Flowers and food. Food and Flowers.

I've long been seeking out, reading cover to cover, and then saving, these two magazines. You may have heard of them, but maybe not.


The Valley Table is available at the White Plains Whole Foods Market, and was for a while at John Sarofeen's Grape Expectations, but then they stopped delivering to him. I don't know why, and he didn't seem to either, but in any event, it is dedicated to anyone who is in the business of food, wine or agriculture in the Hudson Valley.


Similarly, the Edible magazines are a series of regional publications about local, seasonal agriculture, food, wine, restaurants, etc...the Edible Nutmeg edition is Connecticut's version, and is beautifully written and photographed and is nothing short of inspiring, if you're in need of that in regards to food. I've noticed it at the Cafe at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, and in other high-end foodie haunts, but you usually have to know to look for them both, so that's why I'm bringing it to your collective attention (all...how many of you, not counting my mother?)


The cover artwork of both of these magazines is collection-worthy. If I had a huge kitchen I would have ten or so of them framed and hung around the perimeter of the room. I have oh, about 100 square feet, so unless we were going to use them as plates, that's not happening. But I do love to look at them, again and again.

I've always been a fairly good make-do floral arranger. That is, I could rummage around outside in almost any season and come up with some sort of pleasing arrangement. I believe this started when I used to go to a wonderful cottage in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and would go out in the afternoon foraging and come back with what some people may have (read: did) refer to as "weeds". But they were beautiful, I think. I'd put them everywhere in all these fabulous milk-glass vases and pitchers that people who grow up with such things take for granted, but those of us who grew up with shrimp-cocktail jars for juice glasses regard as treasures.

In any event, I've always loved the garden in fall as much as any other season, I think for two reasons. One: there's a certain desperation in the last burst of colors and textures before winter, which appeals to me for it's scrappy-ness, tenacity. Two: I like a challenge. Anyone can go out and cut some roses, but to come up with some leftover sage, the end of the daisies, and a few last hydrangeas and make it beautiful-now that's something.

So I'll leave you with this; I like dried hydrangeas as much as the next person, but when you find yourself dusting them, it's time for them to go.

Waiting for the bittersweet. Thanks for reading.

tt