I had signed up to get emails from America’s Test Kitchen when I wanted their wine jelly recipe, so occasionally I get these nice “Letters from Vermont” over the name of Chris Kimball, whose name may or may not be familiar to you (if it is, I love you!).
Yesterday’s “Letter from Vermont,” about the beginning of hunting season and the upcoming holidays, is really sticking with me today because TODAY is also the first day I get to go and pick up my share of The Farm School‘s winter meat CSA. I’m really excited. There are going to be pictures, and I will post again later once I get the bounty back home. In the meantime, here’s the paragraph I’ve been thinking about:
These days, I run into people who have moved up from the city to make goat cheese or raise pigs. It’s encouraging that the land is going back under the plow, that farms and barns are being brought back to life. But I do wonder what the old-timers would have thought about it all. For them, it was a life without labels: neither organic nor biodynamic. It wasn’t even slow food—it was just a slow, and happy, life.
Meghan over at Meghan Makes It and I frequently discuss the tendency our generation has to drift toward the things our great-great-grandmothers took as a matter of course: canning and “putting up,” vegetable gardening, locally farmed meat culled in late autumn and early winter, bread baking, cheese making, home brewing, chicken raising, bee keeping, and all sorts of other “locavore,” “slow food” goodies. We aren’t doing it because we HAVE to, thank UL*, but because we WANT to and doing it somehow makes us feel connected to not just our planet, but our pasts.
*Another reference that if you get it, I will LOVE YOU FOREVER.