So then this happened...

Have you ever been so engrossed in your own reverie that you lose track that someone else might view the world through a completely different lens? I bet you have. A few weeks ago I received a call from Paul, asking if I'd had any discussions with a neighbor. Why no, I had not. Turns out, the helpful neighbor had taken it upon himself to bulldoze out one of our beaver dams, causing a catastrophic loss of water and all of its attendant life--fish, nesting birds, beavers, otters, frogs, toads, water lilies and a myriad of other souls who were comfortably thriving in a several acre habitat. We fostered this habitat precisely for cultivating diversity on the farm, and also to create substantial water reserves below eyesight and in view to buffer the forests during the wild swings in weather. When we expressed our dismay and horror, said neighbor did not apologize, they merely said, "You've got it all wrong." He was trying to clear a way to work on a road. As chilling and distressing and disruptive as was this disconnect, it has me wondering if we are simply looking at our phones too much. Isolating in our own bubbles. Looking down when we need to be looking out, sharing our visions, discussing the value of what we are doing. Listening to the perceptions of others. As Pollyanna as this may seem, perhaps it would at least strengthen the ties of awareness so that we can live without bumping into one another and the planet we live on. I am going to try to do better. And I am also going to try to lure some beavers back, as I join forces in their dam-building projects.

Major set backs can lead to major movement (balancing of the universe and all...). So on the positive side, many of you are well-aware of Paul's demanding mistress, Asparagus. Asparagus came into Paul's life even before his 2006 Army retirement, when his intention was to settle into his (and Jeri's) new-old farm, acquired in 1996 and grow blueberries. But blueberries wouldn't have him. One day, as Paul was fussing over his berries, the former owner, Helen Whitford Fassett, stopped to check in on him and Jeri. She observed him working over his berries, and casually asked about how the asparagus was faring.

Asparagus?!? She walked Paul to her old patch behind the barn and pointed it out, flourishing despite the absence of her loving touch. Paul was smitten. Basking in the flame of new love (a love which has only grown stronger with time) Paul began relentlessly researching Asparagus--its growth habits, its preferred soils, its life cycle, propagation techniques...you get the point. From rocket-like spears to head-high waving, ferny fronds, Paul devoted himself to Asparagus. And what an affair it has been! From his first planted cultivar, Jersey Night, Paul expanded to miles of beds of Asparagus and 11 varietals. More on this later, but suffice it to say for now, Paul and Asparagus have A Thing. A Thing that frankly, annoyed me a bit, because she IS a demanding mistress. Every year, as the maple trees start winding down their sap production, Paul starts to get a little antsy, because, well....Asparagus. When the trees are done, his lovingly tended beds of Asparagus start to rumble and threaten to explode in a good but decidedly pushy way. Paul uses no chemical fertilizers or pesticides to make sure every plant grows at a deliberate pace. He builds the soils with care year round, and shoo's deer from the lush nurseries. The result is Asparagus that is not hyper-nitrogenous green, but rather full of delicious natural minerals and flavor. And handpicked. Aparagus will have none of that mechanical harvesting nonsense. Asparagus wants you to bend to the soil and carefully cut each spear individually. Paul's Zoar Asparagus has become the absolute standard of excellence in our little region, and is sought out by the most discerning local chefs.

Anyone who knows Asparagus also knows that it comes with a very fast season for harvesting spears--about 6 weeks. Moreover, Asparagus spears are a lot like cut flowers--they fade quickly. For the many years Paul has been building his Asparagus Magna Opus, we haven't been able to share beyond a small, local footprint due to the delicate qualities of Asparagus. This year that changes. We have created three new offerings for our Tapatree Family--all artisanal and gourmet: Pickled Asparagus Tips; Pickled Asparagus Confetti; and, as a new delicacy, Pickled Garlic Scapes (which Paul has been developing among the Asparagus beds). These will become available later this summer, and we couldn't be happier to be able to share. (No more people raiding my pantry for my secret stash!) The Asparagus and Scapes are a beautiful addition to a charcuterie presentation, a sophisticated garnish to cocktails, an elegant "fancification" to paella, and so many other fun dishes. We can't wait! But you will have to...just a little longer--we're still finalizing the pretty labels and setting up glamor photo shoots!

Tapatree was always meant to be a project where we can bring you a melange of products which are interrelated by terroir, incorporate a tapestry of artisans, and shine with authenticity. This summer the dream is growing. Thank you for growing with us, Tapatree Family! Stay tuned!

And so now, with the dismal news of destruction balanced with the uplifting news of innovation, I close the blog for today. May we lift our heads and see the world in all of its complexity and voices and wind our way through in a way that adds to a beautiful tapestry. Til next time, enjoy the summer warmth and drink in the air of Possibility!