Toast and Jelly

I would like to tell you that I live in an old farmhouse located someplace in Vermont, southern Vermont to be more precise. The exact year it was built is uncertain, but we can find records dating back to the 1830’s. Most of the farm was sold off years ago, but we still have about 15 acres or so. About ½ of the acreage we lease to some local farmers who use it for hay.

We have a couple of old apple trees across the driveway. When we moved in we had to nurse them back, but they have started to produce some wonderful fruit. In the fall we have a weekend in which we invite our families up; we call it our “Cider Fest.” I spend a good solid week cooking and preparing for everyone’s arrival. Although the trees are producing, we still have to supplement the weekends activities with some apples from a local orchard. 

We have a couple of chickens in the yard that keeps us in fresh eggs although there is one particular hen that just plain old refuses to lay. She is the patriarch of the clutch keeping the other girls in line.

We have a garden in the backyard, that now pretty much encompasses most of the yard. When we first moved it was just a little plot of about 5 feet by 10 feet. I spend my days dependent upon the season, the weather and my deadlines.  I still keep all of the herbs close to the backyard, so when I am cooking and in need, I can just run out and cut some.

I have been waiting for that farmhouse and for Vermont, along with the lifestyle I imagine that would come along with it.  But my reality right now, and for the foreseeable future is a bit different.  I don’t live in Vermont.  I live in Central New Jersey, in the bottom floor of a two family house.  The house was probably built in the 30’s and retains some of the original charm.   Our house is separated from the houses next to us by a driveway and a sidewalk.  I like it and for now it is home, just as this area has been my home for a number of years.  The kitchen is very accommodating, and that is pretty much all I need.  And even though our home is in the center of town, it is surprisingly quiet.  The old floors squeak, and the windows are drafty, but that is part of the charm of living in an older home.   Friends and family come regularly, and we are grateful to have a dining room in which to host meals.  Last year, we had Christmas eve here with my family.

The backyard, besides having a gravel area large enough to hold four cars, has a patch of weeds and grass not much larger than a parking space.   There is a nice old tree over the patch of grass that provides much needed shade, and I have a lovely view of the neighbor’s deck and asphalt driveway when I sit out there.  I have yet to garden the backyard, but have some potted herbs out the back door, along with some houseplants that are summering. 

It is in this environment, living with my partner, that I look for the good life.  A life lived with finesse and joie de vivre.   And the good life begins with the right attitude, and good food. 

As this blog has had many incarnations of many years, so have I.  Over the past year or so, I have indulged my passion for cooking and home culinary techniques greatly.   I have read a number of wonderful writers, writing about food and cooking, both in books, and on the net.   Some of food blogs that I read regularly are highlighted on the right side of this page. 

Cooking and eating does so much more than just provide us nutrition.  Both provide us with an opportunity to explore all of our senses, which connects us to ourselves.  Sharing a meal with others, connects us with friends and family.  What we cook and eat reminds us of where we came from, where we are, and where we are going.  

What we eat, tells a story about ourselves.