Cuttings

For years now I've bought amazing local potatoes and no-spray veggies from Debbie and Darryl Mosher of Brittany Hollow Farm in Red Hook. When we first met at the Rhinebeck Farmers' Market, their three kids were little enough to sit together on the tailgate of their farm truck dangling their feet.

For the last couple of summers, their son Ross, now a really, really big guy, has been planting a pick-your-own flower field just north of the family farm on Route 9.


It's a pretty simple operation, really. As with so many of our local farm stands, the farmers are too damn busy to sit there and collect your money. There's a rusty old metal box with a slot in the top for your 5's and 10's.


Grab some clippers and a bucket, large or larger. Hit the field. Clip away among the bumble bees and butterflies. Teach your three-year-old the names of all the flowers and bugs.


Then contribute to Ross's college fund. Stuff your bills into the slot and drive home with enough beautiful zinnias, coxcomb, cleome and cosmos to fill all the vases you own.

Brittany Hollow Farm is located at 7115 Albany Post Road (Route 9) just south of Holy Cow. Pick-Your-Own morning to dusk. $5 for a six-inch bucket. $10 for an 8-inch bucket. 845-758-3276.

Blueberries

I grew up in Maine where blueberry picking is one of the great joys of summer. The blueberries of my youth were teeny-tiny and intensely sweet. We usually picked them along the camp road. In places where they were thick, we were ever mindful of bears (who were likely to be meandering along picking them too).

If you find yourself in Maine this summer, you'll spot wild blueberry pickers selling quarts off their tailgates. Buy as many as you can carry. It's tough work picking those low bush berries, and they are delicate. You'll want to eat them before you cross the New Hampshire line, as they will perish in the heat of the lesser New England states. I mean lower.


But, wait! This blog is about Tivoli. Lucky for us, nearby Greig Farm has rows and rows of beautiful high bush blueberries laden with ripening fruit. No bears. And no bending, squatting or crawling around to fill you pail (unless you just can't resist the urge to pick like a pro).

While I was grazing along picking at eye level, a lovely Jamaican guy was whistling his way down the next row picking for the farm. I hope you get the same relaxing serenade while you tip the darkest berries into your pail... kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk.

Blueberries are $2.50 per pound, and $2 for the plastic pail. You want the plastic pail. Red and yellow raspberries are $5 per pound, and seniors get a 10% discount on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

Greig Farm is located at 223 Pitcher Lane in Red Hook. Pick Your Own daily from 8am to 8pm, rain or shine. 845-758-1234.

Wear your sun hat! And watch for blackberries, apples, and pumpkins as the growing season continues.

Big Weekend in the Little Village

The weekend surprised us with a bit more sun than we've grown accustomed to, and a couple of nice little events were that much more pleasant as a result.


On Saturday night, the Tivoli Artists' Co-op held an opening reception for their annual 3-D show. Ten member artists' work in various media, a decent glass of wine and a room full of artists and friends to chat with. It was a full house and a sweet evening.


On Sunday morning, the second meeting of the Tivoli Bread & Baking Co. Wiffle Ball League (kids vs. adults) got off the ground, and we even needed sun block! Balls were whacked, bases were loaded, points were scored, but not in that particular order, of course.


Pitcher Mikee Gonnella was on the mound lobbing big plastic balls into the sweet spot. No one keeping score. Everyone was a winner. (Note fathers relaxing with coffee in the outfield.)



And, to top off the weekend, Chuck Mead's cherries are in at Mead Orchards; and Mikee knows just what to do with them. Piping hot bakery action, and a lovely finish to the weekend. Cherry tarts with Sunday night supper.

'Cue to Go

Driving up Route 9G just north of the Village, you may have noticed a small wooden sign at Route 6. It's 'Cue to Go, a take-out barbecue biz that started last fall.

Husband and wife duo Lisa and Brad Renner started 'Cue to Go as an off-shoot of their catering business. Actually bottled chutneys and salsas were the first off-shoot. We're all doing what we can.

I pulled in the drive of their farm house (with a million-dollar view) recently to check it out. Frankly astonished by the size of their commercial kitchen and trying to hide my gas range envy, I ordered a handful of things, then decided to take the BBQ to the view.


As the summer gets too hot for cooking, grab a picnic table at Clermont and give the smoked barbecue a try. The sides are a little heavy for my taste, but pack a salad for balance, and you'll be quite satisfied.

Better yet, order now for the 4th. Ribs and fireworks would be ever so nice.

