Grist for the Mill
Dear Reader,
I’ve always been a picky eater. When I was a kid I refused to eat what I called “cold sandwiches”—you know, the kind of sandwiches every other kid grew up on. If I ate a sandwich, it had to be a grilled cheese or a sandwich made on French bread. Otherwise, I ate soup. At my best friend’s house I was asked what vegetable I would like with dinner. And my response at age 5? “Artichoke, please.”
It was the 1970s—there was no French bread at the IGA—and when you were asked about vegetables, it meant frozen corn or peas. Imagine my parents trying to figure out how to feed this stubborn eater. I’ll admit I was totally high maintenance. But I held my ground, rescued by my trusty Snoopy thermos and a foil-wrapped “hot” sandwich.
My choosiness morphed into an interest in cooking that was born out of self-preservation, if not just a way to avoid doing dishes. By the age of 16 I had traded in my gift subscription to Glamour for a subscription to Gourmet. I increased my appetite for food knowledge and food writing through catering and restaurant jobs. It’s no surprise to anyone in my family that food is the center of my daily occupation, though some might call it my daily obsession.
When the opportunity to launch Edible Rhody came along, it was a natural fit. Almost 10 years later, I am still as excited as ever over my daily dose of gastronomy. Thinking back to the food choices I had in the 1970s, it’s remarkable to see what is available these days on grocery store shelves and at farmers’ markets. Moreover, the choices in foods that are grown and produced locally make cooking and eating an even greater pleasure. But it’s the stories behind our local food that ultimately fulfill my hunger. Learning the driving forces behind our local food producers provides an invaluable perspective on the importance of food, the fuel that drives us all.
In this issue you’ll learn why two local farmers nearly gave up farming in Rhode Island, plus the story behind Narragansett Beer’s near demise and more recent rebirth. You’ll find tempting recipes that I hope will encourage you to hurry up and slow down—and to get in front of the stove and spend an afternoon cutting and chopping and creating food that brings together friends and family. There’ll be a story behind that, too.
One last thing before you delve into this Fall issue: Please don’t forget to vote. I’m not just talking about the November elections; I’m talking about our annual Local Hero Awards. Simply click on the banner at EdibleRhody.com and vote for the local food heroes who bring us our food and help champion positive change in our food community. It could well be the most fun you have at the polls this season!