Food for Thought: Summer/Fall 2025
For this issue I’ve reached a one-year milestone. Three milestones, actually, but they occurred in such rapid succession that they will forever be linked with one another.
The first is that Rob and I got married last year on Summer Solstice, one of the best weekends to be in Santa Barbara and celebrate.
The second is that my father, witness to the marriage, passed away the next morning. This isn’t a request for pity but to say that he was extraordinarily lucky to have spent his career here in Santa Barbara, followed by decades of retirement growing orchids and napping on the front porch. He passed peacefully, in his home, which is the best any of us could hope for.
The third item is that Rob and I acquired Edible Santa Barbara just a few days later.
It’s fitting that the traditional first wedding anniversary gift is paper. And here it is: our Summer/Fall issue. The modern first anniversary gift is clocks. For this: Pay attention to your time. It’s the one thing we cannot get more of.
The theme for this issue is “Take It Outside!” Growing up here in the ’70s and ’80s, we were “free-range” children, able to wander and bike around. By first grade at Monte Vista I was taking the bus by myself after school to the Mesa to ice skate until dark. My brother and I once walked from 154/Cathedral Oaks to the Museum of Natural History, sustained by homemade “pixie sticks” of straws filled with Tang and equipped with one dime to call our parents when we were ready to get a ride home. It probably cannot happen now, but this was our lived experience. This uncurated exploration time helped make us who we are today.
This summer, give yourself some uncurated exploration time. In this issue, we explore other forms of being outside and acknowledge the growth, peaks and winding down of these events outdoors. We acknowledge the existence of “third places” (neither home nor workplace) and invite you to discover one or invent your own.
If I had a singular food to symbolize peak summer it would be a peach. It is a feast for all the senses. The soft fuzz, and yellow pink red summer colors. The sweet perfume, intoxicating because you know it’s fully ripe and ready to go. The sound of a bite—perhaps the crisp shatter of breaking through the skin—is followed by the boisterous, juicy slurps of consuming the ripest peach. Then there is a silly ritual. If you aren’t already outside and prepared, your bite elicits a rush over to the sink, or leaning forward to keep the juices from dripping down your shirt.
I experienced that moment with Terry and Holly Delaney. Opening the Veggie Rescue van revealed a case of gleaned peaches, and we each took one to snack on. The taste, being so sweet, was like honey, and rich it was almost buttery. Spoiler alert: There was a lot of slurping.
There’s a saying that when people come together to share a meal, bonds are forged. I’ll say: When people come together to eat ripe summer peaches, the ritual of slurping creates levity, and laughter is good medicine at any time of year.
Rosminah Brown, Publisher