'Cue to Go is at 230 County Route 6, just off Route 9G. Open Wednesday and Thursday 11 to 7, Friday and Saturday 11 to 8. Call ahead for large orders. 518-537-7246.

Foraging Ramps

Last week, my friend Mark came by with an armful of ramps. He foraged them from the banks of the Roe Jan Creek in Germantown. I grew up among foragers, so this bundle of beautiful wild leeks was an utter joy.

My Maine relations are out this season of the year gathering dandelion greens and fiddle heads, and we've spent hours together digging clams, chopping muscles off rocks, picking wild raspberries and crawling around for blueberries. So hunting for ramps seemed like a good activity for the week. With the two-year-old asleep in the back seat, I figured a quick drive around the Village would yield a patch or two.



Mark and our friend Arno have found big patches of ramps along streams this spring. Ramps like dampness, but don't like to have their feet in standing water. My friends found theirs about 10 feet above the water line growing just a little higher than the skunk cabbage. My foraging needed to happen a little closer to the road (with sleeping toddler in tow). About five minutes into my adventure, I struck it lucky.

Ramps are wicked easy to spot, it turns out. This time of year, the spring sunshine pours right down through the open canopy of trees onto their bright green leaves. They are lit up like a beacon. Slightly deterred by a No Trespassing sign, I bypassed the first patch, but a short drive on, I hit the brakes at patch number two. Looked like ramps. Picked one. Smelled a little oniony, but could have been some woodland wildflower. Only way to know for sure, a big ol' mouthful. BINGO. Ramps.



Raw ramps are sharp and oniony, but sauteed they become sweet and mellow. I ate the first batch from Mark lightly sauteed in olive oil and sprinkled with a little Celtic sea salt. Twirled them on the end of a fork and loved them. A little stringy, but not enough to deter me.



I julienned my second bunch of ramps and sauteed them gently then stirred them into hot pasta with minced anchovies (not being a girl afraid of a little flavor). A big grind of black pepper and some sea salt made a mighty fine spring dinner.

If you're intrigued, you can buy ramps this week at Adam's for $12.99 per pound. Makes my little patch an even sweeter find. And, thank goodness we're not living in Quebec, because ramps are a protected plant there and selling them is a punishable offense. Poachers abound, because Quebecois love their ail des bois.


Oh, and the first spring shiitake are in too! They don't exactly qualify as foraged food, but when you have a pal who is a former shiitake grower, every now and then a little brown bag of them finds its way into you kitchen. If I hadn't devoured the shiitake within minutes of getting them, they'd have been lovely with my ramps. Oh well, there's always next spring.

Garden Variety iCandy

Between the raindrops this week, I managed a little garden clean-up. Hope yours is looking equally vibrant at close range.


There's been a lot of neighborly chat over the winter about new vegetable beds going in this spring. If the White House is doing it, why shouldn't we? So, what's growing in your garden this year?

Boiling Off

If your sap buckets have been running over, this was the perfect weekend for a boil off. The days were warm and sunny. The wood smoke smelled fabulous. And the kids were happy just to roll around in the leaves (and get tangled in the tubing dripping sap into the collecting barrels).


Our friend Craig has been doing this for about a decade, and his system is simple perfection. His evaporation pans are old catering trays. He welded the fire box himself, and the grills inside are from Roger Hoffman's in Red Hook (more on Roger's one day soon). This winter's ice storm provided plenty of downed wood, and Craig's wife Jane cleverly warmed crepes by the fire. Pretty nice way to spend an afternoon.


The boiling requires constant tending. The fresh sap is filtered through a little cheesecloth and runs in a thin stream into the boiling pan. Craig's clever old pot adaptation keeps the cold sap from killing the rolling boil in the evaporator. Still, with four pans, a hot spot on the fire and some skimming of foam once in awhile, it takes a watchful eye to get an even boil and keep the syrup level high in the pans.



The end result is this sweet, slightly smokey elixir of spring. Hope you had some too!

At Last

Oh, the sweet taste of spring. And, did you smell the mud today? Glorious, earthy mud. The red-winged blackbirds are rustling around in the cattails beside the pond. And, in a couple of weeks the sweet chirping of peepers. Oh, those peepers.

The Loop

Around Tivoli, we just call it The Loop. A 2.5 mile circumnavigation of the square-mile Village's north side. Simply put that's Broadway to North Road to Sengstack Lane to Woods Road to Broadway. We keep the water tower over our left shoulder and walk counter-clockwise. Don't ask me why. But, we do. If you go the other way, it's just, well... wrong.

