This week I’ll be making the trek to a family reunion in Minnesota. I’ve been looking forward to it for months, though it’ll be tinged with some sadness since my Grandma’s health may be declining after a hip fracture this month. We’ve always been a pretty jovial group though, so I’m hoping to show her a bit of the good old family merriment.
When I graduated from college a few years ago it became quickly apparent how difficult it was to keep in touch with friends as we all entered this crazy new phase of our lives. Moving to suburbs with no car of my own and a brand new 9-5 type job meant getting creative about finding ways to maintain these friendships.
Enter the weekly potluck dinner parties at my house! Complete with wine and beer, fun themed nights, and more laughter than I can recount. These dinner parties were the building blocks of my love for cooking, too. By the time I finished school, I was incapable of making boxed cake mix to save my life. (Side note: If you ever accidentally add twice as much vegetable oil to your Betty Crocker batter than what the recipe calls for, turn back now. It’s truly more gross than you could have ever imagined.)