Brooklyn to Vermont and back again
October in Vermont, anniversary, paying attention, eucalyptus
Hi! This is my fifty-first edition of The Dish. Fifty-one! And somehow I still have a little community reading each and every one! It’s a tiny following in the grand scheme of things, but it’s full of brilliant friends and family who send me kind responses, and it’s growing, slowly but surely, every week. These letters are the most consistent I’ve ever been with a creative practice, and I feel proud that every week, I open a Google Doc and write something, whatever that may be.
Some days, like today, it feels quite indulgent to shove a diary entry into your inbox and expect you to read it, so I’d just like to say that I hope you feel absolutely welcome to ignore me whenever you please! Click delete, and move on with your life. My words will be waiting here if you ever want to catch up, and if not, that’s cool, too.
In a recent edition of La Briffe, food writer Ruth Reichl’s newsletter, Reichl re-published a piece she wrote back in 2010 in response to a criticism she received. It was around the time of the earthquake in Haiti, after someone wrote to her, “Given the situation in Haiti, maybe you should stop writing about all the great food you’re eating.” I won’t try to summarize Reichl’s entire response, but I encourage you to read what she wrote here. All I’ll say is that she defends her art with a lot of grace, and it’s helping me reckon with my own insecurities regarding my career path. Loving food is life-affirming, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Now I’d like to tell you about spending the last couple days in Vermont, where Teo and I celebrated our one year anniversary. We made a pit stop in Massachusetts to collect my box of winter clothing and drop off my summer things. We snuck in a quick tea with my dad, too. Good for the soul! Post-tea, we made our way up to my family’s place in Starksboro, an itty bitty town in Addison County. The Green Mountain State is my favorite place in the world, and I wish more than anything that it were closer to Brooklyn. Teo and I managed to see Vermont at peak season this year (I’m not always so lucky!), and I’m so glad we did. The trees were ablaze with red and orange and yellow, colors you can’t believe exist naturally. I swooned especially hard for the yellow leaves against dark violet mountains in the distance. So striking. There is no better place to be in October than Vermont. I’m sure of it.
While in Vermont, we hiked Snake Mountain (which was lovely!!) and wandered around Burlington briefly, but we mostly hung around at home with the wood stove roaring. I made waffles one morning, which we ate on the porch with warm local syrup and coffee, and that evening we cooked a *very* good pasta with hot Italian sausage, roasted butternut squash, sage-infused brown butter, and Parmesan flurried on top. Teo made a big salad with Boston lettuce and radicchio, and it was, to me, a perfect meal.
It was hard to leave.
I’m back in New York now, and am feeling optimistic about my week of work. I have a Hart’s notebook that I’m trying to fill with notes about what I’m learning, and it’s motivating me to be as engaged as possible in the kitchen. I really do think that paying attention is the key to most things.
I just returned from the Grand Army Greenmarket, where one farm was selling huge bunches of eucalyptus. People of all ages and sizes and races were holding them like oversized wedding bouquets. It’s nice to think about all of the apartments that will be fragrant with eucalyptus this morning, thanks to this one farm. It’s nice to think about all of the people who showed up to the farmers market this morning, not knowing they’d be leaving with the scent of mint and woods and honey in their arms.
Oof, I’m running late. No time to proofread! Off to work!
Lots of love,
Phoebe