Some weekends are so full, so profuse, so abundant with goodness and friends and food and love that it takes a day or two to recover from them. Such was this weekend past. When you pack house guests (my little sister is all grown up, having just graduated college and starting naval flight school this Friday-what the what???), a birthday party, a wedding, and an anniversary into three evenings and two days, you get a lot of a lot. You know what I mean? Ooooo, whee! I’m tuckered out.
My right-hand-man, my man behind the curtain, my P.I.C. (that’s “partner in crime” for the uninitiated), my ever-generous, always thoughtful sweet Glenn began another orbit around the sun on Saturday. As we knew we’d be at the wedding of close friends for half the day that day, we opted to throw a southern foods potluck with a handful of close friends here on Friday evening. See that spread on the table above? That is the genius of the potluck, dear readers. You get a mess of delicious eats and you don’t have to be the one sullying the kitchen all by your lonesome in order to do so. Well, that is, unless you’re Glenn, who opted to make pulled pork, a cabbage & kale coleslaw, pimento cheese (with bacon!!!), and an appetizer that involved a tower of twice-baked sweet potatoes, raw Appalachian cheese, andouille sausage, and pineapple. I told him it was his birthday, but he insisted, and I didn’t resist. Cooking is one of his most beloved things to do, and the end result was completely worth the wrecked kitchen.
Saturday’s wedding of our friends Luke and Katrina was stunning. Set atop a mountain on her mother and step-father’s property in neighboring Marshall, the vistas were sweeping, the breeze gentle, and the mood light and loving. As an accent note to the remote, country setting, right when they kissed, a shotgun fired (although this wasn’t a true “shotgun” wedding, if you know what I mean). Oh, and the way to keep a toddler occupied at a wedding? Share an apple with him before the ceremony begins, and then send him off with his Papa to the back of the hill, where a tangle of honeysuckle blooms lie waiting to have nectar sucked from.
Sunday we celebrated our 6th anniversary. Those years have flown by. It feels like we were just on our honeymoon. Every day with this guy is a treasure. Our meal at the newly opened Seven Sows Bourbon & Larder was one for the ages. The head chef, Michael Moore, and Glenn had connected on Facebook, but never met in person. Michael was at the restaurant while we were there and stopped by our table to connect in person. He then very, very, VERY graciously sent us three dishes, his compliments. Seven courses later (!!!), we were packed with some of the most delicious eats to have ever passed my lips. I’ll write up an entire post about the restaurant, but in the mean time, trust me. Go there. You won’t be disappointed. Get the brussels sprouts, and then think about their supreme deliciousnesses for, oh, the rest of your life, and then linger over the perfection that is their butterscotch pudding. Michael and his kitchen know what they’re doing, and you should treat yourself to their skills.
Like I said, it was a weekend to remember, truly. It’s also a weekend to recover from, so, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go stretch my legs and amble around the property.
Here’s hoping the week ahead is filled with health, love, and happiness, from me and mine to you and yours.