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CONTENT

A Storyteller's World — Christie Jones Ray

Ben Ashby

Somewhere just outside a tiny map-dot Kentucky town, Christie Jones Ray a storyteller, artist, quilter, and children’s book author creates a storybook world that unfolds against the backdrop of the rural South. Born and raised in Orlando, Florida, her soul longed for the serenity of the countryside, inspired by the cherished memories of visiting her grandparents' farm in Kentucky during the 60s and 70s.

Over three decades ago, the Christie became a resident of Pleasant View, Tennessee, marking the beginning of a journey filled with life's twists and turns. An engagement to a dear man led to marriage in the summer of 2007, followed by a move to Historic Downtown Franklin, Tennessee, four years later. Life in a tiny Victorian cottage unfolded like a storybook, and in the year she turned 50, the storyteller embarked on the journey of self-publishing children's books, creating a magical world of her own. Eight blissful years in that cozy cottage were followed by a return to Pleasant View, only to be drawn to a property in her beloved Kentucky in the summer of 2022. The Victorian-style farmhouse built in 1911 seemed to await her, and a cozy log cabin just steps away completed the idyllic setting. A year later, after renovations, they made the move, creating a haven in the peaceful rural setting that now serves as the enchanting backdrop of her storybook world.


Christie’s love for the art of storytelling began years ago, earning her the title of the family's keeper of stories. From a memory cabinet holding family treasures to a blog launched in February 2011, her storytelling skills were finely tuned. The blog became a canvas for documenting family stories, evolving to include tales of her handmade mouse named Eliza, stitched that Easter, and named after her great grandmother. It was these stories that caught the attention of her husband, sparking the idea of transforming them into children's books.

In August of 2011, just three months before turning 50, the storyteller surrendered to the idea of writing a children's book. Her husband took the lead in researching and gathering information, while she delved into learning to draw, use watercolor paints, and develop the story. Thus, the CJR world was born, with Eliza the Mouse at the center of it. Other characters, including a menagerie of dolls, bears and mice, found their way into the hearts of readers. In particular, Really Old Bear became a beloved character, winning over readers with her wisdom and endearing perspective.

Inspiration for this enchanting world comes from the storyteller's vivid imagination, nurtured since childhood. In her photography, she focuses on capturing the beauty and joy in the world, documenting precious moments that will be cherished down the road. The storybook world she shares is a sanctuary, offering a breath of fresh air, beauty, and encouragement in the face of life's challenges.

Having escaped the bustling atmosphere of the big city, the storyteller found solace in the fields of Queen Anne's Lace, farmhouses, and old quilts of Kentucky. The Southern charm and slower pace of small-town life became integral threads woven into her stories. The CJR world reflects not just her storytelling, but also her appreciation for her Southern roots, embracing her accent, love of old overalls, straw hats, and the joy of cooking with too much butter.

The lost arts of quilting, storytelling, sewing, and more hold a special place in the storyteller's heart. Her lifelong love for old quilts led her to learn the art of quilting. The process of making, sewing, knitting and stitching, she discovered, is not just about the end product but about slowing down, releasing endorphins, and sparking creative juices.

The evolution of the storyteller as an artist and illustrator is a journey marked by growth with each project. Each new book becomes a challenge, with the story taking precedence, and the illustrations pushing her boundaries. The commitment to growth is exemplified in projects like "Eliza Visits the Prairie," where the drawing and painting of a calf became a triumph in persistence and artistic commitment.

Remaining true to herself has been key to her artistic evolution. After a brief period of uncertainty, she decided to let her home, her storybook world, and even her clothing reflect who she truly is. This authenticity has become the cornerstone of her style, connecting her love for wildflowers, quilts and mismatched silverware seamlessly.

The community she seeks to build is not just a gathering of readers but a tapestry of makers, quilters, knitters, educators and friends. It's a community that finds solace in shared whimsy, offering comfort, creativity and connection. The storyteller aims to empower this community to embrace the magic of whimsy, creativity and shared stories.

In her flower garden, old-fashioned favorites bloom, mirroring the timeless beauty captured in her photography. Geraniums grace the front porch, and flowerbeds filled with Cleome, hydrangea, impatiens and Granny’s Bonnet create a picturesque setting that reflects the charm of her Southern roots.

The storyteller's go-to Southern dish, meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans, holds a special place at family gatherings. Her potato salad is a potluck favorite, embodying the essence of shared meals and family traditions.

Preserving and celebrating small towns is a cause close to the storyteller's heart. Small-town life, with its sense of community, shared joys and sorrows, and the coming together in times of triumph and tragedy, has left an indelible mark on her. The movie Steel Magnolias, with its portrayal of small-town life, holds a special place, closely mirroring her own experiences.

In her opinion, life is best lived in community, a sentiment she ardently believes in. The storyteller's hope is to empower the CJR community to feel comfort, creativity and connection, embracing the shared stories and values that make their bond stronger.

As the journey continues, home remains the storyteller's favorite place in the South, where the pace slows, life is embraced, and the art of storytelling finds its truest expression. Whispers of tales and threads echo through the Southern journey into small-town Kentucky, inviting readers into a world where the magic of whimsy and the comfort of shared stories prevail.

CJR with my favorite of her books…Pick-a Pick-a Pumpkin.

The Beauty Surrounding Me — A Conversation with Anne-Louise Ewen

Ben Ashby

Los Angeles based artist, Anne-Louise Ewen, grew up in a small town on the Mississippi River in South Louisiana known equally for the beauty of its antebellum architecture as for its proliferation of toxic chemical plants. Anne-Louise’s work includes paintings, prints, drawings, sculpture, ceramics and books. In the current time of deep unrest in the United States, she wrestles to make paintings that she personally and viscerally finds beautiful while not being in denial of the dark realities we are facing as a society.


In the summer between second and third grade, I met one of my first art mentors in a chance encounter and spent that summer learning the fundamentals of drawing with charcoal, a formative experience which established visual art as a core element of my life. As a teen, I attended the Louisiana School for Math, Science and the Arts (a magnet boarding school) and concentrated on a curriculum of fine art, followed up by spending two years abroad studying figure drawing, printmaking and painting in Paris, France. I relocated from New Orleans to Los Angeles in 2005 following the massive upheaval caused by Hurricane Katrina and went on to pursue a college degree in philosophy which led me to later founding The Donaldsonville Art Colony, a collective of painters, writers, musicians, and filmmakers. I drew upon this experience years later when I opened my art gallery in Costa Mesa, California in 2007.

Creating is a powerful antidote to many of the world’s ills. It reminds me of humanity’s better nature. When I’m creating, I feel like I belong more on this planet than at any other time. Being creative is similar to being resourceful; having the ability to make something out of what you have at hand and do it elegantly when possible. Mere consumption and survival are not enough—the urgency in surpassing this is a part of what drives us to create.

I will never actually identify as or with the term of being a “creative”. For me, that expression always implies creative work that is applied to a commercial endeavor for the main purpose of making money. Don’t get me wrong—I very much like making money, but one thing that is important to me is remembering that there is a difference between art and commerce. And when you’re making art, you can start from a place that is not about marketing and selling and making a buck, but rather aim to create beautiful things that transcend oppression, violence, hate, ignorance and existential ennui.

To be frank, and I know this goes against a lot of contemporary art career advice, I don’t think it’s helpful, as an artist, to concern yourself with finding a style. It’s something that develops from experimenting and playing, and following a thread to something that you love. I’m still curious to see how I will paint or draw this or that. I try to make things that are beautiful to me and that I want to have around. I guess I’ve been painting for long enough that there is a lot of partially conscious, subtle figuring going on inside, but there’s always some aspect of leaping into the void. The key for me is to find a balance between bold spontaneity and calm deftness.




I believe that art’s highest good is as an outpost of freedom and a trigger of joy. I’m interested in art that makes me feel in love with the world, and I believe that artists have the ability and responsibility to restore humanity through what we do. Some have said that looking at my work makes them feel more free and alive, and I’d consider that my biggest accomplishment and the highest compliment.


I grew up in a dynamic where the people I came in contact with were either utterly indifferent to the creative work I was doing, or they were actively antagonistic (with many exceptions, of course!). Over the years, I, therefore, developed in a way that preferred working in isolation—my creative community was made up of the dead artists that I loved, like Matisse and Picasso and of the classical music or jazz on the radio, beaming in from Baton Rouge or New Orleans.

In recent years my creative community has changed some, but it’s a hard habit for me to break. I used to think that I didn’t have anything to say about my work, but now when someone visits my studio, I really enjoy the dialogues that come out of their questions and observations. I love it when someone experiences a connection with something I’ve made, and they say it makes them feel more free, happy and alive. That’s a fantastic part of the equation that was missing from my creative pursuits for a long time.

Surprisingly, my community of artists these days is greatly made up of musician-composers (the most important being my husband, Tyler Sabbag, who is a part of a team of composers best known for their work on the Netflix series, Street Food and Chef’s Table.). I love that they believe, value and understand things that can’t be seen, and this is the kind of person that I like to be around. It’s a never-ending source of fascination for me to discuss the similarities in our work processes. In both of our worlds, we must proceed by a kind of faith and hope to enter a state of grace where the composition evolves into something profoundly wonderful.



Creativity is renewing. When I’m feeling bummed out and don’t feel like I have it in me to paint, however, I may choose to simply work in a different medium, maybe ceramics one day, or I’ll make candles or play ukulele instead. Sometimes, just taking a break and sitting down to a good meal in a pretty setting will do the trick. I also appreciate the way that travel gives me a chance to be “the me” that I am without the errands and the to-do list crowding in on me, allowing me to find the space I need to dream again.

