Sweet Valley High

No wise man will go to live in the country, unless he has something to do which can be better done in the country.
– Samuel Johnson

When I was a teenager, my primary goal was to get out of the Hudson Valley. My sleepy town held no excitement for me, as there wasn’t much going on in these parts for a curious young girl with stars in her eyes.  As soon as high school was finished, I bolted, looking for adventure in New York City, Paris, Rome, Boston, Switzerland, and a host of other places.  The world of food was a grand spectacle that provided a passport to discovery, and I was determined to see as much as I could.

I still am; but I suddenly realized that the sound of crickets was not so bad.  In fact, it was quite peaceful and reassuring.  And lo and behold, there was a lot happening in the world of cuisine surrounding this place from which I fled.  The new Napa?  How did my sleepy home become a tourist mecca?

It wasn’t until I began writing about food, and started exploring the local scene, that I realized how much the Hudson Valley had to offer.  The farmland to the west suddenly held great appeal, as did the Shawangunk Wine Trail.  Perhaps it was time to pause for a bit and explore this area that was suddenly new and exciting to me.

I have now made friends whose passions are fulfilled in restaurant kitchens, in the fields, in orchards, and anywhere there is a gastronomic discovery to be made.  I happily feel as if I have made roots, for once, and there are some places at which I have become “a regular.”  Ten years ago that would not have seemed fathomable.

In Autumn, the Hudson Valley will spring to life, and the colors will become breathtaking hues of orange, yellow, and crimson.  The comforting smell of wood-burning fireplaces will permeate the crisp night air, and the crickets will continue their chatter.  Harvest time.

I get really excited about Harvest.  Spastic, even.  My kitchen calls to me with open arms — the sticky air is gone, and suddenly a warm oven offers an inviting respite from the evening chill.  Farm markets are bursting with color and flavor, and I become like a child at Christmas.  Apples!  Pumpkins!  Did you see these leeks?? What are we making for dinner?  Look at the size of this zucchini!!

My soul longs to be outdoors, so I take the laptop and head for the nearest comfy spot.  Better yet, I turn the laptop off and go for a drive in the mountains, where I can clear my head and ponder strategies for growth and expansion.  Weekends are time for adventures at farm markets and wineries, and orchards where I can smell the apples in the air.  Though hiking holds no appeal, I am delighted to take relaxing strolls through trails resplendent with wildlife (provided the inhabitants of said environs do not consider me “dinner”).

In the months to come, I have so much on my agenda: there are farms to visit, artisanal producers to meet, and chefs whose brains I must pick.  Time is of the essence, as this window of opportunity closes so quickly; I must not waste a moment.

Now I have visions of setting up my test kitchen facility here, on vast acres of green with rolling hills in the distance.  The house I want to build is fully realized in my head; the large, open space has become a luxurious reverie, one where I have room to breathe, and time to pause.  Perhaps even time to garden.  I can travel an hour in any direction and find something of interest, whether it be Manhattan, an organic farm, a cheesemaker, or a mountain perch from which I can watch the hikers head up the trail.  In my vision, I still hate hiking.

There are, of course, many cities and continents left for me to discover, and they remain solidly on my itinerary; but the Hudson Valley will forevermore remain a home base, where I can rest my soul and come back down to earth.  I will always have a home here, with roots that have been planted since my birth.  I may leave now and again, but somehow I always find myself back where I started.

Jennifer Iannolo is the founder and editor-in-chief of Gastronomic Meditations™.

The painting above is “Apple Orchard” by Hudson Valley artist M.E. Whitehill, who captured a breathtaking view from an orchard in New Paltz, NY. See the artist’s gallery here.