We Are Rich

Acres of white blossoms stretching to the ocean-fields of potatoes encircling, enclosing each of the once small East End villages. In fall the plowed earth striped and rich and a deep chestnut brown – the wealth of the Hamptons found in its soil.

We could drive to the ocean in the back of a pick-up-truck. My father might stop and send us out into the field to find a few lone potatoes which remained after the harvesting was complete. Potato trucks on back roads and triangular potato houses all part of the landscape of home. You could feel the vast openness around you- the spaciousness of earth and sky and fog rolling in from the sea.

Aside from summer recess-the thing we most looked forward to in June was strawberry season -with pick-your-own at Osborne’s Farm in Wainscot. Toes and lips stained red from the occasional strawberry that didn’t make its way into the basket – heaping piles of deep crimson goodness and the promise of homemade shortcake after dinner that night.

Maybe it’s the light – the angle of the sun, the rich earth, or the salty air-of this fragile fish tail of land stretching to the sea- but I have never tasted finer sweet corn than here on the East End. It is surely something I think many - if not all- of us look forward to all year - we wait patiently to hear word of local sweet corn arriving at the farm stands.

Sent out to the back porch to do the shucking - as kids we might wrangle over the ear that held the tightest kernels and had a bit of cob remaining-the handle to hold onto. There is always one ear that seems to call your name. With melted butter my mother warmed in a small pot on the stove and a bit of salt - this was and is-one of the finest tastes of summer – eight of us around the kitchen table enjoying- like a crisp summer prayer.

So much joy awaited-the hot summer days at Long Beach, toasting marshmallows at Left Sagg -ripe summer peaches, amazing melt in your mouth cantaloupe and tomatoes - worthy of every sauce and salsa - but mostly sliced on a plate in the middle of the table.

We anticipate the arrival of each bit of earth’s bounty to appear at our farmstands- with a timing of their own, but one that you can often set your watch to. They beckon our signature summer dishes, our grill baskets, family barbeques with the unforgettable taste of summer.

We are rich-each of us- rich in the goodness of the earth. Rich with memories of simpler times and grateful for the farmers who continue to carry on these traditions – planting and plowing between newly hewn housing developments and vacant estates. Grateful for the white potato flowers and fields that remain standing as reminders of paradise - and grateful to those who work to preserve this land and these traditions - making sure that all of paradise is not lost.