Or do you call it dinner? The time of day doesn’t really matter. Any meal shared with loved ones will sustain you long after the last slice of pie is gone. That’s because a hearty Sunday spread is a tradition that connects us to each other and nourishes the spirit.
An heirloom dinner plate holds memories as well as food. Which is why Bob Page fills his legendary business in McLeansville with countless patterns of china and silver, serving bowls and stemware. Dish by dish, he’s bringing people together.
At a Colonial Revival mansion in Greensboro, the organizers of Community Table host a new kind of Sunday supper — one involving 13 chefs and twists on Southern cuisine like bacon-wrapped emu and collard-green kimchi.
When the furniture designers, buyers, and browsers who swarm the annual High Point Market want to escape the crowds, they head to the basement of First United Methodist Church, where the best lunch in town comes with a heaping helping of charm.
For a small gathering of parishioners with no immediate ties to the Charlotte area, an after-church breaking of bread reveals the richness of a new, extended family — and the gifts that grow out of it.
You get what you get and you don’t fuss a bit. That’s the golden rule at a home-cooked Sunday supper. But at a buffet, the meal is all about choice — turnip or mustard greens? Fried chicken or ham? Mac ’n’ cheese or macaroni salad? — even if you choose a little of everything. These four restaurants know that on Sunday, a full plate is a full heart.
For Chef John Fleer, a modern Sunday supper with family and friends is never on a Sunday. That’s when he’s cooking for customers. But the day itself isn’t the point: It’s the talk around the table that really feeds us.
Our writer returns to the scene of his youthful side job: guiding rafts filled with neophytes through the man-made currents of the U.S. National Whitewater Center near Charlotte. But this unique center has evolved over the past decade — and so has our writer.
The Native Americans of Robeson County are strong and proud, but their history is marked by the struggle to overcome bias. In the 1950s, a watershed moment brings national attention to the Lumbee Tribe.