Peter Dykeman and I are strolling through a sunny field in Rhinebeck looking for food – not garden crops, for which it is far too early, but edible wild plants. I’m expecting that the search will be difficult, somewhat capricious, like the morels that I recently harvested in a local forest (the mushrooms like elms, but cannot always be found under the trees). So it’s a surprise when he gestures towards a weedy bank, parts the thick foliage and cuts the stalk of a fresh shoot of leaves.

It’s a young pokeweed – the plant that later bears drooping, poisonous black berries on a red stalk. But it turns out the plant’s stem is edible: Dykeman peels off the green rind with a knife to reveal the tender white core, which can boiled in several changes of water and eaten. Dykeman cautions that the stem can only be eaten when it’s white, and never should be ingested raw. But otherwise, it’s a scrumptious food.

Another common weed, burdock, whose burrs attach themselves to your pants in the fall, is also edible. In the summer, the young flowerstalks of burdock can be peeled and the white core sliced into salads like celery or cooked in a casserole, he said. The roots of first-year plants can be dug up and peeled, sliced and boiled for 20 minutes until tender. The burdock, it turns out, is a veritable banquet.

A moment later, after peering around, Dykeman picks a leaf off a spindly white-flowered plant that grows everywhere: garlic mustard. (I think of it as a pestilent invasive.) He crushes the leaf in his fingers, sniffs it and offers it to me; the sharp garlicky taste of the tender green would definitely add zest to a salad. Dykeman also likes it on hot dogs.

If you were marooned in this field, unable to leave and without any snacks packed in your backpack, you could survive, so plentiful are the green edible things to be found here. You would need to have the guidebook that Peter Dykeman wrote with Thomas Elias – Field Guide to North American Edible Wild Plants, which was published in 1982 and is still in print, under the title Edible Wild Plants: A north American Field Guide – to know what to eat, because some plants are toxic and many others are either inedible or just not that tasty.

Timing is key: harvesting leaves, for example, when they are young and tender. Each edible plant yields up its harvest – be it leaf, stalk, flower, tuber, fruit, seed or sap – in the carefully calibrated round of the seasons, starting with the tapping of sugar maple trees in early March and ending with the gathering of black walnut nuts and smooth or staghorn sumac clusters in the fall.

“If you’re too lazy to do a garden, plow it up and leave it, and things that are edible will grow, such as purslane, lambs’ quarters and garlic mustard,” Dykeman said. The edges of ponds or wetlands are particularly productive; he points to a stand of cattails, which offers a wealth of food. He pulls up a young stalk and peels off the rind. The succulent core, white and pale green like a leek and known as “Cossacks’ asparagus,” is toothsome and delicious, juicy as a piece of sugarcane and with a mellow flavor, similar to celery.

When the young cattails emerge, one can cut them off when they are as big as a finger and still in their papery sheaths. Boiled, buttered and seasoned, they can be eaten like a corncob, filled with tiny kernels, Dykeman said. You can also shake out the pollen from the maturing flowering stalk, which “is very rich and high in calories” when mixed with flour, he said. Finally, the small sprouts that form on the roots in early spring can be dug up and eaten raw or cooked; the roots themselves, from the fall to early spring, can be washed, peeled and pounded into flour. “It’s one of my favorites,” he said.

Dykeman, who never goes out into the field without a small knife, digging tool and bag, earned a PhD in Environmental Education at Cornell University and started the educational program at Millbrook’s Cary Arboretum in 1973. The Arboretum, predecessor of today’s Cary Institute for Ecosystem Studies, acquired seeds from all over the world to increase the diversity of trees and shrubs that could be grown in this area. The director was Thomas Elias, who had written field guides on trees and shrubs. Elias was asked by Time Mirror Books to write a book on edible plants. Euell Gibbons’ classic Stalking the Wild Asparagus had been a hit, and Time Mirror wanted to cash in on the enthusiasm that it had generated. Elias recruited Dykeman as co-author, covering the collection and use of the plants.

Dykeman had been interested in trees since attending high school in Pawling and learned about edible plants while studying with Dr. Richard Fischer at Cornell in the 1970s. “Environmental Studies were big back then,” he said, noting that school districts in New York State were planning to add Environmental Education to their curriculum. Sadly, it didn’t happen. Today, “People are asleep. They’re not reacting to environmental problems like climate change. There’s so much money available to deny climate change and toxicity in foods; the only funds available for counteracting these problems come from donations.”

Heading into the countryside to forage for wild edible foods is a wonderful way to reconnect with nature and a culinary adventure. The art of harvesting wild plants is all about “knowing where they are and when they are ready,” said Dykeman. Some are native and others, like the garlic mustard, dandelion and Japanese knotweed, are invasive. (Japanese knotweed in particular is a harmful invasive, since it produces an inhibitor in the soil that keeps other plants from growing, so the more of this plant that people can harvest, the better.)

Many native plants were integral to the diet of Native Americans (although in the Northeast, most tribes were reliant on agriculture at the time of contact, according to Edible Wild Plants). But Dykeman noted that the early colonists also relied on wild plants, bringing over some of the invasives as food. “The foreigners, particularly the Italians, used a lot of edible wild plants and learned which native ones you could eat,” he said.

One must exercise care in the field, however, since some plants, native or invasive, are toxic. Dykeman and Elias emphasize at the beginning of their book the necessity of adhering to the rule “When in doubt, leave the plant out.” On the other hand, some plants that are toxic are edible in part. Dykeman said that he had gotten some flak from a few readers for including pokeweed in the Field Guide. But the white stalk of the young shoot, which as noted is edible, has a long culinary history, having been collected by the Colonial settlers for use in salads, he noted. The pokeweed stalk should be boiled in several changes of water until tender, then served with butter and seasoning, as you would asparagus or broccoli. Don’t harvest it if it has a purple coloration, and be sure to avoid the root! His book also describes how the shoots can be cultivated by digging up the root in the fall and replanting it in a pot on the windowsill.

The fruit of the May apple, a prolific plant in the woods and shaded roadsides, is lemony-colored, smaller than an egg and practically falls into your hand when ripe. However, the unripe fruit and other parts of the plant contain the poison podophyllin, so one must take care when collecting the fruit, Dykeman said.

He also warns against hunting for edible plants along a busy road, since the residue of rock salt, oil and gas can concentrate in the soil. Dirt roads are okay. “In June along a lightly traveled dirt road, you may want to cut poke or asparagus shoots, or pick common day lily buds,” notes the guidebook. “In fall, you might dig for Jerusalem artichokes or common day lily tubers.”

