Yesterday was day 2 of my 3 day weekend and I had almost no plans, and yet, I find that these are the kinds of days that fill up so quickly. I had a scheduled dental appointment and had arranged for my friend Yannick to come along in case they gave me laughing gas and I needed a designated driver; the procedure wound up being fast and gas-free, so we found ourselves with no agenda.
"Have you ever been to
Taft Farm?" I asked.
"NO?! Than we MUST go get doughnuts and cider...and birch beer!" (I must point out that when I have particular cravings, I MUST have that thing RIGHT THEN!--it was one of
those mornings...I was feeling a little cavity-free giddiness).
So we found ourselves at the lovely Taft Farm, oggling the squash being carried outside in huge crates; eyeing the cherry tomatoes; marveling at the many local products. We left with two birch beers, two doughnuts, a bag of beets and frozen portabella mushroom/carmelized onion ravioli for me and a little box of tomatoes for Yannick.
"Have you ever been to
Berkshire Mountain Bakery?" I asked as soon as we got into the car,
"NO!? Then we HAVE to go get some bread!"
Ten minutes later Yannick and I could be found standing on a bridge in little downtown Housatonic, watching the river pass underfoot and feasting on our makeshift lunch: kalmata olive bread with cherry tomatoes whose guts we squeezed out and onto the bread (and all over ourselves) before tearing the tomatoes in half and placing them on the bread, chocolate ciabatta bread, cinnamon and sugar coated doughnuts, birch beer and coffee. It sounds horrible, but it was amazing. Maybe it was because it finally felt like fall, cold morning air, wear sweaters and jeans and shiver a little weather. Maybe it was because the sun was shining diamonds onto the water below. Maybe it was because we were in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was because all those things put together made me feel so alive and youthful, whatever it was, in its simplest terms, I was sharing this very impromptu meal with a friend who was enjoying it as much as me.
It was wonderful and it was filling and we drove home full and happy.
And it was the memory of that meal that sustained me later when I was bent over my squash, peppers, tomatoes and tomatillos for over an hour, picking as many as I could, trying to salvage as much as possible before last nights' projected frost; as my fingers flew over the plants as fast as I could manage, I smiled and dreamed of those still warm doughnuts.
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| The late afternoon sun shining down of the remains of our gardens. |
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| My cosmos in all of their September glory. |
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| Cosmos. |
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| I can just hear Grover shouting, "FAR!" |
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| And now Grover shouts, "NEAR!" |
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| My pathetic squash crop--I only harvest 4 and they were fairly flavorless upon roasting. |
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| Tomatoes |
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| More tomatoes, plus peppers, plus three flats of tomatillos equals SALSA! |
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