Family, fiddles and food.

I love a mom. Lower case "m". Yes, of course, I love Mom, too, but I also just love a mom in general. I've found that about ninety percent of the time a mom knows how you're feeling, if something is off and makes you feel right at home. One the fourth grade teachers at my school is my "work mom", and I hope I can find a mom in a whole bunch of places life brings me in which my own Momma can't be. This is precisely why meeting someone else's mom, and their whole family, is a very special thing to me.

This endeavor brought me to Nashville, Tennessee for the first time to meet the DeArmond gang, Schaeffer's family. You always hear bits and pieces about a family throughout conversations and getting to know someone, but ain't nothin' like meetin' all y'all myself. A wedding in Nashville put the trip on the calendar, but meeting the family is certainly the reason we went.

Schaeffer and parents.

The weekend was full of hugs from the very beginning, sitting around the table together, dancing to dueling fiddles at "Robert's Western World", relaxing in front of movies on floors and couches and very reluctant goodbyes. It was pretty much the most wonderful family meeting circumstance ever. Hands down.

The second night of our trip I cooked a big family style meal for the gang. Luckily, I think it went pretty well. But, before we get to that, look at the garden Mrs. D has going. Utterly stunning, really. Maybe she'll teach me a thing or two about gardening. I need some help in that department.

Too beautiful to cut and put in a vase, me thinks.

Menu:

Butterflied Chicken with Cracked Spices (#121)

Mustard and Coriander Roasted Potatoes (#122)

Lemon-Buttered Broccoli (#123)

Salad with Champagne Vinaigrette

Lime Vanilla Tart with Blackberries and Blueberries (#124)

This was a menu of careful planning and ambitious cooking. Maybe, just maybe, I was working a little extra hard to impress my new Tennessean friends. I spent the afternoon cooking with Schaeffer and his sister, Meagan, and we had more than a laugh or two as we prepared the dessert, not once but twice, and as they watched me remove the back and breast bones from two chickens after watching a YouTube how-to video very closely.

Work on the tart was going so wonderfully, including Schaeffer using his (make shift) double broiler skills, I was juicing about a million limes, okay, only about eight limes and his sister was helping me locate a food processor. It was a real team effort. Just as I had the custard in the refrigerator, the butter and eggs creamed for the dough, I asked Meagan where I could find the salt. Puzzled, she pointed to the large container right next to me. "Haha Meagan. That's the sugar." no, indeed it was the salt. Giving myself a little smile and reaching for the fridge door to get the chilling custard to toss it into the trashcan. You know sometimes you have to roll with the punches. You know? So roll with them I did. And make a new everything too.

Then it was onto the chickens. Man were they fun! Nothing like getting your hands dirty with a little bone-removing action on two healthy looking roasters. N'est-ce pas?

I first cut out the back bone and then popped out the breast bone. No, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. But, that's where YouTube comes in beautifully. What on Earth did we do before the internet?

I rubbed these little fellas with a myriad of spices; coriander, cumin, paprika, fennel seeds and threw the pans under the broiler.

And this is what happened:

I know, right? Who'd have known butterflied roast chickens and the broiler could produce such delicious results? Try it and thank me later.

The chicken paired well with the mustard potatoes and the ever so slightly lemony broccoli. However, I must say, despite the dramatic kitchen preparations, I think it was dessert that was the main event of this meal.

Since I squeezed every drop of juice from the limes in the first go-round of cooking, and I hardly had time to make and chill the custard again, I nixed the limes for about a teaspoon of vanilla extract. Good news? It worked just fine.

All in all Tennessee really was special. An added bonus lesson learned? Always taste the salt and sugar. Looks, as we've learned before, can be deceiving.

I can hardly wait to get back down to Nashville to visit Misses, Mister, Sterling (brother), Meagan (sister) and Possum (brother-in-law), buy egg cartons with Bible verses and do-si-do around the dance floor again. I think this redhead from the Jersey Shore has a bit more Southern in there then she ever knew.  Thank you, DeArmonds, for such a wonderful and welcoming visit.

176 to go...

Oh, and I love a dad, too.