Pursue your creativity—Don’t overthink it.

Feel your way. Play.

Creative inspiration can come from anywhere though I do find I regularly find creativity in the beauty surrounding me. There is so much power in beauty to nourish and soothe us—a trip to Huntington Gardens in Pasadena, seeing my friend Teressa Foglia’s beautiful hats on Instagram, opera, baseball— I want to amplify that and bring it into people’s lives. I’m interested in seeing what happens next. The best times are when it feels like I just get to show up, set up my materials and ride the ride. I often feel as many artists do—like it’s not me making the work but some force passing through me.


I love seeing other people’s beautiful, well-organized studios, but the one I have currently is not that. When we first moved in, my studio was dark green. You can see that I painted it white and hung up the string of lights to brighten it up. We’ve regularly moved from rental house to rental house in Los Angeles for the last decade so my studios have had to adapt to what’s available both in terms of space and finances.

We moved to our current house thinking that the garage would make a pretty decent studio for me. It’s not too small, though it’s always a challenge to find more storage. Unfortunately, it turns out it also leaks terribly in the rain, as well as, fills with dust and leaves from the area’s frequent wind storms. The first curtain I hung across the opening blew away in a windstorm, but this one has held for over a year, fingers crossed. On a positive note, my studio has several walls for me to tack up my canvas to paint on plus space for my paints and brushes and other assorted art supplies. I also built cinder block shelves that I added to hold my art books and other treasures. If I waited around for the perfect space I wouldn’t get anything done, so I make it work. (On a side note, we’re house hunting again, and we’ve agreed that we’ll be happy with a tiny living space as long as we have vast spaces for our studios.)

My studio is pretty quiet, apart from my husband composing next door, and it has good energy which is important. Our house is an extension of my studio; I have an area for ceramics and candles, am often making at the kitchen table and use the living room as my rotating art gallery for studio visitors.

As an alternative, I’ve tried renting a studio space away from home, but this didn’t work for me. I need to live with my studio so I can wander out with a cup of coffee in the morning to see what I made the night before. I need to be able to carry wet paintings into the house to live with them a while and see what they feel like.

Realistically, it can be incredibly challenging to carve out the space you need, and you might find you have to be quite resourceful and flexible to make things work. I feel it is important to set up a creative space whatever the size so that it feels like your secret clubhouse hideout from childhood; someplace that you stock with the supplies that will excite you. If you don’t have a room, have a stocked suitcase that you can bring out and conjure that sacred space where you are free to do whatever you want. When I lived in New York City for a year, I had no studio space and so I turned to making small hand-bound art books of tiny paintings. The studio and the work will influence each other. Your available space doesn’t have to hold you back from making something. In our last house, I set up a giant tent in the backyard!

I think it’s an accomplishment to overcome these challenges and not let them hold me back from creating. I have a vision in my head of my ideal studio…big, bright and clean, with plenty of storage for finished work…I’ll get there eventually.


ANNE-LOUISE’S PAINTING MANIFESTO


  • Aim to proceed with a devil-may-care work ethic, both cheerful and reckless to investigate, invent and rediscover.

  • Let the first-hand personal experience of aesthetic arrest be the true north that guides me, allowing room for an epiphany.

  • Aim for nothing less than to create things that transcend oppression, violence, hate, ignorance and existential ennui.

  • Focus on the music over the lyrics. In other words, though there are recognizable objects in my paintings, the subject matter (the “lyrics”) is not what primarily motivates me.

  • Be virtuous in sharing my work​ with the world


“IMPORTANT” ART

I feel strongly that people should be more discerning about when they use the word “important” to describe art. Often what they mean is that a particular work of art or artist is currently influential, popular or expensive. This does not make it important. What the world needs more of are cultural offerings, which inspire and strengthen humanity's more virtuous qualities like empathy, sensitivity to beauty and love of life.


MORE ON ANNE-LOUISE

Online store: EwenStudio.com

Portfolio: EwenFineArt.com



“Creativity takes courage.”—Henri Matisse

The Art to Scone Making

Ben Ashby

THE ART OF SCONE MAKING


By: Debbie Anderson || The Scone Lady

Photography: Kimberly Taylor

 

 

 

Walk into a tearoom in the UK and order a scone, and you will be given three options —plain, sultana (with golden raisins), or cheese.  Google “scones” here in the US, and you will find that the flavor options are limitless.  There are recipes for everything from the traditional plain (or cream) scone to a wide and creative variety including blueberry, cranberry, pumpkin, gingerbread and countless other flavors and combinations.  We Americans have taken the traditional British teatime treat and added our own unique twists and creativity to that simple little quick bread.

When I first started baking scones, I began by working my way through a book of scone recipes.  Each recipe was specific to a particular flavor of scone and seemed to require significantly different ingredients than the previous recipe.  It actually became fairly annoying to have to go on a search through the pantry to find out if I had all the ingredients needed to bake a particular flavor of scone.  Many, many of those early scone-baking sessions resulted in the neighborhood birds and squirrels enjoying a scone feast—for countless recipes resulted in dry and tasteless scones.  

 

 

 

 

As I became more adept at scone baking, I began to understand that the secret to flavor variety was not going to be found in a cookbook of 100 different scone recipes.  Rather, the key was to find a good base (plain) scone recipe (or scone mix) and then learn how to adapt that scone into a multitude of flavors.  If the plain scone wasn’t good—then no amount of additions and toppings were going to improve its flavor.  

And so the quest began. I finally found a scone recipe which met all of my criteria for the perfect scone, and over time I learned how to change it to create distinctly different flavors.  Sometimes that adaptation was born of necessity—I can’t tell you how often I stood in front of the pantry frustrated that I was out of sugar—or chocolate chips—but I had brown sugar on hand, or canned pumpkin—and suddenly a new flavor was born.  It does help, I learned, to have completely honest and captive guinea pigs—in my case, my then-teenage children and their friends, who were always in and out of the house and more than willing to sample a new scone flavor. 

I have learned a few things over the years—and made a lot of mistakes as well.  I was convinced that there was no mistake anyone could make that I haven’t already made—until one of my customers (a Bed and Breakfast owner) confessed that she set her oven on fire one morning while baking strawberry scones (and sent her husband down the street for an emergency bakery run!).  

 

 

 

 

Creating a different flavor of scone is really pretty simple—as long as you follow a few basic principles of baking.

Keep the total volume of liquid the same as what is called for by the recipe or mix directions For example—suppose you want to make a pumpkin flavor scone, and plan to add some pumpkin puree to the scone recipe.  The puree behaves like a liquid—so you will need to cut back on the liquid called for in the recipe, and replace that liquid with pumpkin puree.  If the recipe calls for 1C liquid, and you want to add 1/2C pumpkin puree, then spoon the ½ C of puree into your measuring cup and then bring the total volume up to 1C with the liquid called for in your recipe (usually cream/buttermilk/milk).  Stir to blend completely, and use when directed in the recipe.

Do not change the total amount of dry ingredients called for by the recipe.  Let’s way that your recipe uses 2C flour, and you want to add oats to the dough.  To do that, you will need to cut back the flour by the same WEIGHT as the oats that you add.  Dry ingredients are most accurately measured by weight, not by volume.  (an easy rule of thumb here—3C of flour weighs 1 pound).

Different ingredients get added at different stages in the scone making process.  You have three basic stages of scone making—measuring the dry ingredients into the bowl—cutting in the butter, and then blending in the liquids to create your dough.  In general, dried spices get added to the flour mix, before cutting in the butter.  Nuts and dried fruits can be added after the butter is cut in, but before the liquid is added.  Fresh or frozen fruits are best folded into the dough gently after the dough is made, but before you cut the scones (see side bar for specifics).  I learned this one the hard way—I was making blueberry scones for the first time, and put the berries into the bowl after the butter was cut in—then tried stirring in the buttermilk.  Immediately the berries began to crush and spread blue juice and goo throughout the dough.  That batch of scones has been immortalized in our family history as the day mom created Smurf scones!

 

 

 

 

Some of the easiest ways to change the scone flavor include:

Swapping brown sugar or a combination of white and brown sugar for the granulated sugar usually indicated in the recipe. 

Adding dried fruits or nuts to the dough.  Classic is always a winner.  If you want to kick the results up a notch, toast the nuts before adding them to the flour and butter mixture.  It not only intensifies the flavor but it helps maintain the texture and crunch during the baking process.  

Enhance the flavor with spices, extracts, or citrus zests.  Spices such as cinnamon, ginger, cloves, allspice, and nutmeg are natural add-ins, depending upon the flavor you are trying to produce.  Citrus zests will also flavor the dough, as well as enhance the flavor of many different fruits you might be choosing to add (think blueberry lemon or cranberry orange).  Dry spices can be added before the butter is cut in; zest should be added after cutting in the butter, but before adding the liquid.  If you are adding extracts, stir the extract into the liquid ingredients before adding them to the bowl.

Add fresh or frozen fruits to the dough.  If you are using frozen fruit, do NOT thaw the fruit before adding it to the dough.   In general, soft fruits and berries are best added gently by hand once the dough is completely formed, but before you cut the scones.  Roasted apples are an exception and can be added to the butter/flour mixture, before the liquid is added.  

Fruit or vegetable purees can be substituted for much of the liquid ingredients.  Remember to keep the total volume of liquid equal to the amount of liquid called for in the recipe—otherwise you will end up with a very soupy dough.  Substituting purees for some of the liquid ingredients works particularly well in recipes that call for cold butter to be cut into the flour mixture, and then a liquid such as buttermilk, milk, or cream to be added. I would be cautious about this substitution when there is no butter in your ingredient list.  In this case, the recipe likely calls for heavy cream, and the cream is then the sole source of fat for the baked scone.

