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Family, Friends and Roasted Dill Potatoes

I can’t stop smiling when I think about this past weekend. My heart is fairly bursting with memories of dear friends, beloved family and great food.

Friday night I drove down to Seattle and had absolutely fantastic bbq and happy catching-up with long-time friends from California.

Saturday and Sunday I got to spend with my oh-so-fabulous brother Dana and sis-in-law Rachel. We talked for hours tucked up all cozy in our favorite spots on couches and chairs, laughing ourselves sick, sharing a tear now and then, and parting dearer friends than ever.

And tonight I got to celebrate the visit of my friend Darren’s parents with a bbq par excellence.

The sun was shining gloriously as we sipped Moldavian wine on the deck and munched our way through one delicious thing after another.

We started with Jon’s chunky guacamole piled high on salty tortilla chips.

He was clearly in an appetizer frame of mind, for he then served us grilled salt and vinegar potato slices topped with chorizo, cheese and fresh cilantro. Yowsers!! Those were tasty little bites!

Darren grilled up steaks and sizzling bratwursts and we ate them with….

…my roasted dill potatoes and….

…and Selwyn’s smoky grilled asparagus.

After our splendid dinner settled, we dug into bowls of Darren’s Pina Colada ice cream made with coconut milk and fresh pineapple topped with dark rum.

It was a glorious end to a splendid weekend with people I love.

What is your favorite memory from your weekend?

This is my contribution to Chayas’s Meatless Mondays.

Krista’s Roasted Dill Potatoes


6 Yukon Gold potatoes, washed, dried and diced

1-2 Tbsp dried dill weed

4 cloves garlic, halved and sliced thinly

1/4 cup olive oil

salt and pepper


  1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F
  2. Toss all ingredients in glass bowl and mix well.
  3. Pour onto baking sheet and shake to distribute evenly.
  4. Bake 20 minutes, stirring halfway through, or until potatoes are browned and crispy, but not burnt.
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Dennis and Terry Wright - We had a terrifictime, and enjoyed such delicious food krista. Pleased to meet you.

Joanne - Sounds like an awesome weekend filled with tons of celebration, family and friends! The best kind ๐Ÿ˜›

I’ve become obsessed with dill recently…I need to try this potato salad!

Sarah, Maison Cupcake - Those potatoes look divine… I have dill growing in my garden at the moment but it’s gone a bit crazy!

Lorraine @ Not Quite Nigella - I’m always so happy for you when I hear you’ve had a good weekend Krista! And thankyou for sharing this recipe. I’m crazy about dill with potatoes (and fish)! ๐Ÿ™‚

kris - Now that is a feast!

Velva - These are just the kind of weekends that I enjoy filled with friends, family and food. The photos are stunning. Love it!

btw, thanks for commenting on my leap to Twitter. Your comment about keeping it real and being generous was really sound advice. I will remember that.

Lazaro - Awesome post. Your photos truly jump off the screen. Great food spread. However, the roasted dill potatoes look…well perfectly roasted. Bravo!

RamblingTart - I LOVE dill, Duchess! ๐Ÿ™‚ Your salad with dill looks fantastic too. Yum!!

RamblingTart - Thank you, dear Elra. ๐Ÿ™‚ Sometimes simple is the perfect thing. ๐Ÿ™‚

RamblingTart - LOVE your story, Raph! ๐Ÿ™‚ Can just picture Evan humming away in the back while you and Jo are laughing, talking and flying. What a great weekend. ๐Ÿ™‚

Duchess - is there anymore wonderful combo than potato and dill? Well cucumber and dill…

elra - Simple meal always look stunning on your hand.

Tweets that mention Family, Friends and Roasted Dill Potatoes ยป Rambling Tart -- Topsy.com - […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by The Travel Belles, Krista Bjorn. Krista Bjorn said: {new blog post} Family, Friends and Roasted Dill Potatoes https://www.ramblingtart.com/2010/07/19/family-friends-and-roasted-dill-potatoes/ […]

Raphael Neff - Fabulous weekend Krista! The photos make the food seem wonderfully appetizing even though it’s currently well before breakfast time this morning.

This past weekend, Joanna and I took Evan and a friend from church, Jen flying to Orcas Island.

I knew it would be a perfect evening for Jen’s second time flying in a small plane, and Joanna was more than eager to take Evan again.

So I drove to Bellingham airport, readied the plane, and a fellow-pilot who just arrived back from some solo practice flights confirmed the air extra smooth.

