Kurt and I regularly invite friends over for dinner on week nights. Right in the thick of our work week routine, these are like abbreviated bursts of energy that restore and motivate us until the weekend. I love carefully planning a tasty menu, something exciting and not too fussy like BBQ pulled pork tacos with a tangy cabbage slaw and crispy jalapenos! While I warm tortillas, one at a time on a cast iron skillet, the boys will walk across the street to Boone's (they have a remarkably good beer cave selection for a Marathon franchise) and return with beers from BBC or Dogfish Head. Then we'll pass little bowls of pickled red onions, cilantro and salsas around the table until our plates are a heaping confetti of deliciousness. The meal ends with conversations lasting late into the night. Everyone migrates to the living room floor and we don't say goodnight until we realize that Kurt has dozed off on the carpet and I'm gasping at the clock, wondering where the time went. These nights are so satisfying that we find ourselves reflexively responding to all gestures of "we should hang out" with invitations to dinner. Preferring these experiences over most nightlife, I can't really imagine a better way to spend my time.
The digital edition of issue one is available on the Kinfolk website. Below is an excerpt written by Nathan of HearBlack. These words in particular struck a chord with my inner hostess.