Not on the beach, mind you. We live in town. Sandwiched between the Cape Fear River
And Wrightsville Beach
Here's the thing. Sometimes we forget we live at the beach.
I know, right?
But after a while, we look up and say "Hey, it's September, and we've been to the beach twice since May. Or was it once?"
Then we say, "How about a beach picnic?"
So I put together something disgracefully simple. Like a chicken pasta salad.
I'll scrounge the last of the basil from the garden and chop it.
Chop some shallots
Saute them, of course.
Grill some chicken
Chop up some olives
And some other stuff, like cucumbers and maybe some cherry tomatoes or whatever is around
Mix up a little mediterranean dressing and throw the whole lot together with some cooked pasta and some feta cheese.
Then pack it up and get in the car and drive fifteen whole minutes.
And set up our chairs and get some sand on our feet
And watch the ocean
And eat dinner there. Where it's more about the view than the food. Because good lord, we live at the beach!
Sometimes we just forget.