how adventurous an eater you are. Green salads are safe, predictable, and, dare I say, boring. After all, there is a reason why they usually pale in comparison to the rest of the meal at a restaurant. For some people, boring is fine. But if I get a bowl of wilted mixed greens with a few errant pieces of cucumber, red onion, and grape tomatoes, I'll be disappointed.

Aside from the fact that these salads lack character, one of the last things I want to eat at a barbecue is lettuce that's been sitting out in the sun for hours. Leafy vegetables pose a serious health risk if they're improperly stored, and I don't know if I put much faith in Aunt Lisa to keep her romaine at the proper temperature. Plus, if the salad is pre-dressed, it likely won't retain its crispness for long.

When the Wiggles sang, "Fruit salad, yummy, yummy," I doubt they were talking about fruit salad that had been sitting and marinating in the sun for hours at a barbecue. When it's done well, fruit salad and pre-cut fruit (like the kind sold on a store-bought fruit tray) can be fiber-rich, refreshing, and just what the doctor ordered on a sweltering August day. But when the watermelon tastes like pineapple, and the grapes have lost their firmness, you too may be singing a different tune than "yummy yummy."

I would also be remiss not to mention that cut fruit is a food safety nightmare and a half. Melons, specifically, are among the riskiest foods to eat because pathogens can accumulate on their rind, and when you slice into them, you inadvertently transfer those pathogens into the ready-to-eat fruit (as if cutting watermelon wasn't hard enough!). Refrigeration might keep these pathogens at bay, but that's not a given at an outdoor barbecue.

Baked beans are not inherently a bad barbecue food. I do like them a lot, in fact, as they offer a compelling medley of sweet, salty, and savory flavors. However, I am against baked beans that come straight from a can. While some brands of canned baked beans are better than others, as a whole, these beans are soupy, often too salty, and carry the taste of the tin can they're packed in. Plus, if you're serving them in a slow cooker, you'll run into one of the aforementioned issues noted here: not having a place to plug them in and keep them warm.

You can doctor up canned beans to make it look like you tried putting effort into your recipe, like with a tangy barbecue sauce or bacon and onions. But if you really want to show your fellow barbecue-goers you actually take this side dish seriously, bite the bullet and just make it yourself. 

Make no mistake: This is not a hit piece on deviled eggs. I love them as a casual appetizer, especially when they are filled super high with plenty of creamy, yolky filling (which also proves I am not, in fact, a mayo hater). But when I have a hot dog or a non-alcoholic beer in one hand, the last thing I want to eat, especially on a hot summer afternoon, is a deviled egg that's been sitting out for hours. I find that hard-boiled eggs tend to sweat when the mercury rises, which makes biting into the squidgy white unpleasant. Compound that with a filling that becomes even more watery with heat and humidity, and you have a recipe for disaster. 

Plus, it should come as no surprise that you can't trust people to make good deviled eggs. Maybe I just have trust issues, but I've been let down by too many deviled eggs in my life to trust cousin Diane with whatever she thinks is an appropriate amount of mustard.

Dips, depending on what you eat them with, could be considered a side. After all, a barbecue is mostly just people grazing for hours on whatever snacks, light bites, and sides they can find before the main protein is ready to be served. So in that respect, bringing a supportive dip is a great idea. However, if you bring a dip that needs to be kept at temperature to taste good, you could be setting yourself up for failure.

Buffalo chicken dip, for example, can be eaten cold, but by the time you get to it, the cheese may have hardened, and the texture becomes a bit too gloopy for one's liking. The same can be said about spinach artichoke dip, which, in my eyes, is really only good when it's piping hot and served with copious amounts of bread and crackers. Like other foods on this list, this is one where we run into the slow cooker dilemma. Luckily, there are many other dips worth bringing to a barbecue that are not as temperature-sensitive. Safer options include cowboy caviar and salsa, both of which happen to be universal favorites and excellent pairings for a variety of other barbecue dishes.  

Someone, somewhere out there, is eating mashed potatoes at a barbecue. If you find them, you need to rescue them. It should go without saying that any side you'd normally serve with Thanksgiving is not one to serve during the depths of summer. This includes conventional mashed potatoes, as well as mashed sweet potatoes and, perhaps, the most disgusting of them all, sweet potato casserole. These sides are simply too heavy for a July day, and even though they may mesh well with certain meats, like spare ribs, brisket, or pulled pork, they're not ones that are really fit for an outdoor barbecue. Just close your eyes and envision lukewarm, claggy mashed potatoes and you'll know what I mean. 

If you're going to serve something spud-adjacent, stick to baked potatoes (which are honestly a pain to make and serve, but they're still more barbecue-friendly than mashed potatoes) or cubed roasted potatoes. Or, yes, potato salad. Well-made potato salad, that is. 

Now, before you sharpen those pitchforks again: Hot dog chili is excluded here. I'm talking about the idea of someone cooking up a whole crock of bean-filled, meaty chili, topping it with cheese, and serving it at a barbecue. As with the mashed potato idea, any dish that's best eaten in the fall and winter probably isn't one you'll want to serve or bring to a barbecue. Chili is spicy, dense, and heavy, and when you factor in that you'll need to build out a topping bar and find some way to keep the chili warm, it'll just seem more and more impractical. 

Another factor that makes chili a bad fit for a barbecue is that everyone's definition of good chili varies, so there's bound to be some bad blood at a barbecue when someone decides that they are firmly in the no beans camp, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.

When I was assembling this list, I tried to purposefully exclude foods perceived as "lazy," as that calls into question equity and access. However, unlike a cheap, easily accessible box of Kraft mac and cheese or a bag of chips, deli salads are probably more expensive to buy in the store than to make yourself. And usually, said deli salad isn't very good. 

I have a feeling that when delis make their salads — like chicken salad, potato salad, macaroni salad, and the like — they try to make them as inoffensively as possible. Read: They don't season anything. These salads are usually rife with mayonnaise and lack any texture, which makes them unpleasant to eat. Sure, you can doctor them up with some chopped celery or a sprinkle of paprika, but this blurs the line between store-bought and homemade. And at that point, you might just want to bite the bullet and customize this recipe yourself so you won't be the talk of the barbecue (and not in a good way).