Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse in 1971. It was a place where she and her friends could cook in the classic style of the French countryside, talk politics and drink wine. Since those early days, her commitment to organic, local foods, and to the communities of farmers and artisan producers who make them possible, has never waned. She has supported a return to the traditional growing and harvesting techniques that preserve and enrich the land for future generations. Her cookbooks, so authoritative and inspiring, are always in heavy rotation in my kitchen. Chez Panisse Fruit is a go-to for selecting, storing, preparing and preserving whatever's in season. It is filled with recipes both sweet and savory, but also with some of the simplest, most perfect ideas for enjoying fruit at its peak. (Another favorite, also highly recommended is Pam Corbin's The River Cottage Preserves Handbook.) This is my idea of summer fun.

I've just come in from the garden. The weather is so glorious, sparkling fresh after Sunday's long, steady downpour. Hummingbirds zipped around me as I weeded the beds. Chipmunks chased each other around the rocky borders. The peony bushes are weighed down with tight buds about to burst open. Late-blooming lilacs perfume the silky air. June is busting out all over! Our farmers market is already offering us many delights: radishes galore, feathery fronds of tarragon, hardy stalks of green garlic, tart sorrel leaves and sweet little carrots with bushy greens still attached. From my own garden, the lovage, rhubarb and mint are faithful first responders, and tender greens—mustard, spinach, kale, lettuce—are ready for picking. I wake early to the complex melodies and syncopations of what sounds like a thousand birds and am filled with energy for the day ahead. Which is good because these days are coming at me fast and furious, requiring all my focus and creativity and determination.

I started writing this blog 7 years ago with no real thought for where it might take me, other than deeper into my passions. Behind all the cooking (and eating), the gardening, the foraging, the entertaining and the traveling there is a lust for life, a desire to live very fully and freely, unencumbered by fear. I have shared openly here about my struggles as well as my joys: the death of one husband and the illness of another; the tyranny of my own perfectionism; what it means to get older. I have never advertised on this blog, never run any paid promotions. This is a sacred space for me and I feel lucky to have attracted a core of loyal readers. You are not "fans" nor "followers," you are kindred spirits who have accompanied me on this journey. As I strive to make a giant leap in a new direction with the opening of Fish & Bicycle, I need your support.

It's not news to you that I have been toiling away these last many months on a project near and dear to my heart. Fish & Bicycle, a bar/cafe and small grocery in the Western Catskills is inching towards its launch date, one pulse-elevating, sweat-inducing, thrill-delivering day at a time. (I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...) We've garnered bank loans and grants, compiled our savings and delivered gallons of sweat equity, and we're still shy of the full amount we need to do a full build-out on the raw 1920s industrial building that will house our business. So we've launched a crowd-sourcing campaign to bring this labor of love on home. 

Is it spring yet? The calendar says so, but only last week there were snow flurries in these parts. Too little, too late, after an abysmally snow-free winter. Despite the cold, the season is making inroads. The red-wing blackbirds have arrived and some little yellow finches, too. More than one bear has ambled through our yard in search of birdseed. And the first hardy greens are up—garlic mustard and watercress in the wild; rhubarb, lovage and angelica in the garden. There will be nothing new from our local farms for some time, so I can't help but eyeball all that California bounty. My palate craves tender greens and bright, sunny flavors and those luscious lemons, artichokes and strawberries prove virtually irresistible.