Gathering Place

This family celebrates winter long after the holidays are over.

Iremember a particularly low point while I backpacked through Europe. We’d missed a few trains, finally arriving at our hotel late into the night, weary and fatigued. We were promptly encouraged to head to the restaurant up the road a little ways to drink and eat our worries away. We obliged.

The road to the restaurant was dark. The Italian countryside had consumed the path and branches arched over, all but blocking out the night sky. Completely unsure of our chosen route (and life choices at this point), we kept driving on even though we were tired. I’ll never forget looking up from the bleak road and seeing the light from the restaurant on the hillside. Nestled in among the trees, I still couldn’t make out the actual building. Rather, I saw the glow from a few glass windows, pouring out onto the road. For a traveler, weak in spirit, there was nothing more comforting. That light said, “Come. Eat. Drink. Be filled. Let us care for you.”

And I let them.

As I open the door and shuffle in guests to our home, my hope is always that they’ll be restored, that even something as small as a meal, conversation and laughter, and a glass of port will be enough to “fill their cups” for the coming days. Our farm, Le Chalet, is nestled down at the bottom of a gravel road. You must drive around a few bends of cherry trees before the light from the cottage can be seen.

Like that restaurant on the hill in Italy, our cottage offers refuge to our guests. At their arrival, we say, “Come. Eat. Drink. Be filled. Let us care for you.”

My mom taught me how to set the stage for celebrating with company. I return again and again to her essentials for winter:

Rich Foods

There is most certainly a time for clean soups and entree salads, but in my humble opinion, it is not winter. The table should be filled with artisan cheeses, roasted meats and vegetables, flavorful wines and succulent desserts, whole-grain breads and plenty of butter. I want guests to feel as if they’ve been given a warm embrace, which is exactly what rich foods accomplish.

Comfort

A secondhand, casual tablecloth, wearing the stains from all the meals it has served over the decades, makes guests feel instantly comfortable. This isn’t the type of table to exclude little ones or even messy adults from enjoying the food on their plates. Likewise, the warm glow of candlelight makes guests feel calm and cozy as it flickers across the table.

Family Style

More often than not, this is the way we serve guests. The finished dishes are displayed on a variety of plates and platters before being brought out to the table. Large serving spoons are tucked into each dish before it’s passed around from hand to hand, each guest serving himself. Not only does this keep the table casual, but it automatically makes guests

feel comfortable. They get to choose what and how much ends up on their plate. It doesn’t hurt that the dishes are within arm’s reach for easy second servings.

Food with Stories

The table may be simple, yet serving up food that we’ve labored to produce over the past year runs incredibly deep. Behind every vegetable is years of knowledge put to use as we combat the dry, hot summers. The meat is a reflection of more than a decade setting the foundation for our own breeding livestock, raising them on pasture and then harvesting them in the most resourceful, respectful way. The fruits were picked, preserved and put away for such a night as this. Even the small cups that litter the table are filled with milk that is hand-squeezed each morning, by yours truly, from a cow with a name. Each element of the table has a story.

After the obvious celebrations of winter have passed, we’re left with dozens of ordinary days. A cold, dreary, perhaps snow-filled Monday is just as much a part of winter as the holidays, and truth be told, can be just as magical. There is no day of the week that doesn’t benefit from sharing the table. These short, dark days and how we spend them begin to define our season. To embrace the simplicity of winter, with its rich solitude and comfortable provisions, is a beautiful start to defining our everyday ordinary.

Shaye Elliott shares a quick snack with her youngest son, Will. Her cottage kitchen includes lots of vintage copper pots and a French-made stove that will probably outlast her, she says.

This essay is from Shaye Elliott’s Seasons at the Farm: Year-Round Celebrations at the Elliott Homestead, a reflective guide to gardening, decorating, cooking and entertaining.