In the fall of 2021, a cluster of things—the virus, turning 50, our growing children, and the state of the nation—caused me to pause. What work am I doing? Feelings of uselessness and alienation crept in, unwelcome feelings which did not ebb with my usual interventions—more prayer and more self-care, which now seems to be the conventional answer to every malaise. 

From 1973 to 1977, my world was divided between the farm community—Newcombs, Plancks, summer workers, and various orphans and strays who lived on the farm for months or years, and were taken in with a good sort of tough love, an enduring form of Newcomb charity—and the people who came to The Stand on Route 7 to buy corn, beans, and tomatoes, known as “customers.” Or, you might say, our living.

I bring you the writing of two literary stars in the Planck-Kaufelt family. My father, Chip Planck, farmed vegetables on a large scale with my mother Susan for 35 years, and now has what I call a micro-farm, with teensy quantities of equipment, crops, and chickens. Many of those farm-years, Dad spent on a tractor. Sitting on a tractor for hours is a solitary sport. For the right mind, it’s meditative. Dad spent many of those thousands of tractor-hours writing poems. “Farm Boys,” which I offer today, is one of my favorites.

I got a sneaky feeling Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie” movie would be a hit when I bought a ticket on opening weekend. An infrequent movie-goer, I am seldom attracted to mass pop culture, least of all when it’s fresh. This summer I saw four great movies: “The Last Picture Show”, “Five Easy Pieces”, “Goodfellas”, and “Terms of Endearment” – all for the first time. For me, it would have been more in character to watch “Barbie” from my couch in 2043.

Agave nectar. Barbados sugar. Barley malt. Barley malt syrup. Beet sugar. Brown sugar. Buttered syrup. Cane juice. Cane juice crystals. Cane sugar. Caramel…

Your ten year-old daughter was so sweet: she held your hand and loved your cooking. When she turned 11, she loved to read, wouldn’t look up from her book if her dog sprouted a second tail. At age 12, she still sat on your lap at family parties, with everyone looking.

For a friendship to flourish, Shasta Nelson, the author of “Frientimacy,” says three things are needed: one, it’s positive. You feel good! Two, there’s consistency. You see her regularly. Three, there’s vulnerability – you feel safe when you’re with her. At Hidden Roots, we have all three. Read all about it in the New York Times, or visit Hidden-Roots.com to learn more about NYC circles for quiet, authentic storytelling.

I loved this review of my cookbook from the San Francisco Book Review.

Your palate, like that of your children, may be changing. Don’t consider it a fixed entity. Find The Real Food Cookbook at Murray’s on Bleecker Street and all over the country, in fine bookstores, and on-line. Eat well.