 

 

 

 

During the holiday season, I like to take my plain scones and dress them up with holiday flavors.  My current favorites include Cranberry Gorgonzola , Apple Ginger, and of course Pumpkin Spice.

 

Pumpkin Spice Scones—Using your favorite plain base scone recipe (see below if you are still searching for the perfect scone recipe) or mix, make the following additions/substitutions:

  1. Add 1T pumpkin pie spice to the dry ingredients, and stir to distribute evenly

  2. Cut in butter as directed

  3. Substitute half to 2/3 of the total liquid called for in the recipe with pumpkin puree (NOT pie filling!).  Blend the puree into the milk/cream/buttermilk, and then follow the recipe as directed to create your dough.

  4. Pat out to a thickness of ¾-1”, cut into desired shape.  Bake immediately or freeze dough for baking later.

* The baking time might be extended by a few minutes, since the pumpkin puree adds to the density of the dough.

Cranberry Gorgonzola Scones —These scones smell absolutely wonderful in the oven, and are a perfect addition to a lunch or supper of soup and salad.  Again, start with your favorite base recipe or mix.  

  1. Once the butter has been cut in, add 4-5 oz (a small container from the grocery store) crumbled gorgonzola cheese.  

  2. Add milk/cream/buttermilk as directed and form your dough.  

  3. Pat out the dough on a floured surface and add a generous handful of fresh or frozen cranberries to the top of the dough.  

  4. Fold the dough over onto itself 2-3 times (again, do not overwork or knead) and re-pat the dough to the desired thickness (I recommend ¾-1” thick). 

  5. Cut into desired shapes and bake immediately or freeze dough to bake later.

 

 

 

 

Apple Ginger Scones—these are a little trickier to create, but are well worth the effort. 

You will need: 

  1. 1C roasted apple chunks (peel, core and dice 2-3 baking apples.  Place on cookie sheet and bake at 375 until fork tender—15-20 minutes).  Cool completely before using.)

  2. 1T Powdered Ginger

  3. 1/2C unsweetened applesauce

  4. Molasses (2T or so)

  5. 1/2t cinnamon

  6. 1/2t allspice

  7. Brown Sugar

(When I make these, I actually usually start with our (Victorian House Scones) Gingerbread Scone Mix.) 

If you are starting with a plain base recipe

  1. Substitute brown sugar for the white sugar.  

  2. Add 1 heaping T of powdered ginger, 1/2t cinnamon, and 1/2t allspice to the flour and other dry ingredients.  Stir to distribute spices evenly.

  3. Cut in the butter as directed by the recipe.  Add the cooled roasted apples to the mix and stir to distribute throughout the mixture.

  4. Blend together 2T molasses and 1/2C unsweetened applesauce, then bring up to 1C (or total volume) called for in the recipe.  Stir into the flour/apple/butter mixture to form the dough.  (if less total liquid is called for in the recipe, reduce the molasses and applesauce proportionately).

Turn out onto a floured board, pat to desired thickness, and cut into desired size and shape.  Bake immediately or freeze the dough to bake later.

 

 

 


 

Scone Making Basics Sidebar

Use cold (or even frozen) butter when making scones.  A very easy way to cut in icy cold butter is to first grate it with a cheese grater.  Wrap it lightly and freeze for 15-20 minutes (while you assemble the rest of the ingredients).  When you are ready to use the butter, drop it into the bowl, and cut it in with a pastry cutter, or mixer or food processor.  It will go in very quickly, and leave perfect little nubbins of butter scattered throughout the mixture.

 

Handle the dough very minimally.  The less the dough is handled and kneaded, the lighter it will be.  I once saw a demonstration where the woman was incorporating the liquid into the butter/flour mixture with her hands—or rather, with just ONE hand.  When asked why, her comment was that this way she would have scones, not STONES.  Using both hands together would result in the dough being kneaded and overworked thus yielding tough and dry scones.

 

To add fresh or frozen fruit to the dough, pat the dough into a circle as if you were getting ready to cut your scones.  Put a generous handful of fruit such as blueberries on top of the dough.  Gently fold the dough over the fruit 2-3 times, and then gently re-form the circle.  This process will work the berries into the center of the dough.  Take care not to overwork or knead the dough.  Reform the circle and cut the scones into desired shape.  

 

 

Links to some basic scone recipes or mixes

www.elmwoodinn.com/recipes/elmwood_scones.html  (offered with permission of Bruce and Shelly Richardson of Elmwood Inn Fine Teas)

www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/scones-recipe

(Each of the above recipes call for eggs.  Not all scone recipes need eggs—our mix uses no eggs, and buttermilk rather than heavy cream or half and half.)  Ultimately your favorite scone recipe or mix is going to be what you believe tastes the best!


Gooey Butter Cake

Ben Ashby

There aren’t many recipes as easy as this one. A very humble dish, that becomes a non-complicated go to. This gooey butter cake recipe is perfect to make as a snack or a dessert and will likely remind you of a chess bar, but is much easier to make.

RECIPE

Preheat oven to 350 and grease a 13x9 baking dish.

Crust: 1 box yellow cake mix, one beaten egg, 1 stick melted oleo. Combine ingredients to form a dense dough. Spread along bottom and sides of a well greased baking dish.

Filling: 1 pound powdered sugar, 2 beaten eggs, 1 block softened cream cheese, 2 teaspoons good vanilla.. Whip together until fluffy. Pour over crust. Bake for 30 minutes or until golden. An over-baked cake will be less gooey than you’d like, but still delicious.

Classic Orange Juice Cake Recipe

Ben Ashby

Orange Juice Cake

This recipe was a staple for every church potluck, funeral dinner, or just a go-to everyday cake. It’s super moist like pound cake.


1 box yellow cake mix

1 box instant vanilla pudding

4 eggs

½ cup vegetable oil

1 cup orange juice

¼ cup brown sugar 

¼ cup pecans, chopped


GLAZE

½ cup butter

1 cup sugar

¼ cup orange juice


1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Mix cake mix, pudding mix, eggs, oil, and orange juice together.

2. Grease Bundt pan. Spread brown sugar and chopped nuts in the bottom.

3. Pour batter in pan; bake 35–40 minutes.

4. For glaze, melt butter in saucepan, add sugar, orange juice; bring to boil, stirring constantly.

5. After removing cake from oven, pour glaze on cake; cool 15–20 minutes; then invert onto plate.

The Enduring Legacy of Yellowware Pottery: A Journey Through Time

Ben Ashby

Yellowware, a type of utilitarian pottery known for its distinctive yellow-hued glaze, has a rich history that spans centuries. Sometime in 2022 I started collecting yellowware without realizing it would become a collection. By the Christmas of 2023 I had a pie safe full.




1. Origins and Historical Background:

  • Earthenware Roots: Yellowware finds its roots in the late 18th century, emerging as an evolution of earlier earthenware traditions. Early American potters sought to create a durable, affordable alternative to more expensive ceramics.

  • Colonial America: The popularity of yellowware surged in the United States during the 19th century, particularly during the Colonial Revival period. American potters drew inspiration from European ceramics but put a distinctive twist on the designs.

2. Characteristics of Yellowware:

  • Yellow Glaze: The defining feature of yellowware is its vibrant yellow glaze, achieved through the use of natural oxides, often derived from iron. The intensity of the yellow hue can vary, ranging from pale buttery tones to deep mustard shades.

  • Salt-Glazing Technique: Many early examples of yellowware were salt-glazed, a process where salt is introduced into the kiln during firing, creating a unique surface texture and enhancing the pottery's durability.

  • Simple Forms: Yellowware pieces typically feature simple, functional forms. Common items include mixing bowls, pitchers, mugs, and various kitchen utensils. The simplicity of design reflects the utilitarian nature of these pieces.



3. Utilitarian Use in American Homes:

  • Kitchenware: Yellowware gained popularity as everyday kitchenware in American homes. Its affordability and durability made it accessible to a broad range of households, and its distinct appearance added a touch of warmth to kitchens.

  • Variety of Shapes and Sizes: From nested mixing bowls to pitchers with embossed patterns, yellowware came in a variety of shapes and sizes, catering to different culinary and household needs.

4. Collectibility and Rarity:

  • Collector's Items: Over time, yellowware has become highly collectible. Antique enthusiasts and collectors appreciate the historical significance, craftsmanship, and visual appeal of these pottery pieces.

  • Rarity and Valuation: Certain variations, such as those with intricate patterns or unusual forms, are rarer and more valuable. Collectors often seek out these unique pieces to add to their collections.




5. Preservation and Restoration:

  • Challenges of Preservation: The fragility of yellowware poses challenges for preservation. Collectors and museums must handle these artifacts with care to prevent damage to the delicate glaze and forms.

  • Restoration Efforts: Skilled conservators work to restore damaged yellowware pieces, carefully addressing issues like cracks, chips, or glaze loss. These efforts aim to ensure that these historical artifacts can be appreciated for generations to come.

6. Contemporary Appreciation and Revival:

  • Artistic Inspiration: Contemporary potters draw inspiration from the aesthetics of yellowware, incorporating its warm tones and simple designs into modern ceramic creations.

  • Revival in Home Decor: The nostalgic charm of yellowware has led to a revival in home decor. Reproduction pieces, inspired by traditional yellowware, can be found in homes, creating a bridge between the past and present.





