Marshall's blog

About four or five years ago, Terry, myself and a few friends, sat down and contemplated (for months) how to open a market that would just sell local goods. The timing was too early. People wondered where they would get their bananas. Luckily, that didn't deter Shannon and Todd from opening up Denver's first "all local" market, In Season Local Market.

They occupy a space in Lohi (Lower Highlands) off of 32nd and Wyandot. The space is tiny, but the necessities are all there. There is also a nice patio that will usher in the fruits of summer harvest. We went to the grand opening on Saturday. Rubbed elbows with the neighbors. There was an overwhelming feeling of "it's about time".

I'm not sure how I may concisely summarize the "Field to" part, but i will try. Last year while at a dinner party,RMR Pheasant Terry and Rachel got into a discussion about where our food comes from. Many of us have been having this dialogue for quite awhile- spawned from people like, author Michael Pollan, and movements across the country focused on sustainability and the 'locavore'. But out of their conversation came an idea- "What if we learned how to hunt our food and bring it to the table, and in the process document it on the camera." [that is summarized of course]

Well a year later and they managed to take hunter's safety classes, gun classes, serendipitously found a guide, bought and borrowed gear, went duck-deer-pheasant hunting, cleaned their own birds and rabbit and planned a dinner for twelve to culmintate it all. In the words of Lexie Justice, "Rock On Crouton".

I am celebrating you in every way.June 2008
I miss you beyond reason.

The undertow of grief doesn't seem to ease up.
I am learning to float more.

Having gratitude for the time that your spirit spent with mine.

I love you.

Photo courtesy of Paige Elizabeth

The supper club is not a new concept. However, It is a new addition to the Denver dining scene- we seem to be about two years on the uptake with food trends [cupcake and cereal bars ring a bell]. Phil Armstrong, founder of Hush and a partner at Green Spaces, contacted Terry for some Cook Street assistance with the event. Without hesitation, she agreed. This new partnership did not guarantee us a seat at the table, but we did get on the wait list.

Most of you know my absolute adoration for the stuff. Many of you may argue that it is beyond love, perhaps bordering on obsession. Being from the South, one may think that I was conceived from it, born in a field of grain. That most certainly there is a strain in my DNA directly connected to the brown elixir. Funny thing is, I didn’t really start drinking the stuff until I moved to Colorado. I don’t recall what my poison was when my residence was in Georgia, something clear and clean. But whiskey, conjured up visions of Kappa Deltas putting straws in pints of Jim Beam freshly plucked from the freezer. Whiskey just seemed SO college, and lord knows I didn’t need any reminders of that.

T wanted very much to go out to eat last night. And “nothing cheap,” she interjected.
We invited our friends Nancy and Katie to join us for the evening. Nancy did some power research on options–basically plucking coveted stamens out of Jason Sheehan’s crocus of restaurant reviews. It came down to Firenze a Tavola (the basement at Parisi) or Mel’s Agave Grill.. The Agave was nixed from the list due to its rather unfortunate location: Greenwood Village. So we decided to meet at Parisi at 7:30.

Sitting alone at the outside table at 9:15
On a crisp sunny morning
Kip and I are the only ones stirring in the house
I suppose that means the dinner party was a success
Yesterday we went into Orvieto in the morning
To go fetch some things at the market
Pecorino- young enough to melt on the chili cheese toast
Mozzarella (and not the bland cow crap we eat in the states)
Tomatoes, peppers, cranberry beans, peaches, plums and figs
And bread

17 hours later, through Chicago,
through two accidental security check points
in Frankfurt before I could locate my gate,
I emerge from customs in Rome.
I was to meet up with Nancy and Laura at the rental car counter.
Ended up twenty feet from behind on the moving sidewalk.
Nancy somehow got us upgraded to a Mini Clubman.
We drove north to Orvieto
to meet up with Kip
who then drove us into the countryside
to our residence for the week.
A lovely villa set amongst

So, for any of you that have been living under a double wide for the past few months- forgive me for those of you we just haven't told. Terry and I are setting off tomorrow for 7 glorious days traversing the south–with my parents (Pola and Hayward) in a very large RV–in search of some damn good BBQ.

Well it’s 7:30. We are rolling through the Cherokee National Forest (also part of the Blue Ridge Parkway) heading towards Asheville . The sun is setting on this dense forest- that blue gray green forest- so thick you couldn’t cut it with a pinto bean fart.