Our friends got married this weekend. It was days filled with joy, much laughter, and good food.
There were games on the front lawn (an obscure one from Sweden called Kube and ladderball, which was addictive), bicycle rides, walks to the beach, conversations on the porch, and naps. (Oh, naps.) This was a social, voluble crowd. No one ever lacked for something to do.
However, it's not really a surprise to me and Danny that most people spent the majority of their time in the kitchen. It's where we all gathered.
The first afternoon we arrived, we found a friend of our friends, talking and laughing while she carved this pork loin she had rubbed with wonderful spices and thrown on the barbecue. We became friends immediately.
(And that loin lasted for days. I found myself nibbling on it over the course of the entire weekend.)
The day before the wedding, a group of friends made a giant brunch for everyone who had arrived by that time. These sausages sure tasted good in the morning.
And later that day, the entire island of the kitchen was covered with dozens of different cheeses, some dips, and salami, mortadella, and prosciutto.
This fueled a lot of dancing that night.
Of course, there was far more food at our friends' wedding than pork. There were cakes and ice cream and root beer and pitchers of margaritas and French toast and bowls full of fruit, to name a few. We ate well.
But for me, in particular, the presence of the pork loin, the sausages, and the mortadella those days were a comfort. Many of the great foods at the wedding were made from gluten. In a sea of pancakes and crackers, my choices looked slim. With a few exceptions, however, good pork products are always gluten-free. I have something to eat.
So did the rest of us. The center piece of the wedding dinner were juicy grilled pork shoulders.
We have good friends.