Yellowware pottery, with its distinctive yellow glaze and utilitarian roots, stands as a testament to the ingenuity of American potters and the enduring appeal of simple, functional design. From its humble origins in Colonial America to its status as sought-after collector's items, yellowware pieces continue to evoke a sense of history and charm. As these artifacts find new life in contemporary homes, the legacy of yellowware lives on, connecting generations through the shared appreciation of a timeless and vibrant ceramic tradition.

Crafting Dreams: A Poetic Journey into Quilt-Making

Ben Ashby

In the quiet realm where threads whisper and dreams unfold, the art of quilt-making takes shape. It is a journey that transcends time, weaving together fragments of stories, memories, and the very essence of the human spirit. This poetic essay embarks on a lyrical exploration of the intricate dance between hands and fabric, as a quilt blooms from the fertile soil of creativity.

In the soft glow of dawn, the quilter, a silent architect of warmth and comfort, begins her pilgrimage. The sacred space, her atelier, resonates with the hum of anticipation. Cotton, like clouds, lies in repose, waiting to be transformed into a tapestry of dreams. Each piece, a harbinger of stories, carries whispers of laughter, tears, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind.

The quilter's hands, weathered by time and blessed by the touch of generations past, caress the fabric. With a tender reverence, she selects hues that mirror the palette of memories - the golden warmth of summer, the azure depths of endless skies, and the muted tones of autumnal nostalgia. The pieces come alive, converging in a kaleidoscope of colors that dance like fireflies in the twilight.

Thread, an ethereal strand that binds the quilt's destiny, cradles the dreams woven into each stitch. The needle, a conductor of symphonies untold, pierces through layers, connecting the present with the echoes of yesteryears. With each gentle pull, the quilt unfolds its secrets, revealing the stories etched in the fabric's very fibers.

As the quilter navigates this sea of memories, she encounters the labyrinth of emotions stitched into the quilt. Love, like a river, flows seamlessly, creating intricate patterns that reflect the interconnectedness of hearts. Loss, a shadow that dances on the edges, is embraced by the warmth of the quilt, transforming pain into a tapestry of resilience.

The quilt, a living, breathing testament to the passage of time, takes shape like a phoenix rising from the ashes of disparate fragments. It is a patchwork of triumphs and tribulations, a reflection of the human spirit's ability to mend and persevere. The quilter, an alchemist of sentiment, stitches hope into every fold, crafting a sanctuary of solace and rejuvenation.

In the final embrace of completion, the quilt unfurls its majestic wings. It is a testament to the quiet strength of the quilter's hands, a homage to the threads of shared experiences, and an ode to the timeless tradition of quilt-making. Each square, a chapter in the story of resilience, converges into a harmonious whole - a symphony of memories, a blanket of love.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a palette of hues upon the quilt, it becomes a vessel of warmth, ready to cradle weary bodies and restless souls. The quilt, a living testament to the artistry of creation, now whispers tales of courage and connection. In its folds, we find not only shelter but a woven sanctuary, a vessel for dreams to rest.

In the heart of quilt-making, we discover a sacred alchemy where memories, emotions, and creativity converge. It is a poetic dance, a timeless journey that transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. The quilt, like a celestial constellation stitched with love, invites us to wrap ourselves in the comfort of shared stories, reminding us that, in every stitch, dreams find their eternal abode.






American Made Makers: Rust & Wicks Candles

Ben Ashby

As the Christmas season rolls on there are so many makers out there, especially those making by hand here in America that deserve to be highlighted, celebrated, and cheered on. As we continue our Christmas season we are thrilled to showcase a few of our favorite American made makers!

Today we begin the week long series with Rust & Wicks, a candle company based in Northern California. Owner and founder Grace shares with us a bit more about her business, her inspiration, and her love of American made.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS: Rust & Wicks is a handcrafted Northern California scented soy Candle company inspired by slow cabin living and growing up in a small town in Mendocino County, Comptche. 

WHY CANDLES: I’ve always had a passion for candles, I can pinpoint when the passion started which was on a gold rush field trip in 4th grade where we did candle dipping. I begged my teacher to let me stay at that station and  she let me. I’ll never forget that and the women running the station. She was so sweet and genuinely loved candles and I just remember thinking it was the coolest job. 

WHY BE A SMALL BUSINESS OWNER: I am a small business owner because of many reasons but 1 being I started with 50 bucks and my stove. I’ve grown this candle company slowly and at my own pace. Slowly expanding and teaching myself all the aspects to running a small business. 

WHAT IS THE BIGGEST ASSET TO BEING A SMALL BUSINESS OWNER: I think you get a sense of community with your customers that box stores will never be able to do. I had a girl about 15 run to my booth once and she was almost in tears (of joy) and said my candles help her sleep at night. She was so sweet it was incredibly heart warming. I’ll never forget her and she is the reason we small businesses keep going. Sometimes it’s easy to feel like why am I doing this? And someone from your customer community says something like that and you snap out of it. 

WHAT IS THE BIGGEST DRAWBACK: Wearing alllllll the hats! Haha. 

WHAT DOES THE CHRISTMAS 2023 SEASON LOOK LIKE FOR THE BUSINESS: It is going to be back to back makers markets until Christmas. It’s a lot but so invigorating and fun to meet so many people that love handcrafted goods. Then it will be cozy on the couch with my two sons and husband. 

TELL US ABOUT WHAT YOU’RE GIVING AWAY FOR OUR 2023 CHRISTMAS GIVEAWAY SERIES: I am giving away our Woodland Collection Candles in Orange Peel + Redwood 

This scent is my best seller and the same fragrance that sweet girl said helps her sleep.  

It says winter to me, it reminds me of a crisp winter day gathered outside making garlands and orange pomanders. It’s a blend of  that sweet smell when the cloves push into the orange and twisting evergreens  together to deck the halls. A memory I cherish deeply.


WHAT INSPIRES YOU: I am Inspired by the trees! I love Northern California and it’s Beauty. From the towering redwoods to the gorgeous Pacific Ocean, northern California has my heart. 


WHY SHOP SMALL: Because small businesses are what keep us thriving. They put back into our communities. They care about craftsmanship, quality and their consumer.


WHY SHOP AMERICAN MADE: It’s so important to shop American made. You’re not only keeping American based jobs thriving and growing, you’re increasing the demand. Which we all benefit from. You support more than just American workers, but their families, safe working conditions and child labor laws. 

TO SHOP & LEARN MORE CLICK HERE

American Made Totes! | Gift Guide

Ben Ashby

Another Christmas season is here, which seems odd. These years are flying by too fast. I don’t particularly remember the past two Christmas seasons, but I know they too came and went too fast. Today begins our annual American-Made Gift Guide season. A tradition we have done for twelve years. We begin this season with one of my perennial favorite categories….the tote.

I am a firm believer in the power of a well made tote. I almost always have one or two with me. Quick on the go bags for carrying everything or carrying things for a specific task. I have cheap bookstore totes for the gym, but for the other tasks in life I have a quality American made tote or twenty in my collection.

These are all brands I have loved for a very long time. I love their quality and their designs. Today’s gift guide is just the beginning of this season. We’ll go deeper with each brand as the season progresses on.

LOYAL STRICKLIN.

FOUNT LEATHER GOOD

FORESTBOUND BAGS

BRADLEY MOUNTAIN

RED HOUSE VERMONT

STURDY BROTHERS

Creating Halloween Memories: Johanna Parker

Ben Ashby

Few people can say they are as devoted to Halloween as Johanna Parker, of course it isn’t as difficult to fall in love with the holiday when it is also your birthday. Johanna Parker, the namesake of Johanna Parker Design has spent her life loving Halloween and collecting anything that represented the holiday for her. Now a folk artist, Johanna creates inspired and inspiring creations of papier mache reflecting all of the memories and joy that the season brings to her life.

How did you get started with Folk Art? How did you start creating folk art as a business? My mother lead the way along my path to creating folk art. In my early years, she was a weaver and textile artist, and I followed her to various art show exhibitions. Clearly, I was interested in art as well, and at the age of 12 she invited me to make my own goods and sell them at fairs by her side. I stitched pillows and samplers, painted blocks and gnarled branches and illustrated on paper bags just to name a few. These creative explorations helped me find my niche, and through the years I realized how much I enjoyed crafting and sharing my creations with others.


I started Johanna Parker Design at the tail end of a 6+ year career in TV news graphics. The high pace of news art direction left little time to nurture my creative side and whimsical imagination. So, on a whim, I decided it was time to fly and follow my passion for folk art as a new career. I began sculpting vintage-style Halloween characters, photographed my pieces and started submitting my work to show promoters and magazines.

Have you always been a designer and creator? Yes. Mom tells me that I was drawing people with five fingers at the age of 3. Fortunately, she nurtured my talents, and I was always creating art. I was that girl in elementary school that was constantly nominated by her classmates to paint the posters and visual aids for the team. And, somewhere, I have a dusty box of blue ribbons from childhood art contests from my school days.

How did you get started creating? I believe that my mother being an artist intrigued me as a child, and of course I too wanted to play along and be included. She supplied me with crayons, colored chalk, markers and paint, and family friends were always dropping off old dot matrix printer paper and other materials for me to draw on. I thoroughly enjoyed the artistic process, and the adults around me saw my potential and cultivated it.

Did you always want to create your own products as a business, or did it start as a passion on the side? I think the idea of creating my own products was always in the back of my mind, but when I graduated from the Art Institute of Colorado, I wanted to explore graphic design. I had visions of being a package designer, but soon jumped at the opportunity to design for TV news. However, I realized that design for TV was not tactile, and I missed working with my hands. To fill the void,I continued to make folk art for the holidays on the side.