The Loop will take you less than 40 minutes. For me, it's a bit longer. You know me, always stopping for a closer look at some electric green moss or varmint bones. I've seen wild turkeys, a piliated woodpecker, deer (spare me), a couple of snakes and a painted turtle.

All this is lovely, but it is not why we go. You see, this little Village has eyes and ears. Not much goes unnoticed (and if we wanted unnoticed, we'd live in the city). Get yourself out onto Sengstack Lane with nothing but meadow around you. Let the sun shine on your face and the wind whip around your coat hem and your mind opens up. You can say anything out there. Who's to hear?


And then there's the Hemlock Woods. At the end of the meadow. Out of the sunshine and in to woody twilight. Your pace will slow, and your eye will be drawn to the spaces between the trees. You'll hear more clearly than out in the open. And here you will distill the essence of your open air thoughts. This is why we go.

Tapping Tivoli

On a walk around the Village these days, you'll find taps on a few of your neighbors' maples. With the cold earlier this week, there was just a smidgen of sap in the bottom of the buckets, but the 10-day forecast has daytime temps above freezing all next week. With a little boiling, this means maple syrup in our near future. Life is worth living again.


And, this being Tivoli, you will find all manner of taps. With our can-do attitude (and a little plastic twine and an old water jug or two), we can turn a sow's ear into a silk purse, or sap into syrup, anyway.


Do I even have to say it? I love this damn make-do bucket.

Thaw

The ice is melting. And, this week the maple sap began to run. If your taps are in, you know that already. It's a little early, but we'll take it. Cold weather in the next few days will slow things down, but by late month collection (and boiling) should hit high gear. My friend Jo will be out there flipping pancakes and drizzling them with fresh maple syrup in a few weeks. Go over to the farm and get some. Really. If you miss it, you'll kick yourself.


And, there's green out there if you know where to look. Believe me, I've been looking. These little beauties will surely open their snowy faces very soon. Don't worry. I won't let it pass you by.

Ice Yachting

There's a sheet of clear ice locked in place on the banks of Athens, just 20 miles north of Tivoli on the Hudson's west shore, and ice boats are taking full advantage. If you've been around here any length of time, you've heard about ice boating. You may even know that FDR had a boat named The Icicle. You probably also know that the ice just doesn't set up every winter, but this year the wicked cold nights have been kind to the yachting set.

The ice in Athens is so good, in fact, that cars from as far away as Maine and Quebec are parked in the DEC Boat Launch this weekend. And a half-dozen boats from the North Shrewsbury Ice Boat & Yacht Club are in the mix. (I hear the guys from Montreal are itching to race, and they were just pulling in when I left.)

If you don't know ice, you'd think this year's snow would make skating along in an ice boat impossible; but sunny days melt fresh snow, thickening the ice and forming a perfectly level surface. Good thing, too, because these boats can get up to 70 miles per hour with the right wind.

Today was a little gusty, but tomorrow's another day.


The guys ('cause it is mostly guys) who own these boats love the history of their sport as much as they love wind, ice and speed. You'll see rigging that reminds you of the schooners that used to grace the River, and the sound of wind-whipped sails will make you grin. The Hudson River Ice Yachting Club keeps tabs on ice conditions off Rhinecliff, Tivoli Bays and Athens, and the guys can fill you in on the local lore of their sport, which has been going on here since the 19th century.

Parking's tight this weekend, but don't let that deter you. Head up to Athens, now. Cross the Rip Van Winkle Bridge. Turn right onto 385 North. Through the Village to the DEC Boat Launch just north of town, and get out on the ice. Dogs, kids, sleds and skates encouraged.

Addendum: The guy out on the ice with the big camera must have been from the Times. Camera envy.

Get Out There

This time of year if you don't get yourself outside, you're just going to be cold. Reverse logic, but with the thermostat set somewhere around 60, it's always chilly inside. (Clearly, I am living without a woodstove.)


At the house on the hill east of the village, we've been sledding. And, this week, if you're on the toddler side of the scale, you don't even need a sled. You can skim right along on your back on this amazing crust.

So, come on over. We've got about a quarter mile run out back, and it's FAST. Just remember, you'll have to stomp your way back up the hill. (Think of it as cardio.)

Oh, and be patient. Your cross country skiis will no doubt get more powdery stuff soon enough.