Fifteen years ago, in the summer of 2006, Ilene Bezahler published the very first issue of Edible Boston.

It was 44 pages long, with a stapled bind, full of stories on farmers markets, ice cream parlors, wild foraging, a Carlisle goat dairy and sustainable veal; on the cover was a simple wire basket, filled neatly with pale blue Araucana eggs. There were recipes for striped bass with clams and a summer berry pudding, a pair of tomato dishes and an onion-fennel-beet tarte tatin; there was even a day trip travelogue of Westport’s culinary delights written by Mary-Catherine Deibel, co-owner of the dearly departed Upstairs on the Square, a big-name local luminary, then as now.

With the farm-to-table movement still in its early days, Ilene knew the importance of introducing readers to the people behind the food on their plates—and how cooking with the ingredients they produced could help create an influential community around locally grown food in Greater Boston.

Tracey Ryder, co-founder of Edible Communities, welcomed the newest publication to what was then a small (but growing) network of regional food magazines. At the time there were 16 titles nationwide; today, there are over 80 spanning the United States and Canada.

Tracey echoed Ilene’s debut letter in that issue with a greeting: “So welcome to the table, Boston—we’re happy to be here at the heart of America’s first revolution, and together we can share the heart of another—where we all get to eat straight out of our collective gardens again. Now go ahead, taste your community.” A timeless statement, to be sure.

That same summer, Chris and I had a toddler and another baby on the way. I was working part time for Siena Farms, helping Farmer Chris staff his stand a few days a week in his very first season at the Copley Square Farmers Market, becoming less and less helpful as my pregnancy progressed. When Edible Boston made its way to our stand that summer it was like a revelation: This magazine was written for me, I thought. These are my people. I picked up every issue, every season, read each one cover to cover and saved them. They’re still on my shelves over a decade later.

Looking back on those first few issues—produced years before I found the nerve to call Ilene and beg her for a job—I see so many similarities to what we’re doing now. Fifteen years on and we’re still promoting local food entrepreneurs and offering seasonal recipes; we still explain complicated food policy issues, food access and food insecurity; what it means to farm sustainably; why a pastured chicken costs $20 when even a high-end supermarket bird goes for less than half that. By the time I arrived at the magazine in 2010, Michael Piazza had used his designer’s eye and ace photography to further elevate the style and grace Ilene had debuted, making Edible Boston a sought-after publication even in its infancy. We’re incredibly lucky to have him with us still, and Ilene doing our layout from afar.

In those early years, Ilene forged meaningful relationships with local food businesses, too, many of whom have been advertising with us on and off ever since. It is with the utmost gratitude that I list this collection of our longest supporters, the advertisers who were there in 2006 and ’07 and are still with us today: Shout out to Allandale Farm, Boston University, Carlson Orchards, Clear Flour Bakery, Crescent Ridge, Fancypants Baking Co., Kitchen Outfitters, Russell Orchards, Russo’s, Season to Taste and Verrill Farm. And to our community of readers, advertising partners, contributors, photographers and incredible staff who have supported us through the years: You are why we are still here today, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

The Edible Boston and Edible Worcester communities have grown and changed a lot over the past decade and a half; access to local food has expanded and interest in sustainable, healthy food has permeated our culture, but there is still so much work to be done. And while COVID may have nudged savvy entrepreneurs to build new systems bringing local food to more tables around the Commonwealth, they’ll need our (collective) help to stay solvent post-pandemic. It’s an interconnected community, perfectly reflected in this issue. When Chris and I took over the magazines we committed to expanding their reach, increasing diversity and inclusivity; we strive to add new voices, perspectives and lived experience on these pages, but we’re just at the very beginning. Follow the common threads throughout this season’s stories and you’ll find passionate people doing what they love for the common good. Please support them as they grow!

So as I kick off my summer—fully-vaxxed and raring to go—I raise my glass to you. Here’s to 15 more. Now go ahead—taste your community.

Peace,

Sarah Blackburn