How did you get started with papier mâché?

I must have been a teen when mom brought home a bag of papier mache mix for me to  experiment with. Together, we tried our hand at this medium, and it truly resonated with me. Even though my first attempts were extremely crude, I continued to work with it when time allowed and slowly refined my skills at sculpting.

What was your inspiration in creating the brand?

Years ago in art school, I was assigned the challenge to design a logo and letterhead for my own resume as a designer. I decided that “Johanna Parker Design” had a ring and would one day become a recognizable brand that could encompass many different things. A stylized pumpkin with stars, which has now evolved into a jolly jack-o’-lantern, is my logo because I was born on Halloween. Later, I would find that my business would morph into an all-year celebration of Halloween via the collectible holiday folk art characters I create.


How do you find inspiration for your designs, how do you create them?

I am inspired by swirling patterns, vintage hues, nature and the flowing lines and bold shapes of the Art Deco era. My one of a kind folk art characters are each hand sculpted in a multilayered process. My husband and business partner, JP d’Andrimont, fine tunes each piece with carving tools and abrasives. And lastly, I paint each piece with individuality, often adorning each with trims and illustrated hats.

Do you have a favorite?

They are all special to me and bitter sweet to let go of. The time that is poured into each piece shows my dedication to my craft, and honestly it’s difficult to choose a favorite.







Any new upcoming fall projects?

Well, I am currently creating my annual Halloween collection of originals which I will unveil at Denver’s Halloween Trunk Show & at Michigan’s Ghoultide Gathering. Collectors interested in seeing what’s new will just have to “haunt” me down.







When did you first fall in love with Halloween designs?

As a child, Halloween was extra special since it was the day I was born on. Mom would festoon the house in Halloween ephemera which always signaled my delight. When I was old enough to appreciate them, I started gravitating toward vintage Halloween novelties as mom and I loved to haunt the antique stores.








johannaparkerdesign.com








Fried Apple Pies (with Canned Biscuits)

Ben Ashby

I hadn’t had one of these in over twenty years. As I thought about them the week before I was convinced they had to have been something I dreamt, not a long forgotten relic of my childhood, but the more I workshopped this recipe in my head I realized it was a dessert and a scene I had had many times before. When I was a child my aunt would make fried apple pies. I remember her making them here, in her brother’s kitchen rather than her own. Yesterday I made them based on those nearly forgotten memories. Part of me felt wrong in making them on the counter by the sink rather than to the right of the stove. The memory in my mind of Aunt June making them here in this kitchen was her standing in front of the stove, me on a stool beside her by the door into the then dining room. Each of the canned biscuits, Grands, the buttery kind were rolled out as thin as possible, and apples were spooned on. The apples back then would have come from the orchard out back, the orchard that the tornado carried away a couple years ago. She would spice the apples with cinnamon and sugar, and most likely that canned mix called Apple Pie Spice. A fork, taken from the same drawer I took one today would have been used to crimp the edges to hold the apples in. Then in a cast iron skillet, perhaps the very one I used today would be filled with a half inch of oil, heated, and the pies each placed in and fried until golden brown. The pies removed from the skillet and laid to rest on a paper towel lined plate. The same plate surely still in my cabinet next to the window. Watching the pies fry today, in that skillet, in this kitchen, on one of the final fleeting days of fall felt like a walk into the past, it felt good, it felt like a place one should visit whenever one can.

FRIED APPLE PIES (WITH CANNED BISCUITS)

1 Can Grands Biscuits

3 apples, variety doesn’t matter) cooked and seasoned in a baked apple fashion

For these photos I used our apple pie jam as filling as a substitute for the baked apples. It works just as well, especially if apples aren’t on hand and the jam is.

For the recipe I would recommend pealing and slicing your apples into thin wedges. Add to a small pot on medium heat. Add about two inches of water, 1/2 cup sugar and whatever cinnamon/nutmeg/apple pie spice combination you’d like. Allow to cook until the apples are tender.

For the dough take each biscuit and roll as thin as possible. Keep the circular shape. Once rolled spoon in the apple filling on one side of the dough, the other side will be folded over. Leave 1/4 to 1/2 inch edge to allow for crimping.

Fold the other side of the dough over to create a half circle. Using a fork crimp (press down) the edges all the way around to bond the two edges together.

In about 1/2 inch of oil in a skillet over medium heat fry your apple pies until golden brown on each side. Remove to a paper towel lined plate to drain excess oil and to cool.

Serve warm. Can keep in the fridge and be reheated for two to three days.

Ponderings

Ben Ashby

an essay by Shannon Ashby | 2011

When the Old Beda Road was replaced by highway 231 North and South, a valley had to be filled in order for level construction on the new road to continue. The path of highway 231 was originally called the Buffalo Trail or Trace. Native Americans followed buffalo across the shallows of the Ohio River into Kentucky territory where hundreds of buffalo left the river, about where Frederica Street in Owensboro is today, and headed south along the same corridor year after year. The state highway department contacted my grandfather, Orville Tichenor, the landowner. They offered to build a large pond in exchange for the dirt that was needed to fill the deep gully. Sources of water at that time were scarce — no city water … just wells, cisterns and a few springs from which people and animals could drink. Water on the west end of the farm would allow cattle to graze if this small pasture and corn patch could be fenced. Fencing was too expensive, at the time, for my grandparents, but it eventually happened.

The pond was an exciting place for the Beda Community. Couples and families drove in on the large pond bank and emptied their cars for a day of swimming, picnicking and fishing. Often, farm trucks, fancy color cars and other 1940’s vehicles lined the banks. At night it was a favorite place for lovers, or ornery people, to “park” or drink liquor and beer. I never visited the pond at night, but my Papaw would walk to the top of the hill and see if he recognized any of the cars parked there. Oftentimes he would whisper their names to my grandmother.

Beda Cumberland Presbyterian Church used the pond to baptize church goers and wash away their sins into Christianity. It helped a lot because no cattle used the pond at that time and stirring the water helped keep the pond fresh as opposed to stagnant. Church members would walk or drive from the small white wooden church to the pond and the preacher would wade into the water up to his waist. He would then beckon those on the bank, waiting to be baptized, to wade to him. He’d place one arm around the new Christian and raise the other hand high toward heaven, his shirt sleeves dripping with pond water, and pray loud enough for all the gathering to hear. The new convert grabbed hold of his arm as he lowered them backward under the pond water and lifted them back to their feet. It was an inspirational moment that gave you a pacified feeling as church members sang all four stanzas of “Just as I Am, or “I Surrender All”… acapella, in four part harmony.

I remember our closest friends and family, Jerry and Wanda Allen, being baptized in that pond. The pond banks were lined with people around the shallow end. It was a place of notoriety for there were no other farm ponds as close to the highway and church as ours. I think at least one bird dog was converted there as well. Often times the family farm dog followed his master into the water only to be affectionately dunked by the minister. And so it was — the pond on our farm became a significant part of Beda’s social and spiritual life.

After the newness of the pond wore off and the church started sprinkling as a form of baptizing new members rather than immersing them, a new era began. The pond was one of my thinking spots. Mom and I lived with my grandparents for a time and my grandmother (bless her heart) could send me into the “squimmin’ mimmies” in a short period of time. Papaw, who was calm and never laid a hand on me, was totally opposite. When Mamaw got in one of her moods to convince me of my guilt, total unworthiness and to assure me that I was bound for hell, I’d slip out of the house with my Australian shepherd in tow, go around the bend, over the hill and down through the late summer corn and sage brush to the pond bank and pour out my heart to the tiny ripples created by the warm weather breeze. At that time, I was a lonely, only child, with no one to talk to; furthermore, there wasn’t anyone to talk to my Mamaw either. I think most folks were about half scared of her. I’d stretch out on the bank of the pond and listen to the warm breeze, or a slow moving car that occasionally passed. I’d stay just long enough to keep from worrying Papaw.

Twenty years later we fenced in the property and my parents built a small barn to house a flock of as many sheep as we could afford. “Pop O” found twelve ewes from Wyoming – a different breed with white faces. He paid over twenty dollars apiece for them. They grazed the fence line and kept it picked clean. They also kept the pond bank cleared and it could still be easily seen from the highway. We’d always had sheep on the big farm, but not near the pond by us. Sheep are a different kind of farm animal. They attach to their human family like pets. They are sensitive and can be scared to death if you aren’t careful.

Dogs posed a big problem to sheep. If they ever got into a herd and started running them, most ewes would fall on the ground from exhaustion. If you didn’t get them up as soon as it happened, I guess they’d lie there and die with lambs standing by their side. We had one horrible experience with Jerry Allen’s bird dog, Queen. Queenie got off the chain by her dog house and ended up in our sheep. It was mid-winter and the pond had iced over, but not too thickly. The lambs hadn’t started coming yet and the herd hadn’t been sheared. On this cold, snowy, day, Queen scared the sheep and I imagine she circled them. The whole lot ended up on the pond ice, scared, with a dog constantly barking and barking. The ice broke through and we lost every one of them. The pond was too far away from the farm house for anyone to hear Queenie barking. It was devastating to find all the sheep, their wool and lambs gone. In a brief discovery, the sheep could be tracked to the pond, their wool had caught on low branches, briars and underbrush while they tried to get away, but they couldn’t save themselves and we weren’t home to help them.

