Wednesday, July 8, 2009


From 20 hr days at the Beef Barn, having lived the dream of being a short order cook. Festival cooking is no joke, but neither is the Heron. I've never been to a more beautiful place, and for two and half days it was like we were at the only place on earth.

Luckily, we were set up next to the zydeco dance tent. The hours of constant unchanging rhythm drove the small crew of coworkers nuts, but I can't think of better music to work to. And while we wrapped up around 2:30, the dance tent was open until around 6, closing just in time for us to start making breakfast.

Also luckily, Southern Tier had a beer tent right down the way from us. The nectar of NY.

After a few days of that, and a short box truck drive back to Ohio, I'm beat. Energy only to make a little pasta with sausage (Tea Hills), cream (Snowville), chix stock (Plum Creek bird), garlic (Snake Hill), and garden herbs (basil, parsley, and thyme). Pasta wasn't available at the Heron.


DianeS said...

Ha! Glad you survived! I saw Tod at the market and he reminded me that you were of slinging meat. He was all laid back and enjoying the beautiful day at the market and I was thinking how he had it made in the shade while you were probably working like a mad man at the festival.

The CFT said...

That's about right. Tod knows how to live.

maybelle's mom said...

wow you have something exciting to say when you have to write that what I did on my summer vacation essay.

The CFT said...

this is true. you may too, i hear.