Having just returned from a first-ever family vacation, I can attest with absolute certainty that there’s nothing that replaces time with family, making memories. Presents under the tree are wonderful (and the hand-made ones are the best). But even more, the gift of unrestricted time, to allow the day to unfold without an agenda and with each other, is truly without compare.
With that said, we now have a way to order gift certificates online. You don’t need to purchase a whole trip, but could just contribute to a trip for someone you love. I realize now, more poignantly, how we participate in these memories and are honored to do so.
It’s also seriously at least 10 times the cooking space I have on the Riggin. Instead of standing at my stove and turning, turning, turning from stove to baking supplies to counter top, I had miles of kitchen to cover and all sorts of spaces to loose track of my knives and glasses and any number of trays of mise en place kitted up for the class. This girl is not used to being able to spread out!
I had not a clue what to expect when I arrived, as I’ve never been in the cooking school side of the campus before. As I walked around to familiarize myself with the space, I had several lovely surprises in the form of Riggin guests who kept walking through the door. As soon as I’d hugged one, the next walked in! What a treat to have the support of those who already knew me as I began the class and walked everyone through the recipes from bread to dessert.
After teaching to a full class for 90 minutes, there was time to sign books and talk with folks as they filtered out. What a lovely way for everyone to spend a long lunch and what a fun time I had sharing it with them. Many thanks to the Stonewall Kitchen crew for making my first time go so smoothly.
Fantastic articles about the J. & E. Riggin just keep coming. I don’t know what else to say about this write-up in Edible Maine, except I love the story, I love the photos, I love everything about this article. You can read “Three Squares at Sea” out online or order a copy from the Edible Maine website.
It’s been a week now since our last sailing day and already I miss the wide open sky; seeing the horizon when the sun sets and rises; and living outside.
Our first day on shore saw the entire boat change. Within hours the cabins were empty of linens, mattresses, curtains, and anything else that makes them habitable – for people or for mice. The galley was a whirl of banana boxes and milk crates filled to the brim with dry goods and equipment. After two days of bee-hive like intensity, the galley is also barren of any sign that on a daily basis, all summer long, three abundant meals are produced and consumed in short order by our guests.
These changes help me recognize that our transition to shore has begun. The ending of each season brings both satisfaction and a little melancholy. The feeling of a job well done in creating a safe and happy season for our crew and our many beloved guests is strong. This is also tinged with a tiny sadness that it has again come to an end. At the same time there is more space in our days which we quickly fill up with private conversation and cozy time on the couch, riding horses, playing music, talking with family, and even cleaning the house.
What’s interesting is that I don’t pine for one place over the other. When I’m cooking on my wood stove I never yearn for my gas stove at home and when I’m at home cooking for us or catering for a crowd, I don’t wish for my wood stove. The same is true for my bunk. When I sleep on the boat, I love hearing the light lap of the ocean against the hull, the rain on the deck, and the smell of pine tar and wood. When I’m home, half the time we sleep with the window open so we can smell the fresh air and it’s luxuriant to climb into cozy sheets under a beautiful duvet and have a little space to spread out.
The settling in to either of our homes, the boat and our house, always feels like the shifting of weather seasons, sometimes there is resistance to what is coming and also a knowing that whatever we are leaving will come around again. There is also a looking forward to the new.
You’ve been asking for it and we’ve found a way to bring it to you – with your help. What have you been asking for, you say? Why a new printing of the red cookbook, At Home, At Sea, of course. I’ve heard ALOT over the past several years it’s been out of print that we should do a second printing. We are ready!
But here’s the thing… We just printed Sugar & Salt: The Orange Book last year and we haven’t had enough time to recoup our printing costs to turn around and do another printing. However, E and I are ready and up to the task of putting together a new and updated version of At Home, At Sea for you.
Now, we just need your help! Check out the details of our Kickstarter campaign. There are a bunch of fun gift levels from mini-notecards, a Riggin apron, the cookbooks, Maine lobster sent to your door, me as your personal chef, a trip on the Riggin, and an elegant dinner made for you and your 8 guests in your own home. Thank you for taking the time to check out our latest effort!