Later that evening, Jerry Allen came to see Pop O. He held his hat in his hand as he walked into our tiny kitchen. He was a dark-eyed, handsome man and a cousin of my mother. He’d come home from work and found Queenie off her chain and with some evidence that she’d been into something. Wool was tightly pulled about her collar, blood on her face and chest, and she was wet. He told us he’d heard about our sheep falling through the ice and thought Queenie was at fault. He didn’t have to come to us or admit to his dog killing our sheep, but being the man he was, he did. He had a home-owners’ insurance policy with Farm Bureau so we were partially compensated with a check for $200.00

Often, when I look into the vivid green hue of the pond, I think about all the community excitement and the sheep that were there, but that’s been nearly 60 years ago. I’ve ice skated there, all alone, enjoying the quiet…away from Mamaw. I could escape into any world and be anyone I wanted. It was a healthy escape that took me to places so far away that it would take me hours to get where I was going and hours to bring me back again. I’ve canoed and paddle-boated on that pond. It served as a background for a beautiful prom party for one of my sons. We gathered dozens of home-made lanterns filled with sand and lit candles. They cradled the pond’s shore line and gave off a magical glow in the water and on the pond bank. It cast flickering shadows in the woods as if fairies magically created it all.

We don’t allow many people to fish or swim in the pond anymore. Fishing and enjoyment are just for our children, grandchildren and other family members. I even turn people away when they ask. I’ve been known to walk to the pond and tell people to leave for there are some people who don’t ask permission. I guess that’s selfish, but times have changed and so have people.

The pond is fairly well hidden and grown up more now. Her banks are surrounded by birch, cedar, and sycamore. In the spring she becomes forty shades of green and reflects her surroundings like a huge vanity mirror. Buck bushes provide a home to red winged black birds in the summer. This time of the year, I can hear the spring peepers and see a few tadpoles that will become bull frogs. A dead snag of a tree in the water permits turtles to sun …big ones and little ones all bunched together basking in the warmth of the day. The blue gills begin their dance soon. Occasionally there will be turkey or deer tracks around the shallow side. I have one special place, between two pine trees, where I buried Abigal, my favorite cat. This pond has served her purpose well. Papaw deeded her to me when I was twenty-something, to help teach me responsibility and to appreciate her history. We care for her now, no sheep, no traffic, no diving board …just a haven for her wildlife.

Now the pond gives off the sound of the filament being cast from an adventurous family member’s reel and the occasional sound of a frisky bass breaking top water on warm summer nights. It’s time for her to rest now and let us enjoy her beauty. I have to respect her and keep her safe in the winter of her years. I enjoy seeing her every morning as I look out the front windows of our country home. She may look a little differently each day, but I can smile at her and know that we share the same secrets and the passage of time. Those things never change on Shannon’s Acres.





Strawberry Bread Pudding Recipe

Ben Ashby

I feel fairly confident when I say this was the best bread pudding I’ve ever made. I wanted to make a very specific one that felt light after how cold the temperatures had been last week.

In my mind the season for heavy, spice filled desserts had passed. Pumpkin spice season starts in august and blends into gingerbread season, and by January it is time for a flavor cleanse. For many it is time for citrus, and I fully agree, but for me, after the past year at the farm, I wanted something that felt like spring.

Bread pudding is probably my signature dish. I grew up hearing stories of my great grandmother making bread pudding in my kitchen and this in a way connects me to her.

I knew we were launching a new strawberry jam label and I was trying to think of a way to work our strawberry jam into a dessert recipe to serve at one of our luncheons. I asked Christie if she’d ever had strawberry jam in a bread pudding and we quickly workshopped this recipe to life.

The key to this keeping its fresh light flavor and feel is not cooking the strawberry jam. I whipped it with softened cream cheese to create a topping for the bread pudding rather than folding it into the baked mixture like I do with apple butter in the fall.

In October Laurie had been on a brioche kick and I ended up with a loaf in the freezer. I typically have my freezer full of frozen Amish Friendship Bread, but for this recipe I wanted to use her brioche.


A couple of years ago someone recommended that I use sweetened condensed milk in my bread pudding and it has been a game changer, for this recipe though I went one step further and used dulce de leche for the base.

THE RECIPE

1 Loaf Brioche or other bread. (Whole Foods makes an amazing brioche)

1 can dulce de leche

1 cup whole milk

4 eggs

1 cup white sugar

2 teaspoons quality vanilla extract

1/2 cup chopped candied pecans


Mix together all ingredients, excluding the bread in a large mixing bowl. Cube bread into rough one inch cubes. You can use any bread, but I prefer one with a bit of sweetness. Amish Friendship Bread, Brioche, or even a sourdough work perfectly. Add cubed bread to the wet mixture and stir to coat a decent amount of the bread. Pour into a well greased baking sheet. A 9x9 or 10 inch round pan work well.


Cover with foil (to prevent the top from burning) and bake in a 350 degree oven for forty minutes to one hour or until the wet mixture has sat.

Top with your favorite whipped cream and the strawberry cream cheese mixture. For this recipe I whipped one of our half pint strawberry jams with a softened block of cream cheese and whipped in a stand mixer until fluffy. Serve warm or cold. Keeps well for two to three days, but is usually eaten long before that.

Our strawberry jam is grown here in our county and is made using the freshest berries possible. All grown on a local farm the old fashioned way. If you are using a store bought jam for this recipe use the very best you can find.

American Made: Mark Albert Boots

Ben Ashby

Mark-1973.jpg

Our story with Mark Albert Boots is in FOLK’s Slow Living issue.

For Mark Barbera a love of well made boots has turned from a sketch and a dream into a full fledged business that hopes to keep a decades old Pennsylvania boot factory alive.

I’m the founder of Mark Albert Boots. It all started when I was a freshman in college in 2015. My style had began to mature beyond sneakers, which led me to the Chelsea boot – a popular, versatile boot for everyday wear. The problem was that I could not afford the likes of Common Projects but did not want to skimp on $90 H&M either. Upon further research, there was really no middle ground. I was home over Thanksgiving break when I had shown my Dad some sketches of Chelseas that I designed. He told me that I should take them to the “local factory” and see if they would make them. First, I had no clue that a local boot factory existed, and second, I was sure they would want nothing to do with a 19 year old and his ideas. 

Regardless, by my father’s insistence, I visited the factory with my sketches. Long story short, I was granted the opportunity to make this design a reality but I had to meet a nearly $13,000 minimum order. At the time, I was working landscaping in the summers and had about $550 to my name so I was a bit discouraged. After some thinking, I decided to pay my friend (and still my content creator to this day) about $300 to make a Kickstarter video. Kickstarter ended up really well and we sold just over $22,000 in 30 days. This gave me what I needed to get started. 

I became obsessed with the factory, its story, and its capabilities. This factory has roots in our town since 1948, and I was fascinated by the potential. Since then, I have shown my products at the most prominent wholesale tradeshows across the globe, from NYC to Florence, Italy. Today, we are a Direct-to-Consumer brand, selling the best product we’ve ever produced at the best prices through our website.

Mark-1960.jpg
Mark-1833.jpg

I think that its important to support the trades that still exist today in the US. It is easy for us to shop based on the best price, given that there are so many options from foreign manufacturers on the market. However, we rarely think about the repercussions of our fast-fashion culture today. Beyond the immense environmental damage caused by the disposable nature of products today, it is also the driving force that is crushing middle class America and further separating the rich from the poor. I firmly believe in buying far less, far better things. Also worth noting, just because something is “Made in USA” absolutely does not mean it’s the best. However, due to the competition from the global economy, those brands still manufacturing in the USA have found that quality is the only thing that will keep them in business, as the prices inevitably will be higher due to higher labor costs.


Our greatest strength is our experience. We can combine over
60 years of bootmaking heritage with modern sales and marketing strategies to completely revitalize this factory, or that was the plan, and its working already in a short year since the real implementation of our direct-to-consumer model.

Our greatest struggle is workforce. Sure, we need to update machines
to modernize the process a bit, but ultimately, workforce will make or break our factory. We have employees here who have worked here for over40+ years, following their mother before them. We have some excellent younger workers as well, but it’s a systemic problem these days to findyounger workers who both value the craft and also value hard-work. Lets face it, the younger generations are entitled. Its sad that everyone thinks they must go to college to be successful. Unfortunately, that has led to a swarm of kids who really would have been better off going to trade school or apprenticing at a business (like ours), who are now stuck swimming in debt. My goal is to really show younger workers

why they should invest their careers in this factory- we are not just
an assembly line. We are a group of incredibly hands-on, skilled craftspeople and our workers should be compensated as such.

I personally love supporting American-made because I’ve found that my clothes last longer, my food quality is higher and so and so forth. It’s been a challenge in the past to find, for example, t-shirts, that are Made in USA. But now, there is no excuse given social media, the internet, and amazing venues like Shop AF who promote American-made makers across the country. Some of my favorites (mostly clothing) are: 3Sixteen, Shockoe Atelier, Bradley Mountain, Jungmaven, Witness Co, Dehen 1920, and Ball and Buck.

Oh man, there are so many about the employees, but I will leave that
to the Meet the Makers section of my website. A super amazing story to me is the way that my family personally ties into this story of Mark Albert.
As I mentioned, the factory is here in Somerset, PA where I was born and raised, and where my family has been for almost three generations. I was in the factory one day, probably 8 months or so after I started working with them, when I was approached by Bill, a partially-retired mechanic and guru of all things mechanical in our factory. He says, “Joe Barbera was a great man,” and I’m thinking “Who the hell is Joe Barbera? My uncle?” then it hits me, he is referringto my Nonno (great-grandfather).
My Nonno was an immigrant from Sicily who was a master shoemaker and cobbler here in Somerset after settling coming to the States. Bill continues to say “Joe used to come into the old factory when we were first getting started and talk shop, give advice and answer any questions about shoemaking that we had.” I was shocked because I had never even met my Nonno, he had passed before I was born, but here I was, standing in a factory where my family heritage has come full circle. It was a surreal moment.

