©Abraham & Susan Rowe
©Abraham & Susan Rowe
©Abraham & Susan Rowe
©Abraham & Susan Rowe
©Abraham & Susan Rowe
Toward what end should gathering tend? We all know: to eat well, to dissolve & howl in aching fits of laughter, and to feel less alien, to find some silken strand that extends through the ether from our belly to the belly of another.
We’re reflected more accurately in the eyes of friends; we find grace for ourselves in their company. That’s the virtue of a good supper: to create an experience that gives grace, one that nourishes and restores your guests both physically & mentally, and it was towards this end that the Kinfolk camp cooking workshop Rebekka, Hannah, and I hosted in Nashville happily tended.
Two pretty girls sat out back shucking corn in gingham & lace, braids and a straw hat. Hot coals smoldered. Golden marrow pooled beside thick center cut bones on a screamingly hot tray over gray coals. The sunset flesh of peaches & figs caramelized on the grill, and we all surrendered our busy & took an evening to celebrate nothing but evenings, good food, fire, and each other.
We shared in all that late summer in Tennessee lavishes from heirloom purple okra to silver queen corn to green zebra tomatoes, cooked over an open fire, and ended up not only connected to each other but to generations of people who’ve done what we were doing before: telling our stories—our nonsense, secrets, heartache, and epiphanies—around the embers, being woven into the same tapestry under the aimless ashes and frightfully distant stars.
My name is Beth, Elizabeth Evelyn to be exact. A native Tennessean, I was born in the South.
I am the author behind Local Milk Blog.