Areas disturbed by bulldozers or plows, pesticide-free lawns, old fields and forest edges are ideal for foraging. Earlier in the spring, “a field like this” would yield an embarrassment of dandelion riches, Dykeman said: The tender young sour-tasting leaves are delicious in a salad, and the flowers can be pressed into wine or dipped in batter and deep-fried. The delectable fiddleheads of ostrich ferns would likely be found along the forest edge. On our excursion, Dykeman located some cinnamon ferns, whose hairiness makes their fiddleheads less palatable, and noted that the ostrich fern can be identified by the groove in its stalk.

Dykeman also located a clump of broadleaf dock, whose young leaves taste like beet greens when sautéed in butter. The young leaves of chicory – the ubiquitous roadside plant with the blue flowers – are also good in salad, Dykeman said. Plantains – the thin, knotty grass stalks known as “white man’s footprint,” because they sprang up wherever the European settlers went – also have edible leaves, which are thin and oval, though they’re best as filler (and should not be harvested when the stem is stringy).

Other plentiful local wild edible plants are milkweed (after the flowers bloom, boil the small pods, which will become bright green) and day lilies. You can pick the day lily’s tubers from the roots (the plant can be flopped back into the soil) and boil them like potatoes; boil the buds in a couple of changes of water; and drop the flowers, which are gelatinous, into a soup or stew to thicken it. One caution: When eating a new food, go easy at first. Sometimes it takes a little getting used to by the digestive system, Dykeman said, noting that when one neophyte couple collected dozens of day lily buds and cooked them up in a big pot, the food “went right through them.”

Spicebush, a woodland bush with fragrant yellow flowers in early spring and leaves that when crushed smell lemony, produces small red berries that can be chopped up and used as a spice on meat. Jewelweed, whose orange or yellow flowers proliferate along roadsides and waste areas in summer, has edible leaves and stems when boiled. The juice of the stem also helps stop the itching of a poison ivy rash, said Dykeman.

The summer produces a wealth of fruits: Besides raspberries, blueberries and blackberries, consider wineberries, which grow on long, arching amber stalks with tiny salmon-colored bristles, and tiny black elderberries, which are less sweet but delicious when mixed in with other berries or made into jelly or juice (squish them, heat and strain out the juice). The trick is to harvest them before the birds get to them. Dykeman said that he particularly likes black cherries, which are very sweet and pea-sized; they are best harvested by spreading a tarp underneath the tree and shaking the branches.

Also in the fall, look for the red clustered fruits of staghorn or smooth sumac, which make a delicious tea: Pick off the clumps and place in a pitcher, pour boiling water over them and let steep, then add sugar or honey, for a drink that tastes like lemonade.

Another fall delicacy is black walnuts, provided you can pry them out of their tough green pods. When cracking them with a hammer, always hit the nut from above to keep it intact, Dykeman said. Black walnuts are much harder to crack than shagbark hickory nuts, which are also edible, but well worth the effort. Dykeman said that it’s even possible to harvest the acorns from white or chestnut oaks (but not red oaks). Pour boiling water over the acorns until the water runs clear, chop and mix with flour.

His guidebook, which is organized by season, lists the habitat, identifying features, harvest and preparation for each species, as well as any poisonous lookalikes, for more than 200 plants. It continues to be the must-have guide, and the only thing that Dykeman said that he would change is to print the few photos that are in black-and-white in color (it was a cost-saving measure back in the days of the old printing presses that he said was no longer relevant, but he has yet to persuade the publisher). The latest edition is in paperback and published by Sterling Publishers. So pick up a copy and start discovering the new world of flavor found in the weeds, shrubs and trees just beyond your doorstep.

Genteel Charleston is a small Southern seaside city known not just for its turbulent history, vibrant arts scene and quirky culture, but also for a luscious cuisine that respects the past while not afraid to innovate it. Years ago I recall wandering for hours with my two small kids in their double stroller along Charleston’s streets lined with rainbow-hued rowhouses and Antebellum mansions, by gardens rimmed with magnolias and live oaks spun with Spanish moss. We ran in the sand on its little island beaches flecked with seabirds and steeped in ancient cultures. But I fell hardest in love with its food – at oyster shacks, in places like Hank’s seafood restaurant and Hominy Grill. Since then I order Carolina grits and rice online; I cook with greens or okra or crab every chance I get, trying to recapture it all somehow.

Fortunately, cookbook authors Matt Lee and Ted Lee are bringing the soul – and the food – of Charleston to Rhinebeck. With two appearances on Saturday, June 8 – at the Country Living Fair at the Dutchess County Fairgrounds and at Bluecashew Kitchen Pharmacy in Rhinebeck – the Lee brothers, who also founded the Lee Bros. Boiled Peanut Company, will bring us Hudson Valley folk some tastes of South Carolina classics like the iconic Lowcountry dish shrimp and grits and a peppery cheese spread à la Henry’s from a mid-20th-century brasserie.

The multiple-award-winning brothers Lee grew up in the Southern city and soaked up its unique foodways along the way. In their new book The Lee Bros. Charleston Kitchen (Clarkson Potter), they follow home cooks past and present, a shrimp boat captain, farmers, chefs, eccentrics and even funeral directors in search of dishes – a hundred of them, plus 75 photographs and driving and walking maps.

“In our new book we return to the place where we grew up, the place we know best,” Ted Lee told me, “to tell stories about the people who cultivate, catch and cook food in Charleston and who make our cooking lives here so enjoyable.”

The book begins with preparations for an oyster roast, a common Lowcountry event as ubiquitous as our community chicken barbecues. As they go on, they collect stories, tales and examples of Charleston’s spirit. The Lee brothers are not ashamed to show us how to cook green beans much longer than is fashionable, and with swine, and why. They offer the classic sesame biscuits called benne wafers in both sweet and savory versions.

They give us Lowcountry Gumbo, She-Crab Soup, Hoppin’ John (a classic black-eyed pea dish), Deviled Crab, Pan-Roasted Okra, Corn and Tomatoes, Fried Chicken with Fried Chicken Gravy and Huguenot Torte; but you’ll also find intriguing Muscadine Sangria, Lowcountry Limoncello, Shrimp Popovers, Pickled Shrimp with Fennel, Butterbeans with Butter, Mint and Lime, Cornmeal-Crusted Mahi with Jerusalem Artichoke Tartar Sauce and Mulberry-Glazed Venison Loin, to follow with sweets like Grapefruit Chess Pie or Syllabub with Rosemary-Glazed Figs.

