Last weekend we also celebrated this. Our first weekend here was the 7th annual. It was literally our first day in the house. The day all of our stuff came from California and my two worlds alarmingly collided. Neighbors, so sweet, kept inviting us. I was up to my ears in tears and boxes, and I worried that we wouldn't have anything bring. Mostly I was scared and shy and just wanted to see what my dining room table looked like in our new dining room. I think Neel and Callum wandered down.
I feel more settled in now. Ready to party.
That's Bud and his wife Jeanette. Bud is the founder of the Pig Pick'n. He had a stroke a few weeks ago and called from the hospital worried about who was going to pick up the pig.
You bring your own beer (or wine), you bring your own chair and you bring a dish to share. It's the very best of potluck food. Deviled eggs, potato salad, black bean and corn salsa, mac and cheese. Plate after plate of everyone bringing out their church supper best. The fans keep the flies off.
As important as the sides are (and the beer), it really is all about the pig. Southerners take their bar-b-que very seriously, I'm sure you know. You can handle this one of two ways. Fill your plate with sides and eat them while you stand in line for bar-b-que, or fill your plate with sides, eat them and wait for the line to die down and then get your bar-b-que. That's what I did. Growing up in Tennessee, I had a Memphis style bar-b-que. While the sauce here is not different, the idea of the slaw on your sandwich is new to me. I like it.
The block we block off for the party is one of my favorite in the neighborhood, and I love this little pergola-ed nook. Neel, can we get one of these, please?
Kids run and play and near the end of the evening the MC stands up and introduces all the new neighbors. He thanks Bud and talks about how long the neighborhood has been doing this, including the hard, hard year after September 11, and how close the competition was this year for the winner of the Newest Neighbor Platter. Almost a dead heat, folks, it was that close. The kids get bored and want to get back to their hop scotch or football and the grownups pop open another beer. Yeah, I guess I'm big on the pig.