The Perfect Place to Welcome Autumn

Where to shop and eat in the Hudson Valley. The best biscuits ever. A cool vintage menu. And a brilliant way to learn how our food system works.

It’s starting to be fall, and there’s no better place to be right now than the Hudson Valley. I just got a call from a writer doing a piece about how hip it is up here, which reminded me of how much has changed since I first moved to the area more than thirty years ago.

A couple of years ago I wrote this little ode to my hometown, and I think this is a good time to share it. I’ve added a list of my favorite food places in this wonderful corner of the world.

Want to write me a letter? If you simply address it to Ruth, Spencertown, New York I’ll probably get it.

When I walk into the quaint little post office in our town the postmistress will hand it over saying, “This came for you.” Then Kate will rewrap the package I’m mailing (I never do it well enough to suit her) while filling me in on the latest news about the softball team.

That’s what I love about living here.

Some mornings I wake up, stare at the mist rising off the mountains and try to figure out how I wandered into this Jane Austen life. For a person raised in the studied anonymity of a Manhattan apartment building (my parents lived next door to the same couple for forty years without ever knowing their names), it is comforting to be part of a community where privacy is impossible. We even have what amounts to a local squire: the artist Ellsworth Kelly lived in our little hamlet for a large part of his life, and although he’s no longer with us, his husband continues to support every local cause. They built us a fire house, renovated Town Hall and maintain conservancy trails; at Christmas Jack even goes around town handing out Champagne. And yes, we all watch his comings and goings with the kind of avid curiosity so often found in Austen books – and so rarely in American cities. I know a lot about neighbors I have never met - and they know a lot about me.

A couple years ago I stupidly lit a fire without opening the vent in the fireplace. Five minutes later I was doing my best to evict the billows of smoke that filled the house when the Fire Chief showed up. “I know your husband is away…” said this man I’d never met before, “and when the alarm went off I thought I’d better stop in and make sure you were alright.”

When we moved here thirty years ago I had no idea it would be like this. But not a week had passed before a neighbor phoned to say he was certain we had old friends in common. “You don’t know me,” he began, “but the postmistress told me about you. Why don’t you come over for dinner?”

Sadly, they were vegetarians. Our nearest neighbor, however, was not. That first fall we were startled to come home and find a deer hanging outside Kenny’s house. The next day there were more. And more. Kenny took hunting season seriously, using a bow and arrow (the season is longer) so he could fill the freezer with meat for the year. When Kenny heard that I write about food (it was probably the postmistress who told him), he began showing up with packages of meat. Venison, duck, even wild turkey although he didn’t think much of the poor birds. “Dry and bony,” was his assessment, “but they make decent chili. Here, I’ll give you the recipe.”

In those days people around here tended to be frugal. Wealthy weekenders went to chic places like the Hamptons, leaving our valley to families who had been here for generations. They tolerated the artists, writers and musicians who’d been drawn by the untamed beauty of the land and its startlingly low cost. There was also, of course, a sprinkling of cooks, thrilled to be surrounded by farmers. We shopped local, rarely went out to eat (where would you go?), and never dressed up.

Friends who came to visit were mostly in search of bargains in Hudson’s many antique shops. We’d spend days walking down Warren Street, going in and out of funky little storefront places where the proprietors huddled over heaters – the shops were always freezing - and offered an astonishingly varied collection of goods. It was an endless treasure hunt. After a couple of years the dealers all knew I collected old kitchen implements and they’d call whenever something interesting arrived. My greatest find was an antique juicer that resembles an elephant. It cost two dollars.

Afterwards we’d wander off Warren to the adjacent streets whose once magnificent buildings had turned into wrecks. I always took people past the imposing Colonial Revival house on Court Street where the poet John Ashbury lived, hoping we might get a glimpse of the great man. We never did, but we’d eye the beautiful ruins around his home, wondering if they were affordable.

A few years ago it hit me that the wrecks were disappearing; by now all the beautiful buildings in Hudson have been restored to their former glory. The antique shops are mostly gone, replaced by restaurants, clothing stores and wine shops patronized by the inhabitants of these now stately homes. Things are also starting to change in our little town. We have a fine new performance space (PS 21), and it looks like we’re going to have a Shaker museum. There’s great local cheese, eager young farmers, talented bakers. New restaurants seem to open every day. It all became too much for Kenny; a few years ago he sold his house to an artist who has replaced the hanging deer with contemporary sculptures. The air is still filled with the raucous sound of gunshots during hunting season, but I suspect the people in bright red jackets are here for sport rather than survival.

Change, of course, is inevitable. But I’m already nostalgic for the life we’re losing.

Each time I pass the charming old church on our town green I notice the sign that says it has been here since 1772. It reminds me that what I love most about living here is how slowly things changed in the intervening years. But things are speeding up. Any day now I’ll wake to find that I’m surrounded by strangers – and that envelopes addressed to Ruth in Spencertown have been returned to sender.

I live halfway between two incredible small towns: Hudson New York which has become a mecca for artists and hip young families, and Great Barrington Massachusetts, a long-time cultural hub for people devoted to music, dance, film and literature. They are both great places to eat and shop.

Favorite Hudson Food Places
Shops
Talbott and Arding
When Mona Talbott and Kate Arding opened their first little shop in Hudson they upped the local food ante. Mona’s a former Chez Panisse chef (and the person who revamped the food at The American Academy in Rome), and her wife Kate is a cheese expert who worked at England’s famed Neal’s Yard. A few years ago they expanded into a much larger shop where they sell fantastic prepared foods, wonderful cheese and charcuterie, local produce and the finest food products from around the world.