“We’ve been collaborating as food and travel journalists and cookbook authors for almost 15 years now,” Ted Lee told me. I recall their entertaining pieces in The New York Times back then, and they’ve since become contributing editors for Travel & Leisure magazine. Their first cookbook was The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook (W. W. Norton, 2006), which not only got a spot on many “Best Book” lists, but also won James Beard Awards for Cookbook of the Year and Cooking of the Americas, plus the American Cooking and Julia Child awards from the International Association of Culinary Professionals. “It highlighted the diversity of Southern cooking from region to region: how differently people eat from place to place as you travel around the South,” explained Ted.

They followed that book in 2009 with The Lee Bros. Simple Fresh Southern (Clarkson Potter). “In that one, we shared our favorite family recipes for easy weeknight meals with loads of Southern flavor.”

Asked how the two brothers collaborate, Ted explained, “As far as the writing goes, we’re both writers and we’re both editors, so whatever the project – whether it’s the head notes for the recipes in a cookbook or a travel story about eating around the North Fork of Long Island – one of us will begin writing, and when we get to a point where we need input, we pass off the manuscript to the other brother, who will edit what’s there and then continue writing. We may pass the manuscript back and forth many times before we’ve settled on a first draft.

“When we’re developing the recipes themselves, however, we tend to be more strictly collaborative, in the sense that we’re both working on the recipes in the same kitchen in real time. When we’re in the test kitchen, it’s really important for us to work together meticulously and methodically. We both have our laptops open, recording everything that we’re doing in real time, with particular attention paid to time, to measurements. In the test kitchen, it’s just us and our assistant, because we can’t afford to be distracted by anything!”

Ted said that he and his brother are excited about the upcoming events in Rhinebeck. Not only is their father’s family from the Yorktown Heights area, he added, but Matt and his family also escape Charleston’s summer heat and humidity by spending summers at their house in Coxsackie.

The Lee brothers’ Rhinebeck visit begins with cooking demonstrations at the three-day Country Living Fair from June 7 to 9 at the Dutchess County Fairgrounds on Route 9. The festival will offer seminars, antiques, art, artisan demonstrations and home décor. At 3 p.m. on Saturday, June 8, Matt Lee and Ted Lee will prepare three dishes from The Lee Bros. Charleston Kitchen, followed by a book-signing at 4 p.m. Then they’re off to bluecashew at 6423 Montgomery Street, also in Rhinebeck, from 5 to 7 p.m., where they will sign books and serve boiled peanuts, the classic Southern treat for which they are also famous (www.boiledpeanuts.com), plus Henry’s Cheese Spread, with cocktails from Creme Yvette.

Retiring IBM software engineer Craig Henkle opened TheGreenSpace in the Rondout District of Kingston about six months ago. The small shop sells high-quality food and drink, with every item available something that was produced in New York State.

The one-man operation is currently open afternoons only, from about 12 noon to 6 p.m., because Henkle is still working half-days at IBM. By the end of the year he’ll retire, and in 2014 he plans to increase the store’s opening hours when he’ll have the time – although he does plan to continue to run the store solo. “Yes, because simplicity is key for me,” he says. “I want this to be simple and straightforward.”

Henkle originally wanted to open a magazine store and newsstand at the site featuring environmentally oriented publications. He has run a bookstore in the past, and enjoys that business. Ultimately he decided not to try to compete with booksellers on the Internet, and with an interest in buying and selling locally produced foods, decided instead to open TheGreenSpace to build upon that.

“I recently started getting in a lot of hot sauces,” says Henkle. “It seems to be a popular item. I have over 30 different kinds right now.” Most of the hot sauces he carries are lower on the Scoville scale (the measurement of the heat of chili peppers) – “quite palatable,” he says – but he did get in a few small bottles of superhot varieties Night of Hell and Bad Blood, which are “not the type you take teaspoonfuls of,” according to Henkle.

The merchandise in his shop is often from producers who are members of Pride of New York, a program developed by the Department of Agriculture to promote New York farmers, retailers, restaurants and related culinary interests. Henkle is a member himself.

At this time most of the products he sells are “shelf-stable”: products such as granolas, salsas, sauces, dried fruits and nuts, chocolates and coffee. Henkle says that as he moves into full-time hours next year, he’ll probably stock additional fresh items, and perhaps even make his own products. For now, TheGreenSpace features enticing edibles such as North Fork Potato Chips, produced in Cutchogue; Organic Nectars’ Cashewtopia Gelato, created in Malden; Harney & Sons’ Organic Iced Tea, made in Millerton; and Bruce Cost’s Fresh Ginger Ale, produced in Brooklyn.

Henkle says that although he’s a specialty retailer, his prices aren’t high, and in fact he can beat the bigger stores on many items because he buys directly from the producer.

For more information, visit www.shopthegreenspace.com, e-mail shopkeeper@shopthegreenspace.com or call (845) 417-7178.

I was back in Texas for a funeral. The cemetery is out on what I call “the old home place,” the family farm. My cousin Neil farms it, but it is mostly raw land now. We talked about farming: what he is putting in and why, what he thinks he will get out of it.

Most of the farms in his area are big, 500 to 2,000 acres, and isolated from major urban areas. An acre is about the size of a football field if you cut out both end zones. When I asked him why farms in his area are so big, he had an answer: “Small farmers can hardly make it out in the rural areas as truck farmers. Way back when, they could; but we were just feeding the local area or maybe the state. Now we are feeding the world.” Farms are big because farming has become big business.

The Hudson Valley on both sides of the river is awash in small farms, some 5,300. Dutchess County contains some 650 farms, Ulster about 500. By some estimates the total acreage is over 659,000 acres in the Valley area; yet farms and acreage are declining. The average Hudson Valley farm is estimated to be about 150 acres, with some as small as a couple of acres and some as big as 2,000 acres. Farmers have cattle, ducks, chickens, goats, sheep and a wide variety of crops: vegetables, corn, lettuces, berries and of course apples. Dairy farming and apple production are still the kings in the Valley.

If farming is such big business – if farms are getting bigger, yet we are losing farms – why do we have so many small farms, and what are they doing? Whom does the Hudson Valley feed, and how do they do it? I decided to investigate.

For my investigation I spoke to Cornell, studied material from the International Federation of Organic Agriculture Movements, read reports from Glynwood and the Farm Bureau; but mostly I talked to farmers. I purposely eliminated the apple-growers so I could concentrate on small operations. I visited ten small operations, and spoke to more. I wanted to know what they were doing, how are they surviving, what innovations are occurring, what are the big challenges and what does the future hold. What I found out could supply more than I can put into one article. All in all, the state of agriculture in the Hudson Valley is quite healthy.

