The high (65) and low (49) have begun to feel like a prelude to summer. We have been lucky thus far to receive a real winter and spring season. I have no doubt we'll get a full dose of summer, though thank goodness the full brunt of a Tennessee scorcher gets sanded down above 6,000 feet. I do hope for an extended autumn, as it's my favorite time of all.
This morning's sunrise looked plenty nice from my vantage point in the kitchen. It wasn't particularly ostentatious, certainly not the most striking I've seen this year. No, this morning's sunrise was workmanlike. You could look out and know that our guests who had risen early and hiked to Myrtle Point in the predawn hours were being rewarded for their effort. The colors were muted and reminded me of a layer cake or sand art that you made as a kid at camp. The birds were singing and the day still stood pregnant with possibility.
I mentioned the other day that I take over breakfast cooking duties when Chris is on days off. Caroline is our assistant cook and takes over lunch and supper preparation in Allyson's absence. We enjoy some fine eats up here, just like our guests (though our menu varies quite a bit).
Caroline has been taking good care of us while Allyson's gone--no weak trembles to be found. On Sunday the LeConte crew tradition is to have the best meal of the week for lunch and then we're on our own for supper (that tends to be a popular night for making mountain popcorn after our guest dinner service). That's fair because the Sunday lunch takes longer for the cook to prepare.
Caroline studied in Greece for a while, and imagined up the following menu for our Sunday feast. We enjoyed Greek salad, tzatziki, bread, spinach pie, skordalia, chicken kabobs followed by brown butter tart with blueberry topping for dessert. It was so terrible we all had seconds. Happy trails.