The announcement came in last week: Bartlett’s Farm is harvesting their corn crop! Every day hundreds of freshly picked ears are offered for sale at the farm and from Bartlett’s farm trucks on Main Street and in Sconset. When it’s this fresh, corn is delicious simply steamed or even raw, […]
Beach Plums are a sign that summer on Nantucket will soon ease into autumn. These deep purple (and if you are lucky, gold) fruits are ripening all across the island. They make wonderful jelly—or if a batch doesn’t set quite right, sauce for meats or even to pour over ice cream. Too hot this August to stand over a stove for long enough to make jelly? You can make juice from your beach plum harvest and freeze that until the weather is cool enough to make jelly.
Living on Nantucket Island during the off-season gives us easy access to freshly caught bay scallops, a true treasure from the sea. These sweet, delicate tidbits are delicious raw, freshly shucked. But if you prefer your Nantucket Bays cooked, here are a few of our favorite recipes to try. If […]
Since the beginnings of the pandemic restrictions in March, there’s been a surge in home cooking. From sourdough everything to complicated pies and homestead recipes for foraged harvests, island residents have been spending more time than ever in their kitchens, experimenting and sharing successes.
Before European settlers arrived on Nantucket, the island was inhabited by the indigenous Wampanoag people. They numbered in the thousands and thrived not only due to their cultivation of corn and beans, but because of the richness of the environment around them. With the convenience of mass production and modern agriculture, it’s easy to forget about these prolific plants and wild foods that sustained humans for countless generations. There’s a bounty to be had in your back yard and beyond: the key is to know what you’re looking for. There are lots of locals who take full advantage of the forests and fields, sands and seas, and Nantucket’s Seth Engelbourg is one of them.
In the garden, a mourning dove calls. The heat of the day is already boasting of its strength, but there’s a slight wind with a gentle touch as it cools the sweat of my brow. The air is saturated and heavy, but the prize offers a brief reprieve in radiant red. It’s tomato season.
Independence day feels a little different this year. The country is divided. It seems as though you’re either blue or red with no room for indecision. In the garden things are much different. My borage is still blue, and my tomatoes will be red, but there are colors between. My summer and winter squash are a brilliant yellow. The Cosmos and Calendula are flamingo pink and fire orange. Broccoli of violet and beans of scarlet. I have sunflowers that are the color of a Madaket sunset, and peas that are as green as an Irish summer. There is diversity, there is middle ground, there is understanding and support. My “three sisters” bed is exploding with companionship. No plant is the same, but they all work together for the greater good. If only a country was as easily run as a garden is to manage.