Seasons by the Sea: Family Meals at Quail Hill
It began, as no doubt many wonderful things do, At the Common Table. This is the annual dinner served out in the orchard at Quail Hill Farm in Amagansett. The food grown at the farm is transformed by local chefs into a feast for 200 people. There is music; there is no tent. Mother Nature, the senior partner in all growing endeavors, almost always cooperates. Along with various other items for auction was lunch for two prepared by and shared with the Quail Hill farm team. My college friend Mallory won the lunch and invited me along on a late September Wednesday.
It could have been June, July, or August, Mother Nature cooperating again. The Quail Hill apprentices had an extra challenge, besides showing off their culinary skills to someone who had paid for this: Mallory eats a raw vegan diet. This delighted them no end.
We were led out to the orchard where a huge grill had been set up and a table was decorated with late season zinnias. A truck trundled down the hill with platters of every imaginable combination of vegetables, legumes, seeds, and juices. Oh, and there was freshly caught striped bass for fish tacos for the rest of us. The juices were a combination of beets, cantaloupe, peaches, and ginger. There was gazpacho to begin. There were two green salads, one with tatsoi, sweet peppers, and red onion, another with romaine, summer crisp lettuce, fennel, and Swiss chard. A mason jar of Jesse’s wicked good hot pepper sauce waited for those who dared to partake. There was a delicata squash dish with sauteed leeks, caraway, and nutmeg. Spaghetti squash with sunflower nut butter, honey, coriander, cilantro, and ginger. There were more salads, one of shredded beets with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, a carrot slaw, and hemp seeds with brazil nuts, grated squash, and sweet peppers. For dessert, fresh many-hued watermelon slices with Thai basil, lime juice, and honey, along with slices of MacIntosh apples from the trees over our heads, for dipping into the farm’s honey. To say the late season wasps hovering around us were having a drunken bacchanal would be an understatement.
Our talented cooks that day were this year’s farm apprentices, some new, some returning — Layton Guenther, Jesse Schaffer, Morgan Lynn, Ella Fleming, Nick Berini, Brendan McMullan, and Matt Dell. I asked whose idea it was to offer this wonderful lunch as an auction item. “Everyone’s” they said together. Who does most of the cooking each day? “Everyone” came the reply again. This is a good-looking, whip-smart group, and the camaraderie is obvious. One of the Quail Hill members described their work as “glarming,” a clever portmanteau of “glamorous farming.” These kids came up with their own triple portmanteau and call themselves “glarmets,” “glamorous-farmer-gourmets.”
I began to wonder what kind of meals they cooked up for themselves on a regular day, what would be akin to “family meals” in the restaurant world. These are the often slapdash, thrown-together meals eaten quickly before lunch or dinner service begins. They can be anything from dubious leftover fish to pasta, pasta, pasta to more creative international dishes, thanks to always having a great variety of nationalities in our restaurant’s kitchens.
“Could I come back for one of your everyday meals?” I asked. “If you give me some of your apples, I’ll bring a galette for dessert.” Mallory joined in and offered to bring some of her vegan chipotle ice cream with chocolate sauce.
So there we were again, back at Quail Hill a few days later, about to enjoy another freshly harvested, made up on the fly, mostly vegetarian feast. The kitchen is tiny, perched on the top floor of the shop. It is messy, yet organized. The crew moves around each other like professional chefs, performing a little ballet with hot dishes, sharp knives, questions, and tastes, never bumping into each other.
This day’s meal was another wonder. Shakshuka, an Israeli-Tunisian dish of tomatoes, peppers, onions, and spices topped with eggs, is bubbling on the stove. Some recently caught bluefish has been smoked and turned into a salad to go on bread made with Quail Hill wheat. There is a black bean salsa, a gratin of purple and sweet potatoes spiced with curry and cardamom, and more green salads whipped up by Morgan, the free-spirited sprite of the group. It was another warm day and we sat outside the shop. This time we were fortunate to have Scott Chaskey, the grand poobah of Quail Hill, godfather of soul, seeds, poetry, and all things botanical, joining us.
“What is your favorite season?” I ask them. This time of year is the unanimous answer. “What are your favorite foods to make?” Eggplant Parmesan is a favorite. They also love using the farm eggs every which way, there are a lot of frittatas and Spanish omelettes. “What do you do for each other’s birthdays?” Ella is the baker, creating profiteroles and chocolate cakes with salted caramel icing and lemon lavender cakes.
We all agree that these fine young apprentices should write their own cookbook, and they already have a title: “Farmers Forks.”
Some may be back next year, some may not. Brendan originally came to record work songs, Matt is moving upstate to farm, Jesse is going to farm school at University of California Santa Cruz, and Ella hopes to teach farming.
At the end of each meal, as cleanup begins, they spontaneously break into song, “Shake These Bones” being a favorite. Brendan and Layton seem to remember most of the words, but other voices float in and out, as compost is gathered and dishes are washed.
We all enjoyed the apple galette, but Mallory’s ice cream was a revelation of what you can do with raw vegan ingredients. Here are some recipes from the young farmers of Quail Hill, with thanks to them for letting us be a part of what is, truly, a family meal.
Click for recipes