Wednesday, September 3, 2014
One of my favorite things about visiting family in Vermont is the way people fall into a rhythm of preparing and eating food together. There's something magical about how the ritual seems to enable quiet conversation while hands busy themselves with chopping, shredding and mixing ingredients, everyone loosely working towards a common goal.
My mother has always kept a rather healthy, varied garden. You might try to explain this farm-to-table trend to her by saying, "You know, what you've always done." Every Labor Day, she prepares a feast consisting of tomatoes, carrots, onions and potatoes from her garden. And dessert consists of some baked dish including her blueberries or apples from the neighbor's tree -- because he doesn't pick them, and that's not stealing, is it? I love the experimental nature of it all. If you have too many zucchinis, they just might end up in your morning pancakes.