What is a farm?

Farms are businesses that use land to produce a marketable product that the farmer can sell at a profit. The farm business is a low-margin business. After taxes, a farmer, if he or she has done everything perfectly, will take home six cents on every dollar. Should anything go wrong, that margin is wiped out. Six cents on a dollar does not leave much room for error.

The state of New York once stated that farms had to be a minimum of ten acres and generate a minimum of $10,000. Now it is one acre and $1,000, yet we still see farms go under.

Challenges

The challenges are well-known: weather, crop failure, pests. It truly is a gamble, and it is tough to find financing. Money drives everything, including land acquisition.

Some farmers, like Ray McEnroe, were born into a family who farmed. His farm was already established, but he still had to purchase it from his parents. Without the advantage of family-owned property, he told me, it would be impossible to start today.

He is right: Farms now sell at an average of $17,000 per acre. With a 100-acre farm, the investment in land only is $1,700,000. A ten-acre farm costs $170,000. This does not include the buildings, operating capital, machinery, seed or feed. How many banks will fund a $170,000 mortgage, plus another $100,000, on a business that might not make it one year? That is why much of the land formerly used for agriculture is now being developed for residential use, with subdivisions and “estates” replacing the farm.

In addition to the financing issue, some current small farms are pieces of former large farms that the current operator has revived and put back into production. That is no easy proposition, financially and practically. Jay Armour at Four Winds in Gardiner said that when he and his wife Polly bought their farm – a former dairy farm that was no longer producing – they needed to begin from scratch, weeding and working just to get the land into plantable condition. Ten years later, they now have a 24-acre farm, with four acres growing vegetables organically.

Another challenge that farmers face is the retail market. Retail markets are driven by consumers. Consumers will only pay for things within a small range. Consumers will buy broccoli at $1.69 per pound but not at $4, asparagus at $1.99 per pound but not $5. So at $2 per pound to the consumer, a retailer needs to make some profit, and will buy it from a distributor for, say, $1.75 per pound. A distributor will purchase it from a wholesaler at $1.25 per pound, and a wholesaler from the farmer at 75 cents per pound. This price difference from farmer to consumer is called the retail spread, and a farmer selling produce gets a percentage of the spread. Sometimes it is as little as 20 percent. Often it is not profitable for a small farmer to sell to a distributor, as the purchase price is under his production price and he cannot grow enough to make it profitable: an economy-of-scale problem.

What do they grow?

Large farms may focus on a single crop, sometimes under contract, specializing and gaining an economy of scale. Small farms diversify. Pete Taliaferro of New Paltz told me that he grows a variety of crops and looks for new things all the time. Norm Greig of Red Hook told me that he is constantly seeking new items that his customers will want: “Everybody does pretty much the same stuff, so you have to look for new things that maybe your customers don’t know about.” Product diversity is a key.

Farmers are innovators. In Dutchess County, McEnroe Farms use their organic composting operations and their organic heirloom tomatoes to fund many of their other operations. Some of the farmers have been forced to find value-added products. Sprout Creek Farms have one of the most unusual value-added propositions. Margo Morris had a small herd of cows when she bought a farm just outside of Poughkeepsie. With the help of a benefactor, she went into the cheese business with her cows, and now 72 milking goats. Her cheeses are sold in New York City and are prized as far away as San Francisco.

Not all the innovations are in product. Ray Bradley uses his pigs to help him take care of the land, rotating his crops yearly to land on which his pigs lived the year before. The Armours use “no-till” planting and have tripled their yield. Innovation is a key.

More and more farmers are selling seedlings. Farmers, saving seeds or buying them in bulk, start seedlings in greenhouses and sell them to customers, who use them in their own gardens. Four Winds and Bradley Farms count on that cash infusion yearly to fund other parts of their business.

Others have started CSAs: Community-Supported Agriculture. By selling shares or portions, the farmer gains capital and support. The products are harvested, and each purchaser is given a share of whatever products are ripe, picked and available.

Solutions

With these and other challenges in mind, what is the future for farming in the Hudson Valley? Farmers are not of one mind, but some important trends seem clear. Product diversity, signature products, niche marketing and specialty retailing all seem to contribute to success. Most importantly, agricultural literacy must improve. People, especially urban residents, need to regain a connection to the farm that produces their food. Farmland also needs protection. Many farms in Orange and Dutchess Counties are taxed at the same rate as residential developments. Heavy taxation helps drive the farmer from the land.

What can you do?

There is a growing movement in California, Virginia, New York, Vermont and many other states supporting local agriculture. The movement is as much about food safety and food health as anything. If you know your local farmers, you know what they are doing to their land, how they are managing the pests, what is sprayed and what is not. You can be relatively certain that a local product or crop is wholesome, without added chemicals or materials. You can be confident that the nutritional value is as good as or better than conventionally produced products. You might pay more, but the quality level and nutritional value of the product are worth it.

Join a CSA. The CSA will provide you with a share of the available harvested products weekly. The variety depends on the farm.

Buy from a farm market. Farm markets are usually, but not always, controlled by the farmer who produced the products. Many farm markets buy from other local farmers to supplement their product offerings. I have seen some unscrupulous farm markets buy a national or imported product and market it as local or their own; do your research.

Lastly, become literate about the food you eat and where it originates. Years ago I asked my now-27-year-old son where food came from. He looked and smiled and said, “From the grocery store.” It doesn’t.

Local Farms

These are the fine farmers who took time to answer their e-mail, speak to me or let me come out to their farm; they deserve your support.

Blooming Hill Farm www.bloominghillfarm.com (845) 782-7310

Bradley Farm http://raybradleyfarm.com (845) 255-8769

Dykeman Farm www.dykemanfarm.com (845) 832-6068

Farm at Miller’s Crossing www.farmatmillerscrossing.com (518) 851-2331

Greig Farm www.greigfarm.com (845) 758-1234

Hepworth Farms www.hepworthfarms.com (845) 795-2007

Markristo Farm www.markristofarm.com (518) 325-4261

La Bella Pasta tastes like homemade, but it’s a whole lot easier – Jennifer Brizzi

Few would disagree that there’s nothing like pasta for something to get on the table quickly and easily. Pleasing to most of the finicky among us, pasta is endlessly versatile, coming in what seem like a zillion shapes, forms and textures. It is part of every good cook’s repertoire, from the traditionalist to the most creative. It belongs in every pantry.