After a short flight to Lynden airport, where Jo, Evan, and Jen had walked to meet up, I landed there, and were soon off to Orcas Island.

It is always fun to see the area through the eyes of someone that has not yet taken in the beauty of the northwest from a vantage point so unique.

(My cat friend is interrupting this story on the patio. I don’t know his name, or from which parts he hails, but he’s a big black kitty that says hi some early mornings as he checks on the state of the neighborhood)

Well, we flew over the water enjoying the sunset, islands, boats below, coastlines, and spotting fellow airmen and women.

Joanna has learned a lot of terminology and understands more of what is being said on the radio. This time she took in the new concept that airplanes are often identified by their model not just their make, which helps other pilots estimate their approximate speed (if you know what it is of course).

For example, just like a make and model of car is Ford Focus or Hyundai Sonata, planes are called Cessna Skyhawk, Skylane, Skymaster, or Jo’s favorite on Saturday, “Skywagon”… “is that like a stationwagon”? ๐Ÿ™‚

The mooney we were flying is a “Ranger”. And that’s not even getting into model numbers.

Enough Jargon.

We heard another airplane 8 miles from Orcas Island’s “Eastsound” airport calling 8 miles out as well, and couldn’t spot him for a couple more miles. Since we were faster he let us go ahead, and enter the pattern for landing.

As we past a mile north of Mt. Constitution and the large island ridge below it’s peak, there were a few bumps in the air as expected, since the northerly flow of air would be disrupted by that mountain.

But it was wonderfully smooth again as we approached the runway, descending over the water, some boaters, the coastline, and then the runway.

We parked at the south end, near the town-facing gate, all told just over 20 minutes from starting in Lynden.

Debarking for a quick stroll through a very densely vegetated public path that leads through backyards, small apartment complexes and many places of foliage, we broke out after roughly 10 minutes to the small town of Eastsound.

Jen said it looked like a small village, and indeed so, the first shop, rather convenience store we stumbled upon, was the “Village Stop”, well named because at 9pm it was only one of the three places we found open for business.

We rounded the corner to the right, now heading south again, onto a semi-main street. A couple strolled along, a mom and daughter biked the opposite way, and a random big dog in the middle of the street jumped into a welcoming open car door as if it was a taxi.

Jo craved coffee so we continued on looking for a Starbucks (a Cruisin coffee would have been acceptable too), but there was none such place.

We did find “Vern’s” however that was dark, ocean-goer-friendly, bi-level, and decorated inside with islander’s stuff, namely beach signs, life-preservers, and other knick-knacks.

Poking our heads around the corner further revealed a rather inviting, but dark restaurant overlooking the “bay” called Eastsound.

I commented that when we had more time this was definitely a “come back here” sort of place. I always have to find out how good a joint’s burgers and bbq sauce are, nevermind that their specialty is all fishy stuff.

The lone bathroom was down in the hold, I mean the dark bar. Of course the door handle did not work, but there was a sliding latch.

We walked out with a lid-less $2 coffee from the bartender, who scrounged that cup from upstairs.

Jen, Jo, Evan, and I then started our walk balk, across the quiet main street, and back up the road we came, this time taken the road back instead of the path.

Not a few minutes later, a red convertible with two middleage-ish women slows to ask us a question.

“Have you seen a big red dog”? Jen and Jo break out laughing…. and I saw sure, we saw a big tan dog jump into a small green suv like car. There was another dog in the passenger seat already.

“Ok, great” they said, “that must be her…..” Apparently the dog was picked up by good people, not the pound. (I doubt there is such a thing there)

We finished the walk back to the airport, sipping a quickly cooling coffee (no lid). Those are hard to drink while walking!

Evan was delightfully agreeable the whole time, and cutely humming now and then.

Down the last hill, we re-entered the airport property, boarded the plane again, and left for home as the sun set.

In another brief flight Jen now took in the many lights at dusk, and the amazing view, including a dwindling, barely visible Mt Baker.

The only activity at Bellingham as we approached was an Allegiant jet “flexing his wings”, rather doing engine checks next to the runway, for an unknown reason. The controller found it expedient to caution for “wake turbulence”, which normally means the “jetstream” so to speak of turbulence caused by disrupted airflow when following another aircraft (it can be violent), but in this case he was referring to “jet blast”, the air from the engines themselves.

We landed, parted the runway to park, and taxied to a halt. Jen was surprised that airplanes can be pushed by hand when I said there was no way to “back up”, so I would have to push it back into the parking spot.

The four of us debarked and drove home that night, agreeing the whole evening experience was very enjoyable.

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