T+Co Editorial

You’ll quickly learn one of my most fulfilling pastimes is planning a dinner party. Not a large gathering to just “feed folks” but one where the electricity among guests makes you smile to yourself the next day and memorable food leaves few leftovers. Every host knows empty plates mean satisfied guests.

I spend hours creating blueprints of meaningful menus that will hopefully engage and entertain everyone around the table. The goal is to design an atmosphere where everyone can relax and feel comfortable. And depart with a full stomach and spirit. This is the unspoken wealth my mother and grandmother passed down to me.

With Easter around the corner, I’ve been outlining my upcoming menu and am thrilled to share my table with you in the pages ahead.

Growing up in south Georgia, Easter was a momentous occasion with several must-do cultural customs. Number one: dress up in your Sunday best. Weeks before the holiday, every girl and mom would be on the lookout for the dernier cri spring dress and ahead-of-the-curve accessories. I fell in love with this tradition as a young girl and never let go. Then, around 1985, I became obsessed with matching designer satin purses and high heels. Maybe it was just a thing in The South?

Number two: go to church.

Number three: after church, attend the big family lunch and bring your legendary side dish. (Every Southern woman has one, after all.) Everyone looked forward to your signature dish. And yes, the grandmas and aunts would silently judge it. Lots of disclaimers were heard around the table, “Not as good as last year’s. It didn’t set right. It doesn’t look as pretty as I wished.” Let me tell y’all something; this is a must know of The South. Everyone at the table knew the side dishes were good, but false humility is, again, a thing of The South.

I’ve lived all over The South and had the privilege of traveling the world as a musician for two decades, celebrating Easters from Georgia to Germany to South Africa. But one place stands out. Nashville, Tennessee 2017. We had moved to a new neighborhood called ‘The Nations’ and forged purposeful engagement with our neighbors, literally living out, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” One couple, five doors down, were acquaintances from the music industry but we had not spent time together outside of work. In a short time, they became dear friends. We bonded over Friday Night Pizza, wine, and the Nashville Preds.

We decided to host an Easter lunch with our newfound friends and invite a couple more folks who couldn’t be with their families on the holiday weekend. We had no idea a new tradition was about to take root. Our Sunday lunch turned into a nine-hour Easter Feaster.

In this issue, you’ll meet our dear friend who was at that first Easter Feaster table and has since attended all our Treehouse events. You’ll love getting to know Sue Buchanan, author and speaker, who has supported the Treehouse since its inception in 2013. She’s the perfect guest, like someone straight out of Steel Magnolias. You almost expect her to blurt out, “The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize.” She brings her humor and delectable side dish, deviled eggs to this issue.

I love crafting new menus, but the guests around the table are genuinely the candied raspberries and whip cream on top of our easy-to-make flourless chocolate torte. They are the perfect ingredient to elevate the forgathering. Not all guests bring that enrichment. Sometimes you find yourself with a challenging attender. I have a few pointers that have worked when I have one rotten egg.

I’m sure there won’t be any rotten eggs in your lovely, Southern-designed Easter basket or on your table. Hoping it’s a lovely celebration, however large or small.

Sending lots of new life from our neck of the woods. Happy Spring!