At My Table

Dear Readers,

You’re holding our very first summer issue. It’s exciting.

Summer is without a doubt the zenith of food love. It’s when market tables are brimming, the sun is bright and unyielding, thunderstorms are a salve to the soil and the soul, and we’re rushing to grow, harvest, cook, and taste all that the season supplies. It feels altogether too fleeting, as the manifestation of Mother Earth’s gifts. Garden surplus ends up in our freezers, canned and preserved in jars, and shared with neighbors. Farmers, like those we profile in this issue, know well how to manage the season’s harvest, in order to remain sustainable through all seasons and situations. They want to set your table all year round.

In March, Patrick and I were invited to the Chefs Cycle fundraiser dinner for No Kid Hungry, hosted by Edge Restaurant. Seven chefs across the region collaboratively plated seven courses and raised more than $22,000 to help end childhood hunger. The cycling team, Wheels of Thyme, includes wine importer William Binzcak, cookbook author and culinary pro Dave Joachim, and chef Lee Chizmar. We were the only media in attendance for this meal, and fortunate that our photographer Roberto Quezada-Dardón captured the largely invisible back-of-the-house moments that made this epic event a success. Expect more dinners like this in the future.

In this issue, we see firsthand the community-building potential of food when we can source it and share it with everyone who needs it. Food possesses an unwavering power to connect us in the most unexpectedly wonderful and life-changing ways.

Warmly,
Carrie

Letter from the Publisher

As I review the content of this summer issue, I’m reminded of an intense and inspirational two-week trip to India I recently took with my extended family. It struck me how food can bring us together in so many ways—no matter the reason, season, location, or situation.

Our photo essay of seven chefs working together reminds me of a packed Thali restaurant in Maduri, India. The connection might not seem obvious; the event we feature here showcased some of our region’s best and most elegant food. So different from my memories of the Thali place: the lines , the intense sounds and aromas from the open kitchen, and the unfailingly attentive service from servers wielding buckets.

They’d ladle taste after taste onto banana leaves in front of us. As with the chefs’ dinner here, we had little time to stop and wonder much about the dish—all we could do was enjoy every bite, lifted to our mouths with our hands, to savor as a new and delicious experience, before the next one arrived

My India experience reminded me that, through necessity, traditional cooking methods are a normal way of life outside the U.S. Each season, in these pages, we prioritize buying and cooking locally, but these practices remain the norm in much of the world. Traditional cultures are simply closer to the source—for reasons too numerous to detail here.

But at the core, we share this love of real food. It’s what drives both orchestrated fine-dining experiences and the seemingly chaotic creation of street food. Our appreciation seems to universally result in an appreciative laugh, smile, or even just a nod toward those who serve us.

I hope you enjoy what I am certain is our best issue yet, and that it accompanies a wonderful summer of great food and drink.

Patrick

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