                But for a new twist on the ubiquitous dried pasta, there’s the fresh kind, made of semolina and/or flour and egg and little else. It’s fun to make at home, pleasingly tender to the tooth and quicker to cook than the classic dry. Last week I used my old pasta machine to make some tagliatelle, the dough a lively green with minced boiled nettles, and it was lovely but it took some time: in the “project” category of dinners. What if you could just buy some fresh pasta made locally with real Italian machines and be dining in five minutes?

                Since 1986, La Bella Pasta of Kingston has been making fresh pasta for restaurants and food shops, according to techniques that owner Nanci Covello learned from her grandmother. It has an ever-evolving variety, from the popular, kid-friendly four-cheese ravioli (parmesan, Romano, mozzarella and ricotta) to jalapeño tortellini and more. Ravioli was its original product, and it now also creates a variety of pasta shapes, stuffed and non-, in myriad flavors and fillings, and most recently sumptuous gnocchi (more on those in a bit).

                Nanci’s Mom Maria owns Maria’s Bazar in Woodstock and used to make fresh pasta for her customers, until she got too busy running the shop to do so. Luckily for her – and the rest of us – Nanci took over and opened her own enterprise, with help from family. Her father and husband traveled to Italy and brought back several machines that would deftly cut and fill many different kinds of pasta. No assembly line here; these machines, each one with its own special talent, live in an airy space beneath the Route 28 shop. They are shorter than I am and barely wider, spic-and-span and efficient at creating perfect pieces of pasta.

                Fortunately, at the time the dollar was strong, and the Covellos got a great deal on buying them and having them shipped, Nanci says. And luckier still is having Nanci’s husband on hand, with his outstanding mechanical ability. He can do all repairs in-house, when otherwise finding experts for the specialized imported equipment would be challenging at best.

                The day I visited, a friendly and patient young assistant was painstakingly rolling tubes of manicotti with cheese filling. Upstairs in the shop, there are a few lovely little tabletop antique pasta machines that resemble the modern kind a bit, but with a charming retro look. I loved the ancient black one.

                A ravioli made with spinach dough and a spinach filling is always on hand, as is the lobster-stuffed ravioli, and of course the four-cheese, which Nanci’s daughter Bianca and her friends love to fry in oil rather than boil, sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar and eat in great quantity, reports Nanci. Other flavors, which are in rotation and available for restaurants, are roasted red pepper with gorgonzola, roasted garlic, asparagus and mascarpone cheese, smoked salmon and cheese, seafood (lobster, crab, shrimp and ricotta), grilled eggplant and cheese, pumpkin and ricotta, porcini mushroom, pesto, sun-dried tomato, jalapeño/cheddar, black bean with pepper jack cheese (Nanci recommends frying that one and dipping in salsa) and whole wheat with spinach. Three of the fillings sometimes available are vegan, without cheese or egg: a chickpea, a sweet potato and a vegetable.

                Always on hand are three kinds of tortellini: cheese, spinach and tri-color. Other flavors can be special-ordered: black bean, jalapeño or speckled herb. Regulars are lasagna sheets (no pre-boiling needed) as well as fettuccini, linguini and tagliatelle, with other specials special-orderable: spinach lasagna and manicotti sheets, spaghetti, rigati, capellini, lumache and spirals.

                What would fresh pasta be without an array of colorful flavorings to make it even more exciting? You’ll usually find the classic spinach, but also available in rotation or for restaurants are pastas flecked with black bean, tomato basil, three-pepper, speckled herbs, sun-dried tomato, lemon pepper, pumpkin, roasted red pepper, porcini mushroom or squid ink, as well as a whole wheat variety and tri-color spirals. Sometimes they make cavatellini with ricotta, perhaps adding spinach as well.

                The newest machine in the arsenal downstairs is a gnocchi machine that rolls dainty puffs of dough and scores them to create perfect little ridges for collecting sauce. I boiled some of the plain potato ones and tossed them with sage butter and parm. These toothsome pillows were heavenly and addictive. Other kinds that Nanci and her helpers sometimes make are versions with spinach, herbs or ricotta added, plus sweet potato and pumpkin varieties.

                In the shop you’ll also find a house-made marinara sweetened with carrots rather than sugar, plus sauces of porcini, roasted red pepper and a pesto. Cheeses and pizza dough are for sale, too.

                La Bella Pasta’s pastas are made fresh daily with no preservatives, so the 12-ounce packages have expiration dates. However, they do freeze well. Nanci donates extras to Kingston’s Queens Galley and other charitable organizations.

Saffron rice pudding and Pad Thai impress at Café East, Uptown Kingston’s newest eatery – Megan Labrise

 It’s unfair to review a restaurant less than a month after opening. It forces you to say something priggish like, “I must note that they were out of the kimchee omelet,” when of course they’re going to be out of the damn omelet! No new restaurateur knows what the scene is going to be. Will the people come? Will they kimchee? It must be terrifying to open a new restaurant.

                Deena Rae Turner and Daniel Gilhuly have got a lot of nerve. The couple just launched Café East, Uptown Kingston’s newest breakfast and lunch joint, at 243 Fair Street, across from the County Office Building in the space once occupied by Ashley’s Café. It’s the kind of stumble-in, short-order diner that compels one to come in and set a spell, but the fare has got a twist. Turner’s cooking background is in classic French takeaway, so you’ve got your Julienned Carrots, all right, but they’re pickled for Bánh Mì. French and Asian influence with American soul: The “s” in “East” is slightly elevated in print, leaving “EAT,” a nod to all those Art Deco diners dotting Eisenhower’s interstates.

                Turner started out last year with a Woodstock food cart, East, that in one memorable hour cranked out 38 orders of Pad Thai and a torrent of tacos. The sweet success led her and Gilhuly to seek a set space in Saugerties or Red Hook, but Kingston proved the perfect fit. Their happy spot right across from the DMV balances the feng shui of Fair Street. Inside it’s inviting, with rich navy-blue walls and a bluestone counter set against a sea of silver textured metallic panels and the great gray hood hiding powerful fans over a griddle and stove. Classic stools, sticking up in a line like typewriter keys, are topped in bright red. There’s table seating, too, indoors and out on the sidewalk.

                But you want to be inside, where the action is. Turner, with hair tied back and patterned apron tied at waist, comports herself with that winning North Carolinian combination of mystery and manners, segueing from agitating a stovetop wok to making easy conversation between the breakfast and lunch rushes. We talked for a while.

                “I don’t usually yap this much about my personal life,” I said.

                “People say I have that effect,” she said without judgment.

