“It’s become a bit of a game. We sit down and see how much of the meal came from our farmstead.
The best are frittatas. The eggs are ours. The vegetables piled in it are ours. The cheese and cream are the only things that I didn’t produce. (Okay, mental note, try goats again…or a big, fat cow that can’t escape…).
The bread is homemade but I didn’t grow the wheat. (Could I grow wheat here?) Can’t wait until this wine was made here! (I guess I better grow some grapes.) The peaches were not grown here, but were grown locally, and canned by me…”
