An homage to the long leisurely weekends at our house with friends and family. Sunday was the day when we had to pack up and go back to our lives. But before this we gathered to soak up the last rays of sun and the lingering hum of each other’s company. There was no formal menu, only the delicious echoes of every feast that came before, a couple hunks of gorgeous cheese, the last bits of all the grains and salads, anything that touched the grill, and if we were lucky, some remaining slices of whatever decadence was baked that weekend. To look at your plate was to see the history of the last forty-eight hours, a messy, beautiful collision of every indulgence we’d shared: The This and That meal.