The business has come so far since the beginning. I was honestly just
a nuisance to the factory when I started, sort of that young kid who gets in the way. Now, after taking Mark Albert Direct-to-Consumer, we have seen 246% growth in one year. Our line is exciting, we are growing a strong social media following, and we are building profitable boots

for the absolute best value that the consumer can find out there. The best part is that its been authentic from the beginning, no smoke and mirrors, just following a passion and working with the fine folks who have given me the opportunity since the day I first walked in the door.

I am planning on acquiring the factory this year. Its been a two year process, but it seems like we are finally approaching an agreement.
It has been incredibly tolling, but I am so excited to carry on the torch and hopefully evolve this business in ways we have not yet imagined. We have so many opportunities on the horizon.

In owning the factory, its no longer just about Mark Albert. We have 50 employees and we make thousands of pairs of boots a year for Mark Albert, our work boot line, Silverado, and our other brands. We hope to expand the reach of Made in USA footwear by private labeling for several large retail partners and brands. Lots of uphill climbing to do, but I am so excited to be on this journey.

Curiosity in Every Gaze — Laurie Meseroll

Ben Ashby

Occasionally, you meet people who see the world through fresh eyes. People who carry curiosity in every gaze. People who are never satisfied with one simple answer. (These aren't the nosey neighbors who stare your direction from across the street in efforts to evaluate the kind of person you are based on your landscaping.)

Artists like Laurie Meseroll look at the world with a whimsical curiosity. She sports her curiosity like a clothing accessory. Laurie is a nomad by nature, but is based along the banks of the Red Cedar River, where foxes and deer stroll through her yard leisurely. She stressed the importance of taking your own path, and shared her story with us. 

Tell us about yourself, what were you like growing up?

“I was just a boring little white girl from the Midwest — I’ve lived on a body of water of some sort almost my entire life and spent endless hours of my childhood hiking and exploring, drawing and dreaming. My parents must’ve recognized something in me because I always had a studio or room to create."

When did you start creating? What was the first thing you created?

“Painting was my first language. I honestly don’t remember ever NOT creating —when I was 3 years old one of my paintings was displayed at The Columbus Museum of Art. It was an angel that looks strikingly like my current paintings. Painting provided a means to develop my strong sense of self. My mother still says I never stopped asking questions —‘why?’ was my first word. I’ve always been interested in how and  what people think—and why. She taught me not only how to draw and paint people but also to construct images so I could tell stories about what my people were doing. These were clearly the beginning of my love affair with narrative painting and most importantly I learned how to communicate the meaningful people, places and events in my life."

“I’ve been passionate about my work since I was very young. I never really considered studying anything other than the arts and psychology. My parents were quite keen on my paintings she drawings but held off on the Play Doh so of course my major area of interest was architectural Ceramics. I started in Architecture at Kansas State and finished a BFA from Manhattanville College in Purchase, NY with a major in Studio Art (ceramics emphasis) and minors in Art History and Psychology. My masters is in Architecture from Cranbrook Academy of Arts in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Ceramics is very process-driven so I naturally work on my paintings very much like a would build and fire a series of tiles. I’m very methodical and organized even though it may not be outwardly apparent."

When, where, and how did you learn how to do what you create?

“My mother taught me to draw and set me free with paints. I don’t think I’ve ever actually taken a painting class so I always preface my advice by noting I’m probably not doing anything the right way but it works and it’s fun and I like it.”

What role does creating play in your personal life now?

"My personal life? Everything is about creating, isn’t it?The emotional, physical and spiritual energy of Painting is quieting, calming and meditative. The development of painting skills is complementary to my understanding of the world in general. It’s my primary mode of communication with others outside of my home so I do try to understand what it is I’m saying.  I am painting identities, events, intimate relationships from a perspective that may have been traditionally marginalized. While my images may seem at times to be merely entertaining there is generally a great deal of consideration concerning subjects like particular morals and customs, for example. I’m interested in the way people create meaning in their lives."

What are some of the steps in your creative process?

I work on multiple paintings at once so when I start a new batch I absolutely MUST have the studio space clean and orderly... then it’s a whirlwind of activity and everything goes to hell. Eventually I emerge from the mess with several pieces that are ready to leave the studio and go through my finishing process.

What is your favorite item in your studio?

“Hands down, my general’s carbon sketch pencils are my favorite tools. Two pairs of scissors given to me by my daughter and one from a best friend are always with me and used in almost everything I paint. A vase filled with old paintbrushes from an artist’s estate sale in Woodstock are usually close to me as I paint. I don’t use them but the memory of finding a long-lost friend at that sale makes the vase of brushes more beautiful than a bouquet of roses.”

What's the biggest challenge you face during the creative process?

“Sometimes it’s a challenge to sleep..I don’t have insomnia, I mean sometimes it’s just so interesting I don’t want to stop. It’s like reading a book—I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next as I paint. I tend to hyper-focus, which is a blessing as much as a curse I suppose. Five children could be somewhat of a distraction at times but thanks to my wonderful ability I easily became completely absorbed in my work. My daughter Tatiana refers to this as my “hey mom the house is burning down syndrome”  

What's been your biggest accomplishment?

“I’m still waiting to see what happens next. Anytime I am successful in my attempt to communicate meaning and emotion to an individual give myself a mental high-five. Meeting the people who enjoy or appreciate my work is endlessly fulfilling to me. I can see in their eyes when they look at a painting and relate to it in some way that activates it —the painting is no longer a passive object if in someone’s mind it becomes relived in the present. That’s what it’s all about. I want nothing more in life than to keep that line of communication going.”

Laurie’s work is available through HERE & Earth Angels Studios

Unafraid of Life: A Conversation with @ablicki

Ben Ashby

a conversation with Max Ablicki about life, photography, and lessons from the road. | This story originally ran in FOLK’s Tourists Welcome issue.


I FIRST GOT INTO PHOTOGRAPHY IN HIGH SCHOOL, JUST AS I WAS SORT OF STRETCHING MY LEGS WITH THE NEWFOUND FREEDOM OF HAVING A DRIVER’S LICENSE. I started by simply taking cell phone pictures of the places I’d drive my Jeep, and from there it sort of blossomed into this joy of exploring and sharing the experience of travel, and overall just being present in the moment.

I’m mainly self-taught; however, the first few months with my camera were certainly full of YouTube tutorials and talks with my friends who knew a bit about the craft. The good thing about a camera is that at the end of the day, it’s really just a tool. Once you understand the functions of the tool, you can use it however you need to. I think anyone can pick up a camera nowadays and take some pretty beautiful pictures with just a little playing around, but working on a style is what truly begins to set photos apart and highlight the tastes and ideas of each photographer.

I feel that my own style has been, and probably always will be a work in progress. I started in the early days by mimicking what others were doing on Instagram, but it doesn’t take long to realize that’s not a fulfilling or enjoyable way to practice an art. So over time I began to simply take photos of things that I’m passionate about, and played around with different editing styles and shooting styles before ultimately settling on my current approach, which is to shoot as close to the finished product as possible, and then lightly edit. I like to balance my color images with the occasional black and white, since each one has its own benefits and drawbacks and I don’t want to limit myself to one domain in that area. My current images are intended to show the things that inspire me in an almost photojournalistic kind of way—at the end of the day, it’s an account of me and the things I enjoy, presented in a way that I hope is enjoyable for many.

The themes I explore in my work started out pretty basic, just showing my physical travels in my old car. But as we all know, the more you travel the more you realize travel is a lot bigger than where you physically are. It changes who you are as a person. So now the themes that I try to cultivate and share with my audience are to be unafraid of life, and to be open to inspiration from anything and everything, whatever that may mean to any person who sees my content. I’ve been called a renaissance man for my diverse array of random passions and skills, and I want people to feel similarly encouraged and charged up to be unafraid to try new skills and chase all of their different passions, instead of living with blinders on, chasing one dream and ignoring everything else that’s beautiful around them.

Finding my subjects and locations is almost completely random. Some locations, I hear about through word of mouth and recommendations from friends (though it’s pretty rare you’ll catch me at the known “Instagram banger” spots anymore!); others I find on my own just by perusing maps and/or simply coming across amazing spots on the side of the road. I’m guided by my passions and interests, so at the end of the day whether I’m shooting on a mountain summit, in a canoe, in a restaurant, a luxury home or an off-the-grid cabin, it’s because I am really, really excited and grateful to be there. The people I photograph are typically friends who accompany me on my adventures or share my passions. Again, having an openness to experience and to living opens up the opportunity for you to stop on the side of the road to take a great photo or to talk to an interesting stranger who might show or teach you something incredible.

The way in which I compose a shot depends on the scenario. If I’m shooting a professional project, I often have an idea of what a client expects, and an understanding of the situation I’m dealing with, and therefore might have a few shots in mind or a loose outline of what I’d like to capture. If I’m just out on the road freestyling, pretty much anything goes.

Everything around me inspires my work! I love taking photos, and if I can photograph the things and the people that I love, then I will. I love to cook, I love to get outside and explore, I love to surf, I love hole-in-the wall coffee shops and autumn leaves, and everything from a perfectly manicured fine dining experience right down to a bowl of mac and cheese. I want people to simply be inspired by life and unafraid to reach for the experience they think is out of reach. In the words of the late Anthony Bourdain, who is one of my big inspirations, I want to inspire people to “eat the damn fish.”

