A perfect day for barbeque — but then again, is there ever a bad time?

The food was so good, probably no one noticed the flowers. They were pretty, though.

Okay, so maybe it might have been a little more perfect a day for barbecue if I hadn’t had to shimmy into a slinky dress approximately 4 hours later, but who’s complaining?  I would have worn my mom’s sofa slipcover if it’d meant a couple more bites.

As it was, my dress merely had to have its laces loosened — a convenient (though I believe the original intent was more sexiness than user friendliness) dressmaking detail that made me feel like the anti-Scarlett O’Hara.  I felt Mammy turning in her grave.

My eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach -- but I made a valiant effort. You'd have been proud.

But, boy, was it worth it.  A whole barbequed pig which had been slow-cooked and smoked over a smoldering fire in a grill approximately the size of a Smartcar for over 20 hours with a bourbon and sorghum BBQ sauce (among others), 4 kinds of fried chicken (regular, buttermilk and cornmeal crust, battered and spiced, and somethin’ else — I’m gettin’ a drawl just thinkin’ about it), cheddar biscuits which were moist and light and fluffy and possibly more cheese than biscuit, the most amazing pot of baked beans — rich and hearty, flavorful and sweetened with sorghum, (whatever that is — no matter, it’s delicious), and a gorgeous golden and red beet and strawberry salad, as well as roasted asparagus, which was studded all over with nubbins of thick-cut, smoky bacon, bits of boiled egg and drizzled generously with a creamy lemon vinaigrette.

The meat slipped from the bones as easily as a dressing gown from Blanche DuBois' back. But way tastier, and sexier to boot.

Buttermilk and cornmeal crusted drumsticks

The beet and strawberry salad -- isn't it beautiful?

Cheddar biscuits. Amazing -- I'll be dreaming about these.

I LOVED these beans -- went back for a huge serving of seconds. I have these to thank for my dress staying up later that evening.

The bar was serving lemonade and sweet iced tea, as well as mint juleps, all in Ball’s canning jars.  Talk about southern charm.  The bourbon probably helped, too.

Ball's canning jars, mint juleps and hay bales -- southern hospitality. Although, not sure what the hay bales are for.

Dessert was dense, chewy, moist chocolate chip cookies as well as banana cupcakes topped with, get this, fluffy clouds of marshmallow frosting.  Like a mouthful of heaven if heaven could be caramelized.

These were pretty deadly. I actually ate one without realizing how it happened. One second it was there, on my plate, and then, it wasn't. I'm hoping a horse came along and nipped it off my plate when I wasn't looking.

Marshmallow frosting. That's just poetry.

Some more shots of a perfect day.

It was a gorgeous day.

Look at the friends with their arms around each other to the left -- so nice!

It looks idyllic from a distance, but secretly, all these people are wondering how they're going to fit into their gowns and tuxes.