Summer 2019 Editor’s Letter

June is the busiest month of the year in my house.

Between the end-of-school parties and excursions, an anniversary, a birthday and Father’s Day all rolled into one two-week stretch of constant celebration, it’s always a mad dash to get it all done.

Finally, once the library books have been returned and this magazine has been sent off to the printer, we pack the car, load the bikes and head off to Falmouth. It’s our refuge from the world, a chance to escape all the noise, and I feel so fortunate to call that place home even just for a few weeks each year.

But before any of that happens—before stuffies and picnics and gin-and-tonic at sunset—there’s the business of putting an issue together. From recipe testing to photo shoots, editing, proofing and last-minute fact checking, we’re out straight until it’s done.

And while finalizing one issue at a time is always a seasonal challenge, this year we’re doubling down: Beginning this summer and fall we’re test-launching a second magazine, Edible Worcester, to celebrate that city on the rise, an up-and-coming food town if ever we’ve seen one. Not only is Massachusetts’ farming community firmly grounded in the surrounding county, the city proper is welcoming chefs and food entrepreneurs at a steady clip. If these test issues do what we think they will, and the community sees value in having its very own Edible with unique Worcester-centric content, we’ll forge ahead and make it official.

Meanwhile, in this Boston-based issue, we’ve got a little something for everyone to enjoy. Our newly expanded Edible Food Finds section features 10 small businesses you’re going to want to check out—from mini pies and cupcakes to high-octane fruit spirits, grab-and-go Japanese-style nori-rice snacks, a cotton candy catering cart for all your pretty parties, an app connecting discounted excess restaurant food with patrons looking to save a meal from the landfill, a beekeeper’s artistry, a beat poet’s dream bookstore-cum-juicebar in Worcester, two different artisan sauce makers and a fresh packaged hummus for all your summertime snacking.

Our recipes this season feature the lovely and talented Béatrice Peltre and her adorable enfants as she reminisces on her French countryside childhood and the recipes she’s passing on to the next generation. Rachel Caldwell brings you a treasure trove of light, refreshing melon dishes for that short window when the heady scent of local melons makes them irresistible at the farmers market. And my own piece—a collection of dips and spreads made especially for crudité dunking and grilled bread smearing—will get you through at least a few too-hot-to-cook summer nights.

Shelby Larsson and Steve Holt bring us two very different studies of urban farming: one based on an 18th-century property in Mattapan and the other a community effort to keep at least one little corner of East Boston green. Andrea Pyenson ventured to Milford and sidled up to the bar at Massachusetts’ only 100%-women-owned brewery, and Tara Taft discovered two unique pet treat businesses working to delight our four-legged friends and reduce food waste at the same time.

Give Michael Floreak’s piece on the Green Crab Project a careful read: The crabs on our cover, as cute as they may be, are an invasive species decimating eel grass and estuaries all along the Atlantic shoreline and the best way to control their population is to EAT them, so look for a fishmonger or chef doing their part by bringing this delicious seafood to market. But if crabs aren’t your thing, you can learn more about plant-based eating and vegan cooking through Nina Livingstone’s thoughtful Q+A with Whole Heart Provisions chef Rebecca Arnold.

Last but not least, stay tuned for the release of our very first video, Edible Boston: Behind the Issue. All spring we’ve been working to go further in depth on the subject of local squid, our cover story from last season, and we think you’re going to love it.

Above all, we hope you get out into nature and enjoy these fleeting summer months. As every New Englander knows, they’ll be gone too soon.

Peace,

Sarah Blackburn