                From what I gathered, a combination of curiosity, health and economics led to the love of Asian food reflected in most dishes. Her Pad Thai, the dish that sold so swiftly in Woodstock, is back in Uptown ($9), Shrimp or Chicken ($12) versions, and it’s unlike any that I’ve eaten. I got mine with chicken to go, and damned if it wasn’t piping hot 40 minutes later, jammed into a Chinese takeout container. It’s got a lot of flavor going on, tastes like the best brown bits from the wok, with organic and hormone-free meat, tofu and a gentle dusting of peanuts.

                I got it to go because I ate breakfast in. There was plenty to choose from – Asian-style marinated steak and eggs, slab bacon sliced on the premises, toasted baguette with butter and fig or pepper jam – but the omelet with homemade kimchee was out. Breakfast Bánh Mì ($9) was a solid stand-in: scrambled egg, pickled veg and cilantro on a soft baguette section, served with a small bowl of rice crackers of assorted shapes, colors and textures.

                Then there was sweet to eat. Gilhuly makes most desserts, including gluten-free lemon/walnut torte, cookies and specials; but Turner makes the Saffron Rice Pudding ($4). Ramekin-sized servings are presented bottom-up in a stemmed sundae glass, arriving steaming, topped with chopped toasted almonds. It’s thick, not custardy, with that unmistakable saffron-yellow hue, coconut and vanilla-bean specks. It’s familiar and exciting.

                Right now, while they’re feeling it out, Café East is only open Monday through Friday. But once May comes and the farmers’ market hits the streets, they plan on Saturdays from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. For fine fare weekdays, stop by from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. If you want to shoot the breeze and drink cup after cup of organic coffee, come in between meals. There’s also a serious-looking machine up front pulling espresso shots for cappuccinos, lattes and macchiatos, too. So stop by and give Café East a shot. I’m pulling for them.

I broke my own rule: If a place is known for a thing, you get the thing. At Schlesinger’s Steak House in New Windsor, you get Schlesinger Steak. They don’t put it in the name for nothing. And at Quattro’s Farm Store in Pleasant Valley, you buy the poultry and game meats from the animals that they raise on the farm. There’s even a special roadside sign with a long-tailed brown bird on it advertising “Pheasant – Fresh – Smoked – Ducks – Geese – Turkeys” and a neon sign in the window with two birds facing off. Welcome to Pheasant Valley.

Did I get my goose? Duck? No luck. The thought flew out of my head when I pulled up in front of a placard trifecta: “Hunting Supplies” – “Savage Arms” – “Team Glock.” They made another sign indicating not to inquire about public restrooms seem quite serious. The market shares the building with Quattro’s Hunting Supplies, and rifles are visible through the window.

Turns out that Quattro’s is a serious market, cluttered with racks and refrigerated cases, warm and welcoming. Overlooking the cash register by the door are baskets brimming with bread baked fresh daily. The smell pervades all transactions and undoubtedly encourages many last-minute purchases.

Nearby are cartons of jumbo-sized wild turkey eggs, looking rust-speckled. There are smooth cappuccino-colored pheasant eggs and duck eggs, too. There are plump, fresh mozzarellas in tight plastic wrap, and perimeter shelves teeming with colorful cans and jars, eclectic domestic and imported goods curated by someone with excellent taste. Ditto the beer cooler, which contains an excellent selection of microbrews, and a cheese fridge featuring the best of New York State and beyond. Spices in small plastic deli containers are stacked five high – green and pink peppercorns, red paprika – and the display obscures the piece de resistance at back: a deli counter sporting a stunning meat case.

The case is filled in part by products from Quattro’s Game Farm. According to the Eat Well Guide (www.eatwellguide.org), Carmella Quattrociocchi founded the farm in 1942 and operated it with her mother; husband Frank ran the farm store. A third generation of Quattros now runs the show, raising chickens, ducks, geese, pheasants and turkeys both domestic and wild: New Holland Whites, which can grow to over 40 pounds, Bourbon Reds and Eastern Wilds; venison too. The cage-free and pasture-raised animals eat antibiotic-free vegetarian feed, wheat, oats, barley, rye, alfalfa and corn. When the animals eat well, you will, too. Those dozens of dark venison sausage links just waiting to be plucked up and wrapped in white paper? The best I’ve ever had. I hear rumors of wild turkey summer sausage, goose pastrami and turkeys smoked on the premises.

They do not dry-cure in-house, but do stock a secondary display’s worth of finest-quality Italian salamis and – bless my heart! – speck. Speck is a juniper-cured, cold-smoked aged ham with a thick fat cap protecting its ruby-red meat, and this is the first time that I’ve seen it outside of the Italian/Austrian borderlands.

A tray of majestic, hand-hewn Porterhouse steaks turned my attention, and then the hunky short ribs. There were long, dark and handsome flank steaks. It was everything that you’d need for a beef Bacchanalia. I looked back at the sausages, nestled next to their sweet and hot Italian friends. It was close to sensory overload.

Luckily, everyone behind the counter is kind, knowledgeable and courteous. Ask for suggestions and recipes. They can help the willing.

I was a hopeless case. I spent $65. That included a Harpersfield Farmstead cheese, made in New York and flavored with hops. This surprising semi-hard exhibits a pleasant bitterness that begs for beer.

No first-time pheasant, sure, but I’ll be back. It was worth the long drive down Route 44 to be able to recommend this treasure, heretofore hidden from me. Those lucky enough to live nearer the Rhinebeck Farmers’ Market can get their Quattro’s fix there; and if you’re in New York City, stop by the Union Square Greenmarket for a selection of best-sellers.

Just don’t run afoul of the rule: Get the fowl.

The classic universal edible link – usually meat – comes in many shapes, sizes and configurations, an endless variety of savory flavor and texture. When made of pure good ingredients and with care, a sausage is a singular delight like no other. That kind of quality is not for sale on every streetcorner, so it’s well-worth seeking out the carefully made ones – even learning how to make them yourself if you can, so you can control exactly what goes into them. A Highland butcher is selling 32 varieties of sausage, and teaching others how to create their own.

“Sausage is my passion,” says Mark Elia of Elia’s Meat Market. He says that people deserve to know what’s “inside the link,” and to be able to control the kind of meat, what parts of the animal and any additives that go in, because with much commercial sausage, that’s an unknown. He shares his knowledge of his favorite thing, sausage-making, at intimate, customized classes in the back of the shop. For his class “Old World Sausage-Making,” a maximum of five students start with coffee, sweets and jokes and choose a configuration for the 20 pounds of sausage that they will take home at the end of the day. They pick from 13 different recipes, from Italian sweet or hot to bratwurst to broccoli rabe (a best-seller and Elia’s personal favorite). The students can make all one kind, ten-pound bags of two kinds or five-pound bags of four.