Mel the Bakery
Beautiful baguettes, fantastic laminated pastries, great sandwiches and all manner of breads made with alternative grains. Little wonder that there’s always a line.

Mx Morningstar Farm Shop
Morningstar Farms not only grows the most beautiful produce (they’re famous for their various chicories), they’ve also curated a fine collection of local meats, cheeses and other edible products. In the winter they source great produce from other places; this is where I buy my California Kishus.

Restaurants
Feast and Floret
Simple, seasonal Italian food done beautifully in a very cozy setting. My go-to in the area.

Cafe Mutton
Local food people are obsessed with this fantastically quirky restaurant. They serve the food they love best, so the lunch menu offers both a spare white country pate sandwich (I have dreamed about it), and a bowl of congee; last week’s brunch included a pig head with a tomato gratin. Dinner is served only on Fridays and it is always memorable.

Lil Deb’s Oasis
It would be hard to imagine a more colorful or livelier restaurant than this proudly queer pan-latin restaurant. The food is as exuberant as the atmosphere: do not miss the whole fried fish.

Klocke Estate
Definitely the class of the area. This new brandy distillery set high on a hill with a fantastic view of the Catskills is made for celebrations. If there’s a more beautiful bar anywhere, I haven’t seen it. Take a tour of the winery and then sit down to rather fancy fare like Jonah Crab tartines and roasted chicken with soubise and vermouth (their own vermouth is delicious).

Great Barrington Favorites
Shops
Rubiner’s
A world class cheese shop in a small town. You could come in and order familiar cheeses - and they would be in perfect condition. Or you could come in and ask Matt Rubiner to give you something you’ve never had before. There’s also great charcuterie, and a fine collection of condiments from all around the world. Rubi’s, the little cafe in the back, is an excellent choice for a quick breakfast or lunch.

Guido’s
Two brothers set up a produce stand, named it for their father and did so well that they expanded, inviting other local purveyors to join them. They’ve grown much larger over the past 40 years, but this gourmet supermarket continues to be one of the nicest food shopping experiences you’ll ever have. I have friends who come to Great Barrington just to shop at Guido’s.

Highlawn Farm
I’m in love with Highlawn Farms milk, which comes from Jersey cows. And I’m not the only one: this quote is from Jersey Journal. “High Lawn Farm has been called ‘the cradle of the Jersey breed.’ It may be one of the greatest examples of cattle breeding ever witnessed — certainly one of the single-most-successful endeavors of the 20th century.”

I often take visitors to their creamery shop to purchase local products and stand in line for the terrific ice cream. Or perhaps just to look at the beautiful barn and visit those exemplary cows.

Restaurants
Heirloom Lodge
I first met Matt Strauss when he was working at Campanile, then again at his much-loved Heirloom Cafe in San Francisco. Now he’s in the Berkshires, serving locally-sourced food in a large, warm, rustic room with an open kitchen. His food is vegetable-forward and his wine list is a gem.

Bistro Box
Two graduates of the CIA decided to do American food with pride. In the summer the lines at this glorified roadside stand are ridiculous, but everyone loves the burgers, the sandwiches, the fries. I am particularly partial to their giant onion rings. And the park-like outdoor setting is extremely pleasant.

Prairie Whale
Mark Firth started his restaurant career at Odeon, went on to open a series of Brooklyn restaurants with Andrew Tarlow (Marlow and Son, among others), until the lure of country living led him to the Berkshires 15 years ago. The result is this laid back farm-to-table restaurant; on most nights you’ll find local farmers, butchers and cheesemakers sitting around the bar.

Coming upon this menu made me sad. The Chef’s Club, a restaurant that hosted guest chefs from around the world, was a great idea - and it attracted really stellar talent. But like so many restaurants, it died with the Covid crisis. Torrisi now occupies the space.

I had many wonderful meals there, but this 2015 dinner by Jowett Yu of Hong Kong’s Ho Lee Fook really stood out. Yu, incidentally, is no longer in Hong Kong; he’s returned to Melbourne with plans to open a new restaurant.

If you think it’s absurd to get excited about crackers, then you haven’t tried Effie’s Biscuits. Sturdy and rich with just a faint bit of sweetness they put almost every other cracker I’ve tried to shame.

Which one do I like the best? Hard to say. At first I was obsessed with the crisp, buttery Gruyere crackers with that snappy pepper bite. But then I tasted the malted cocoa biscuits and fell in love with those. With a hint of coconut, they’re the perfect chocolate cookie for those who don’t like sweets. But then there’s the hazelnut, and the corn….

All I can say is that these are a very delicious addition to a cheeseboard. And anyone would be thrilled to get them as a gift.

I’ve had a lot of wonderful food this week, but the dish I keep thinking about is this arroz meloso at Txikito. A wildly wonderful concoction of bomba rice, sea urchin, tomato and wild shrimp, the flavor continues to haunt me four days later.

This is a voyage of the mind. But if you’re confused about food policy (and who isn’t?), here is the perfect solution. Civil Eats has just created a crash course on civics and the food system. The four-part email course covers the federal government’s role in what we eat, and it couldn’t be more timely.

It’s hard to think of a better way to spend $20.