First of all — what is OJ? OJ stands for October soJourn, due to a not-so-firm grasp of the English language. It is an annual pilgrimage to the woods, where anywhere from a dozen to twenty people gather to frolick, feast, and sometimes fornicate. Most often, though, a bunch of us rent a large farmhouse for a weekend, there is very little sex (well, that might be an overstatement), but heaps of food, music, and hugs. (Awww).
The big focus this year, due to the crappy weather, was the feast. Organized by Chef John, almost everyone played the role of sous/prep chef at some point during the day. The menu:
Doug made the desserts:
Needless to say, we were very happy. And very full.
Every year, no matter what other crap is going on in my life, OJ is one of those times where I am extremely thankful (warning — sap alert! stop reading if you begin to vomit). As I might have mentioned before, I have some amazing, giving, caring, trustworthy, generous, smart, funny, and talented friends. All of these qualities come out during OJ. We cook together, sing together, clean up together, laugh together, and still come back for more each year. It is always such a welcome respite from work, my shitty dates (or lack thereof), the grind of daily life in NYC, and whatever else is going on in the real world.
Thanks to my favorite people for yet another relaxing, fun, food, and love-filled OJ.
Word to your mother.
–Larenator