Each sausage apprentice has his or her own workstation equipped with a small commercial KitchenAid mixer (with sturdy metal gears, instead of the nylon of the home models) that is set up with a meat-grinder attachment and a mixing bowl and paddle for folding the sausage seasoning spices into the meat. The class gets to work, learning how to the take the bone and scraps off the pork butts: a cut that Elia chooses for its fat-to-lean ratio, crucial for juicy sausages. Then he directs them as they cube the meat into small-enough pieces to feed into the hopper of the grinder. There are tastings throughout the class, and some will grill up a piece of sausage meat to test for seasonings as they go along – although Elia says that this won’t taste exactly like the sausage, because of the different cooking methods.

After a lunch break the class flushes the sausage casings, which are already clean, but need to have the salt in which they’re packed thoroughly rinsed off, and Elia shows the class how to get them ready for stuffing. At about 1 p.m. the stuffing begins: a good time for some more of the ribald jokes to which sausage stuffing lends itself. Elia recalls a bachelorette party when they were especially spicy: “Worse than the men,” Elia laughs. “I have some fun teaching this class,” he adds.

Then the students learn how to twist the stuffed casings into sausages and how to store them. Along the way, they’ve also learned about binding agents and other additives; how to take care of the equipment; and safe working temperatures for the product. The class ends at about 2:30 to 3 p.m.

Sausage-making is a lot of fun; take it from this occasional sausage hobbyist. Elia’s classes run every couple of weeks, and are currently booked through the end of the month. You can fill out an application online, but it’s best to call (845) 691-9312 to schedule. The cost for a workshop is $250.

Elia’s Meat Market sells a rotating selection of 32 homemade sausage varieties (including a roster of secret-recipe German ones taught to Elia by a mentor). Other popular sausages include: a chicken sausage with three cheeses: parmesan, Romano and Asiago; and the broccoli rabe, for which the greens are gently sautéed in garlic and olive oil to take the edge off any bitterness, and folded with ground pork and parmesan cheese. “It’s one of our biggest movers,” says Elia.

Elia’s Meat Market is a full-service, old-fashioned butcher shop, with everything fabricated on-site, that sells holiday meats from turkey to a Frenched rack of American lamb. Elia makes about 30 turduckens a year (for the uninitiated, that’s a labor-intensive creation of boned chicken stuffed into boned duck stuffed into boned turkey). Elia’s is a family operation, with wife Toni and daughters Adrienne and Kaylee helping out in the shop.

A recent perusal of the display cases offered up pastrami, maple-smoked slab bacon, Daisy ham and fresh ham. Wild game processing is available. You’ll also find all-beef hot dogs, smoked and fresh kielbasa, liverwurst, bratwurst, weisswurst and bockwurst, a traditional Easter sausage dubbed “Lenten bologna.” The array of ready-to-cook meats in the display case, varies day-to-day and week-to-week, and is available for shipping.

If you can’t wait to get it home and cook: A full roster of barbecued specialties that have been slow-smoked over a variety of hardwoods is available to take out or eat in the shop. A window to the street streamlines accessibility. I sampled some heavenly hickory-smoked pulled pork in a sauce that was a perfect balance of tangy and sweet (a sandwich is $6), and some luscious sweet-oak-smoked brisket (a sandwich is $7). Elia learned to barbecue in Texas and also offers St. Louis-style ribs in various sizes ($6 for a three-rib teaser, $12 for a half-rack and $20 for a full rack), beef short ribs and samplers (for two: $12 and for four: $29). When he can get it, Elia uses cherrywood for the pulled pork, and sometimes the easier-to-find oak. His ribs won People’s Choice in 2006 at the Taste of New Paltz, and in 2011 a Gold Medal at the Ginsberg Taste Exposure and Culinary Challenge in Albany. Elia is hoping to start a class to share his barbecue secrets as well.

As if teaching people how to make sausage, guiding Culinary Institute of America students in the arts of meat fabrication and sausage-making and manning a full butcher shop weren’t enough, Elia also caters events, including barbecues and pig roasts. He offers an optional mozzarella bar, with fresh mozzarella made on-site that Elia pulls dramatically into long strings then layers with prosciutto.

Elia’s Meat Market is located in the center of the hamlet of Highland, at 85 Vineyard Avenue right off Route 9W. The shop is open Fridays from oon to 8 p.m., and on Saturdays and Sundays from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. For more information on the shop, catering and classes, call (845) 691-9312,  e-mail eliasmarket@optonline.net or visit www.eliasmeatmarket.com.

Pride of the Incas and darling of today’s healthy eaters, quinoa (“KEEN-wa”) provides a complete protein along with vitamins, minerals, good taste and versatility. Quick and simple to cook, it can be part of or central to a huge variety of dishes.

Chenopodium quinoa has been cultivated near Lake Titicaca in Bolivia for about 5,000 years, a common staple in the Andes Mountains, where it does well at the high altitudes. For the ancient Incas it was sacred and one of their three staple foods, with potatoes and corn, and they dubbed it chisaya mama, or “the mother of all grains.” Incan warriors rolled it into balls with fat to sustain themselves in battle.

Since then, it disappeared from common knowledge until the 1970s, when NASA scientists rediscovered it when looking for a super-food that would keep astronauts healthy during long space missions. Then it became the darling of the health-food-store set, more recently as a popular and easy-to-find source of high-protein (as complete as meat, actually), gluten-free goodness.

Quinoa is not actually a grain, as is commonly thought, but a seed. It clusters at the top of a plant related to beets – and also lambs’ quarters/pigweed, a common-but-tasty weed that foragers such as myself love finding in their gardens or in the wild, to throw in salads or cook like spinach.

Soft and gentle-tasting, lightly nutty and pretty, quinoa seed comes in white, orange, red, purple and black varieties and is fun to play with. What is the difference among white, red and black quinoa? Not a heck of a lot, as far as I can tell. Personally, I think that the red is the most visually appealing, outclassing the rice-mimicking white, but that’s just me. I may be imagining the richer flavor and texture, although others say that the red has a bit more bite than the white, and clumps less. Black and red are rarer and sometimes pricier than white. Nutritionally, they are close cousins.

Part of what makes quinoa easy to grow and healthy is that it contains saponin, which repels pests, rendering pesticides unnecessary and making most quinoas organic. But the saponin has to be cleaned off to prevent a bitter taste. While most commercial quinoa comes pre-rinsed, most quinoa-cookers recommend additional rinsing, through a sieve, until the water runs clear. You can boil or steam it and then simply dress it with a dash of olive oil, lemon juice, tamari or sesame oil as a nice side dish. Some cookers say to cook it one part seed to two parts water; some say a little less water, to keep it fluffy, not gummy; while some say a little more water, then drain it to keep the grains separate.

