Deep within the lonely woods hides a humble craftsman’s cabin, crude work benches strewn with tooled leather, sturdy trestle table piled high with black walnut shavings, lavender, star anise pods, cloves, blackberries, maraschino cherries and helichrysum, known to us common folk as everlasting. Even the rustic chair is overflowing with wicker baskets and jute bags bursting with the bounties of a foraging excursion. In a cast iron pot hanging above the hearth, red wine-soaked sausage simmers gently amidst lion’s mane mushrooms, Cara Cara orange peels, tarragon, wild ramps, leeks and Tulbaghia Violacea the aromatic, edible, purple, wild garlic flowers. Outside, a chittering blue-gray squirrel bounds along a rain-soaked limb, jumping branch to branch until finally alighting precariously on the windowsill, stopping long enough to stare enviously at the warm fire within. Finally, and a league or two away, much closer to the edge of the forest, a wild boar dashes and crashes through the underbrush, panting heavily with misty breath to cool his rising heat. It has been a long chase, but he has evaded his pursuers this day. Dogs, horses, and humans alike turn reluctantly toward home and the promised feast, as the nearing dusk makes further pursuit of the last of their quarry far too dangerous.

notes by clay selkirk, winemaker & all-around cowboy