After my incredible afternoon touring the farm, I was invited by the Southern Food Writing Conference to attend a champagne reception in the garden, followed by a lavish dinner in the barn. It was in conjunction with the International Biscuit Festival, and the guests were there to celebrate, and dine on, authentic and inspired Southern cuisine.
There was a bluegrass band plucking away at tunes that made you feel as though you’ve lived there your entire life. And that maybe Tennessee is where you were meant to be born.
The elegant hors d’oeuvres and icy cold champagne were served by their excellent wait staff….
And those freshly picked radishes from earlier in the day, made their appearance on a slate tray. I loved the presentation and will be sure to recreate something similar at home using butter and dijon, topping them with sea salt flakes.
After the champagne reception, we walked up to the barn for our dinner…
Please excuse the quality of the following photos, I shot the remaining ones with my cell phone, as to not distract from the dinner or intrude on the other guests enjoyment. Although looking back, I think everyone was snapping away.
When we first walked in, I admired this entry table. In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it and hope The Man will make one for me some day.
They have an amazing demonstration kitchen in one area of the barn for culinary classes.
We were seated in the central dining area, with towering vaulted ceilings and iron chandeliers. The tables were dressed in linen with a selection of wine glasses, beautiful china and flatware.
Let me know in the comments, if you’d like to know which wines were my favorite. We were served five. Although I didn’t get to drink them all, I made sure to taste them and take notes.
And I loved this wall filled with wine glasses from floor to ceiling. And the library ladder too. Really, everything about the place was impeccable. In fact, I’m still dreaming about the best shrimp and grits I’ve ever had…sublime!
All in all, it was the perfect day. From beginning to end.
And I can’t imagine ever forgetting a single moment.