Growing Good Eaters

Growing up on a farm in Central PA, I remember each season had its own unique flavor. In the spring, we’d eat mountains of asparagus from our pick-your-own patch. Summertime was filled with berries, tomatoes, corn and homemade pesto. And by fall, we were in the orchard climbing high on ladders with baskets strapped to our chests. Some apples were cooked down in a big cast iron pot until they became a smoky, thick apple butter, while others were loaded up in crates and taken to the local Amish cider press.

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