This past Saturday was my last garden morning at Little Grasse until the fall. Shareholders and friends alike came out to help plant various dried beans under the hot and unforgiving sun. Even with those vicious rays, I felt completely in sync the entire morning; place, plant, cover, repeat. Just as I really get the pattern down I’m leaving! The aforementioned sweltering morning was followed by a swimming-filled afternoon that remedied any sun exhaustion quickly and made my heart homesick before I packed a single box.
Now you might be wondering where exactly it is I’m going. Back to Texas? To another farm? No and no. After months of searching and applying and tearing my hair out, the stars have aligned and I am (at the time of this article being published) en route to New York City for the rest of the summer for a food writing internship (!!!). You could say I’m excited. But also a little nervous, to be honest.
It’s always been a dream of mine to live in New York City and write; at least, it used to be. Old Amy wanted nothing more to be entrenched in fast-paced city life, boundless shopping, and shiny things/people galore. However, New Amy really likes being outside and barefoot and completely herself. I have confidence I can reconcile these desires in NYC, though it might take a little work. I also realize that I’m going to have the opportunity to do so many things I love (cooking and writing and exploring and meeting new people) while there, and that this is the chance of a lifetime.
Still, I heave a heavy sigh as I say goodbye to the North Country. Four weeks into summer and I still can’t get over the breathless beauty of the place, nor the wonderfully warm friends I have made. Flip and Bob invited me over for a spectacular farewell dinner of pork ribs, fresh greens, and pesto rice (recipes to come!) that tugged at my already over-tugged heartstrings. The night was stormy and overcast, which made dinner all the cozier.
I don’t eat a ton of dessert, but this night I made an exception, because to refuse this treat would have been third-degree blasphemy against the flavor gods. Some frozen blueberries from last summer were pulled out of the freezer and topped with fresh, raw cream from a neighboring happy cow. The cream actually froze up a little because the blueberries were so icy. The result was a swoon-worthy ice-creamy treat that had my heart all aflutter. Why am I leaving again?
Frozen Blueberries and Cream
This recipe is so simple I don’t really know if it counts. But it’s unbelievable healthy, delicious, and satisfying, so I want everyone out there to enjoy it. Serves one.
- 1/2 cup frozen blueberries
- 1/4 cup full-fat cream (preferably from a happy cow)
- Optional: chopped mint, a squeeze of lemon, or a light drizzle of honey or maple syrup
Mix in a small bowl, coating the berries with the cream. Savor until the berries are gone, then greedily drink all the purple cream at the bottom of the bowl. Don’t bother trying to look dignified.
North Country, we will be reunited in the fall. Until then, NYC here I come! I already have a list of farmers markets and organic butcher shops in hand, let the culinary adventures begin!