It can go into myriad salads, great for the warming weather that we hope will happen soon. Little chunks of tomato, sweet bell pepper, avocado, cucumber, zucchini cooked or raw, diced potato, mushrooms, carrots, beets, corn, lettuces or other greens all marry beautifully with quinoa.

Tangy, sprightly additions like olives, nuts from pistachio to pine, and bits of cheese like feta or bleu complement it, too. Dried fruits like currants, craisins or diced dried apricots flatter quinoa’s subtle flavor, too, as do fresh herbs. Any kind of bean, from chickpeas to black beans, goes well with it. There’s not much that it doesn’t like.

Key also for a good quinoa salad is an allium or two, such as garlic, onion, red onion, sweet onion or scallions, and a zesty dressing: maybe Southwestern, Mediterranean, creamy – whatever you think goes best with your ingredients. Mild quinoa works well with the flavor profiles of any land, I think, and is a perfect canvas for a cook’s creativity. Tabbouleh made with quinoa rather than bulgur is a very popular example.

To make a nice pilaf-type dish, you can sauté aromatics such as onion and garlic in the fat of your choice, such as olive oil, then toast the quinoa dry in the pan before adding broth or stock. Cover and simmer 15 to 20 minutes until you see the little white curls, which means that it has popped; then fluff it, cover the pan and let rest five more minutes: very simple. I just made a lovely one with red quinoa, along with chopped mushrooms, fresh thyme and parsley. It was delicately crispy and had a beautiful rich color that would enhance any accompaniments.

Some like their quinoa in soups, stews or chilis, for an extra punch of protein and texture. Others put it in veggie stir-fries, or stuffed vegetables like peppers or squash. Baked goods from quick breads to yeast breads to muffins are made better with quinoa, and as a breakfast cereal, with fruity and nutty embellishments, it’s hot. Any way that you get it into your daily diet, it provides not only that famous complete protein, but also lots of fiber, iron, calcium, magnesium, manganese, phosphorus, copper, B vitamins and vitamins A and E.

Darling as it is, quinoa is currently steeped in a wee bit of controversy. Although it has been long-loved for Passover as a gluten-free substitute for forbidden grains like rye, oats, barley and wheat, the world’s largest kosher certification agency the Orthodox Union is currently calling it not kosher, with arguments among its ranks. This is because it is sometimes grown near wheat and barley fields, whose products can potentially infiltrate it, and because it looks like a grain, with the potential for confusion. Rival kosher certification agency Star-K says that it’s okay, however, and the Orthodox Union’s current stance is that kosher-conscious consumers should consult their local rabbis.

Also, quinoa’s popularity means that it has become prohibitively expensive for South Americans to buy, so they are losing access to this precious, healthy indigenous grain. Bolivia’s agricultural ministry reports than the country’s consumption has fallen 34 percent over the past five years as prices have tripled.

So it’s not all good. Ravyn Rant agrees, in this parody of Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab”:

They try to make me eat the quinoa, I say no, no, no;

Texture like sand, it’s tasteless and bland, so no, no, no;

I don’t mean to whine, I’ll eat the veggies, yes that’s fine;

Don’t try to make me eat the quinoa, I’ll say no, no, no.

But millions love it, as do I. I’ll leave it up to you to decide.

 Boitson’s, the Uptown Kingston eatery on North Front Street, owes its existence to an exceedingly rare stroke of good fortune: an inheritance from a Brooklyn landlord, a retired Ukrainian-American sailor who befriended his tenant, Maria Philippis, and kept in touch even after she moved away to the Hudson Valley. Philippis, who worked in her family’s Long Island restaurants while living in the north Williamsburg brownstone, had always wanted her own place, and the surprise inheritance from Alexander Boitson upon his passing in 2007 finally made it possible.

    In gratitude to her benefactor, Philippis named her Kingston restaurant, which opened in June 2010, after him; and the 1940s-era nautical-style décor – complete with navy walls, sleek bar and bathroom murals inspired by a World War II sailor’s tattoos – was designed as a kind of living memorial, where, according to Philippis, “the Ukrainian-American sailor could get a decent plate of oysters and everyone is warmly welcomed.” Boitson’s draws crowds for its tried-and-true standards – burgers, steak frites, fried chicken – vegan dishes and weekly specials, keyed to the seasons and utilizing fresh, local ingredients whenever possible.

    “We’re conscious of what our clients want,” said Philippis, who is as rooted in the restaurant business as one can be, with her brother, father and uncle all owning successful places. “It’s a lot of hard work, giving people what they want and putting out really good, fresh food.”

    Philippis, who owned a weekend house in Stone Ridge and had an antique store in Rosendale before opening Boitson’s, has taken to Kingston like a fish to water: Last year she bought the building next door, which enabled her to expand the deck in back. In the warm-weather months, patrons can enjoy a surprise view of the Catskill Mountains at the outdoor bar and lounge area, furnished with couches.

    With the purchase, she also gained two storefronts. One was occupied briefly by the furniture retailer Spruce and has also been the site of several pop-up galleries showcasing Philippis’ friends’ work. The other is home to longtime tenant Colonial Health Food. Upstairs, she rents out two apartments, decorated in Mid-Century Modern, to travelers. The rates are $175 a night on weekends and $135 a night during the week.

    Philippis has gone out of her way to acquaint her guests with Kingston. She has driven a few of her guests downtown, to the waterfront – a surprise to many of them, who didn’t know that Kingston was on the Hudson River – and said that most visitors are entranced by Kingston. “We should take a step back and look at what we’ve got. It’s a gorgeous city,” she said. “We need to invest more in infrastructure, parking, transit and signage.”

    Philippis was one of four businesspeople who organized Uptown’s New Year Eve extravaganza, which attracted a few thousand people. “The turnout was unbelievable,” she said. That collective effort exemplified another aspect of Kingston that Philippis loves: the supportiveness of the business community. “We eat in each other’s places, and we all try to plan together,” she said.

    Philippis, who juggles managing the restaurant with taking care of her two-year-old son, said she believes that this summer will be a turning point for Kingston: “I give it another year, and then Kingston will be on the map.”

    Boitson’s is open from 5 to 11 p.m. on Friday and Saturday and from 5 to 10 p.m. on Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday and Monday. Brunch will be served from 12 noon to 4 p.m. on Sunday starting May 6. Entrées are priced from $14 to $28.