I’ve always loved Sundays. Back in Virginia, I used to get together with my friends nearly every single Sunday for food, sports, and general camaraderie (or drinkin’, if you want to get all technical). Well, in just a couple weeks, it’ll be six whole years since I left that sweet hometown of mine but I still love Sundays. Here’s a glimpse at how we do Sundays now.
I bought a new (to me) rug off a local yard sale sight, and while Guitar Dude ran to the store I swapped it out and changed the direction of the kitchen table 90 degrees. Guitar Dude doesn’t like people to move his cheese. When he walked in, I said (real proud of myself), “I changed the direction of the table. What do you think?” to which he replied, “It’s different.” and I knew there was hope.
I also swapped out the big rooster center piece (I like to keep it classy) on the kitchen table for this funky little bowl Guitar Dude bought me for my birthday on a trip to the Smoky Mountains last year. The pottery shop is right across the street from a place that serves the best breakfast in Pigeon Forge; The Old Mill. I highly recommend a visit to the restaurant followed by a stroll around the shops right around the restaurant. You’ll need to stretch your legs and let all that scrumptious food find a place to settle into. Sorry, got a little sidetracked… biscuits will do that to me.
Once Guitar Dude got back, I grabbed my camera and opened my first Sam Adams Oktoberfest beer of the season. God bless fall beers. They make my heart happy.
Properly hydrated and satisfied with the new arrangement of my kitchen, we got to cooking. We bought a Boston Butt at a local farmer’s market and were excited to smoke it to tender goodness. I know the neighbors have to hate us when Guitar Dude fires up the smoker because you know their suppers that night suck in comparison (sorry, neighbors). We’re in the post-smoke, pre-rest and pull phase here. Mmm mmm….
While Guitar Dude was finishing with the meat, I cooked up a mess of squash, zucchini, vidalias, and minced garlic.
Along with roasted corn on the cob, we ate like kings and queens on Sunday. Which is good because I forgot Sam Adams Oktoberfest has a slightly higher alcohol content. Heh…