A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I slipped on my old, ratty baseball cap and got closer to the festival. Which was just an extension of the same field that had to be the biggest I’d ever seen. Miles of nothing but grass.

The festival area itself was fenced-off, but it didn’t stop people from having a good time outside the gates. Music poured out all over the place, several tailgates were dropped, and some had even brought camping grills.

Were they aware of the smoke billowing from countless food vendors two minutes away?

I lit up a smoke and patted the pockets of my jeans, making sure I had my ticket.

The festival was free to attend, though this lucky bastard had won a VIP ticket through August’s giveaway, granting me a goodie bag and better seating in the various dining areas.

I’d checked out the map of the festival online and was looking forward to exploring several of the nearly four hundred vendors.

Maybe I could even get a decent slice of pizza around here.

There was something about sunshine and the strong smell of barbecue that always brightened my mood.

Before I reached the gates, I finished my smoke and texted Nicky to let him know I was ready to eat my body weight in meat.

It was still early enough that I didn’t have to wait in line to get in, and I handed over the ticket August had set aside for me and was given a rubber wristband. I’d just show it at the entrance of each serving area, and I could pick up my goodie bag at the exit before I left today.

Before we got in our trucks earlier, August had mentioned that his flagship restaurant here in Nashville had donated promotional Parmesan knives to the VIP attendants that I would want to get my hands on. I didn’t even know Parmesan required its own knife, but I loved cheese, and I wouldn’t mind a special knife to slice it with.

In the wide entrance, I accepted a pamphlet from someone with “Volunteer” on her tee, and it turned out to be the map I’d already looked at online. But this was good. When Nicky and I brought Nonna and Pop to food festivals back home, Nonna always wanted a list at hand so she could circle the vendors she intended to visit.

“Fuck yeah,” I murmured to myself, scanning the map. Soon as the cooking class was over, I was gonna start with Texas Row. An entire section of the festival dedicated to food from the Lone Star State.

I wasn’t sure I should venture into the area called New York, New York, though. There were vendors selling Italian food—among the cuisines from other cultures, to represent the melting pot I’d grown up in—but unless the vendors actually came from New York, I was skeptical.