I cannot BELIEVE it has taken me this long to tell you all about our Memorial Day barbecue! I also cannot believe that I have eaten since then. Without further ado...
Burrata Cheese with Olive Salsa, aka the easiest party trick known to humans. Whizz two kinds of olives and basil in the food processor, stir in olive oil, and if you manage to not just sit and go at it with a spoon, you sprinkle it over and around luscious burrata and amaze all your friends. I served it with store-bought Melba toasts, but by the end of the evening, we were all just going directly fork-to-mouth.

I have already made this
Cabbage + Lime Salad with Roasted Peanuts again since the barbecue. It's incredibly addictive. The only fussy thing about it is the need to salt the cabbage and let it sit for 2 hours. You could serve it raw, but I rather prefer the more wilted cabbage. If you're going to have a long prep day anyway (like most of our barbecues will), it's nothing to let it sit while you're doing other cooking, and by the time it's ready, you just whisk a couple dressing ingredients together and serve. I find it absolutely imperative to have the peanuts, but I didn't serve them together because one of our friends doesn't like nuts. Obviously, avoid your allergies, but I imagine toasted almonds, pine nuts and pepitas would also be great in the salad.

Unfortunately, not all barbecues can be perfect. This
Arugula Potato Salad was a last-minute addition to the menu because I am forever feeling like I don't have enough food to serve my guests regardless of the size of the menu I already have planned. And when I saw that photo, I swooned - it looked rich, creamy, and had dreamy green things like arugula and dill in it. I tasted it warm right after the first toss, and it really was rich, creamy and dreamy. And then I put it in the fridge as directed, and instead of the flavors melding, everything just congealed into flat, predictable potato salad. I felt the arugula became goopy and gross. That said, I'd happily make it again and just serve immediately.

And sadly, this barbecue came with, not one, but two, disappointments. I have to take the blame for the failure of this
Southern-Style Mac and Cheese, although I do have to say that there wasn't too much that seemed Southern about it. Not that I could claim to know, but a little dash of Worcestershire that can't be tasted in the final product along with some grated onions doesn't a Southern dish make. But hey, back to it being my fault: in the juggle of prepping the other dishes, I neglected to notice that the instructions only ask me to boil the pasta for 3 minutes. Rather, I cooked them to the point of doneness. And what happens when put completely cooked pasta in with all that cream and cheese is that none of the liquid gets properly absorbed, and you end up with extremely soupy pasta after the 30 minutes of baking time called for. So what do you do? You stir and pray. And put it back in the oven for another 30 minutes. And another. And another. And 2 hours later, something barely passable will make it out of the oven. It won't be cute, but it won't be cheese soup. You won't have leftovers, but you'll kick yourself the entire time that you didn't make the
Truffled Mac and Cheese that you had been eyeing.

But redemption comes in the form of a
Creamy Pineapple Pie with Brown Sugar Meringue. I die just looking at these photos. I want to make another one right now. And then I want to keep the whole thing for myself. And by the way, how cute does the pie look in my vintage Bauer pie plate? So. Cute.

I mean, it's the embodiment of summer. I don't normally like cooked pineapple (get away from me, Hawaiian pizza), but apparently if I puree it and make a curd out of it, I can't stop "testing" it. I thought my tiny vintage pie plate wouldn't hold all of the curd, and got excited about the prospect of having leftover curd to attack with a spoon, but sadly, the pie plate held every last drop.
And that meringue. Probably the most impressive meringue of my life. And while I could easily have had the filling in just the graham cracker crust (or on a graham cracker, for that matter), the meringue added this ethereal suggestion of brown sugar that tied the whole pie up perfectly. Brandon thought I had added booze to the meringue, that's how complex the brown sugar made it taste. I didn't, but if ever I needed an improvement for next time, there it is.