Yes, it’s true. It all started last week, when my kids headed back east with their grandparents for a little R&R. Or a candy-laden, amusement-park–bowling alley–movie watching-kind of week. Whatever. My husband and I headed to the nearby ski hill that night because we enjoy skiing in July. Nope, that’s not really why. I’m not that crazy, people! No, we headed north sans ski gear because in a moment of sheer genius, someone in charge of our local symphony decided years ago that people would pay good money to sit outside on the ski hill in the summer and listen to them play. And, man, were they on the money. We made the first trip ten years ago, and have only missed a couple of times. We’ve even roped our friends into paying good money, too.
- a bottle of Palazzo della torre wine (which rocked, by the way)
- prosciutto, kaseri cheese, and arugula sandwiches on rosemary ciabatta (made by me)
- a motherload of grapes
- english toffee cookies (not made by me)
- red licorice, cheese & crackers, and pretzel nuggets for the masses