My suggestion to newcomers in the field (no matter how cheesy this may sound) is to have fun with it! Seriously, don’t worry about trying to monetize it or make it sustainable. Don’t even worry about trying to be good! Just treat it like play - and have fun shooting for you first, taking pictures of what you enjoy. Keep going in that direction and the rest will come with time! That said, photography is s a tough field to be immensely profitable in. Photography is still essentially my side gig; I work in landscaping full time. Really though, what is money? We’re all just trading around red and green numbers at the end of the day. If photography is your passion, chase it, and don’t make money the priority. With good practice and a true dedication to the craft, money will come.

As for high points in my career, my first few real photo gigs in which a client sought me out (as opposed to me putting in the legwork to find a client) were something really special, and to me just validated that my work was really becoming something to take pride in. Especially as someone who doesn’t specialize in any specific type of photography, it can be difficult to get clients when you aren’t offering something specific, so knowing that I was being sought out purely for my creative perspective was a pretty amazing feeling.

I’d say that the moment I realized that I didn’t need to define my work by any specific genre or style of photography was the defining moment in my career, so far. That understanding really opened up the creative doors for me, even if it slowed down my “photography business.” At the end of the day that’s not why I’m into photography, and instead, giving myself the room to create what I want has led to my photography career feeling much more like a professional hobby, which is fantastic.


If I could start out from scratch, I would definitely become who I am–a guy with no particular specializations in photography–a lot earlier than I did the first time around. In the early days I was so focused on trying to be one “type” of photographer, whether that was taking pictures of cabins or landscapes or cars or whatever.  Looking back now, those are all just callings to different areas of interest for me, and for a long time I was really limiting myself to try to just pick one and stick with it. It took me pretty long to realize that I don’t need to abide by a specific specialization in photography. So, if I had another go at it, I’d definitely want to attain that realization much earlier.

The importance of individuality is the biggest lesson I’ve learned through creating my art. Copying everything everyone else does on social media will definitely get you the likes - but it costs you the soul of your work. When you can step outside of the social media framework and expectations, and not care at all if your work has 10 likes or 10,000, that’s when you get the freedom to create and share what you want.

It’s great to be in a position where you can work for yourself, even if it’s just for a few times a year like it is for me. I’ve spent my whole life working for other people.  Each way of working has its own pros and cons. Working for yourself really gives you that total control and total freedom to run things the way you’d like to, but at the same time, you bear full responsibility for everything, which can be tiring. That’s why I like being my own boss, but only part-time.


If I couldn’t be pursuing photography, I’d be cooking! I’d say I’m equally passionate about cooking as I am about photography, even sometimes more passionate about it. (That’s why my photography has evolved to show a bit of what I like to cook!). One of my favorite things is cooking on an open fire—there is something deeply intimate about it, and it’s a true craft! I’m very inspired by Francis Mallmann, and definitely recommend that anyone interested in cooking and living to the fullest should research Francis Mallmann. A lot of different aspects of life, society, culture, etc. all seem to come to head with a plate of food, and being able to cook well and appreciate food with friends and family is something really special to me.

My biggest pet peeve about the photography industry is the people who are doing it “for the gram.” There’s a lot of them out there in all sectors of social media, not just photographers. In the photography area, though, there are so many people who won’t stop to smell the flowers or appreciate a scene, because they’re too busy trying to crush out a hike to get to a popular photo spot just to snag a photo and then turn around to head to the next spot. Or they’ll ignore countless amazing people or local places like small businesses and restaurants because those things don’t fit in their aesthetic. So generally, I wish the whole scene was just more authentic and transparent. Does social media need to resemble real life? Definitely not! I like that it’s a catalog of our best moments. But do we need to manufacture our best moments or can we instead truly be present, patient, and just simply share our real best moments?

When I first started out, photography was simply the pursuit of something that was interesting to me at the time. It was something I felt drawn to when I first encountered it, and so I followed the path. Even with the ups and downs, photography has allowed me to travel to some incredible places, but also really led me down a path that’s had so many benefits in terms of being an authentic and kind human being with gratitude for everything around me, and that’s all I could ask for.

I’ve touched on this a little bit already, but I truly hope my work inspires people to chase life to the fullest, whether they are aspiring photographers or not. Simply saying yes to new opportunities and being willing to make the moment worthwhile is the answer to life itself, never mind just photography. It started with travel for me, but it can start anywhere. I love to see people try new things and pursue their interests and passions to the fullest in the same way that I try to do - always be open to what life has to offer!

Here in Maine, nothing brings hunters and hippies together more than flannel. It is always the right move.

A New Era of Quilting: A Conversation with @farmandfolk

Ben Ashby

I adore the work of Farm & Folk. They have brought quilt making into the new century in the most beautiful and timeless ways. Familiar classic time honored designs with a fresh feel. I wanted to learn more about Sara, the owner, and her story. | This story originally ran in FOLK’s Tourist Welcome issue.

I’M SARA BUSCAGLIA OF FARM & FOLK AND ANCIENT FUTURE FARM. I’m an organic farmer and textile artist. I work with natural dyes derived from plants and minerals and apply them to organic cotton and linen fabrics, then use the fabrics to make heirloom quality hand-stitched quilts. My family grows a lot of the food that we eat and we’re always striving to be more self-sustainable in that way.

I first became a maker when my first son was born and I took time off from farming to care for him. I found myself a little lonely and needing something to do, so my friend convinced me to buy a sewing machine and a few patterns. That’s how I learned to sew and suddenly I was making my son little clothes and then making myself clothes. Sewing eventually led to knitting and when we bought our farm we got a flock of sheep, which led to me learning how to spin wool into yarn, which led to natural dyeing, and so on.  I think making is like that. Once you make something, the maker’s mindset is instilled in you. You think outside the box of buying something already made and learn how to make it yourself.

Quilt making came to me totally out of the blue about eight years ago. I had been sewing garments for my kids since they were born and had a scrap basket that was overflowing with all the remnants left over from those garments. I was going to send the scraps to the thrift store but had a sudden urge to attempt to turn them into a quilt. That first quilt was a simple patchwork-square quilt, and it came together much more easily than I expected it to. In my head, quilting was something that was very difficult, but it turned out to be a very fun and inspiring kind of challenge, and suddenly I was a quilt maker. That discovery of quilt making was so fulfilling to me because I was able to turn my passion for sewing into an art. Cutting up fabrics and creating expressive shapes that in turn became functional pieces of art felt and still feels radical.

To me, a quilt is a preservation of the maker’s love in the form of fibers and stitches. The colors and patterns that the maker chooses tell a unique and personal story. A quilt can be like an autobiography in that way. My mom has a Cathedral Window quilt that my great grandma made, and it’s a true expression of who my great grandmother was - the bright colors she used on a white background, and her perfect hand stitches. I have quite a few quilts that my grandma made which I was lucky to inherit, and they too are very much an expression of her personality. The brown and white solid and calico fabrics and the perfect tiny hand stitches tell her story and reflect who she was. My mom makes quilts that tell her story, and now I make quilts that tell mine. My choice to naturally dye fabrics, the style that I use to cut the fabrics up and sew them back together, and my imperfect hand stitches are an expression of who I am and my values.

During my journey as a quilt maker, I’ve learned so much about the history of quilts. For example, in 1856, an 18-year-old man named William Perkins was experimenting with synthesizing quinine, an anti-malarial drug. In an experiment with aniline he obtained a black precipitate, which he then extracted in alcohol to create a purple color, which he discovered was an amazing light- and wash-fast dye on silk. He patented his discovery in 1856.  This was the birth of synthetic dyes, which very quickly extinguished the natural dye industry because synthetic dyes were very cheap to produce and easy to apply. So all dyed fabrics and textiles, including quilts of course, were naturally dyed until 1856 when synthetic colors took over.

I believe that once you find your passion as a maker it’s all about commitment to your craft. It has taken me years to become confident in my work with natural dyes and the colors I create, and in my stitches and seams. Putting in the time and research and energy to improve my skill set, to dig deeper, and constantly evolve, is what keeps me going. It took me seven years to learn how to achieve a beautiful strong red on cotton fabric with madder root. These big achievements and the many, many small ones along the way are what keep me going and growing.

At this point I think my biggest success so far was in finding the confidence to launch my website. To put my work out there and begin selling it. That was such a giant leap. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in my quilts, and when they began selling it was such an amazing feeling. It really helped me to have confidence in my work and to make more and to evolve and expand and improve.


Of course, along with successes come failures, but I don’t let the failures get me down. Most disappointing to me was perhaps the experience of failing at making a strong red dye for seven years. Projects that don’t work out after spending hours and hours of working on them can be very frustrating, but failures are so necessary! If I fail at something I get kind of obsessed with figuring out how to succeed. Failure is probably my biggest driving force.

To me, “slow living” means intentional living. You plant the seeds and take care of the plants, weed the garden. You are committed to that work. Harvest is the long-anticipated reward. It’s the polar opposite of buying something on the internet and having it arrive on your doorstep two days later. It’s building a fire on the hearth in winter from the wood you chopped on a hot summer day. It’s canning peaches from the peach tree you planted 15 years ago. It’s the selfless act of planting trees and caring for them and watching them grow slowly with the understanding that those trees will benefit generations of stewards that will come after you.


The biggest part of my way of slow living is planting my garden of food and dye plants. I also plant trees – they are the epitome of slow living! I raise chicks every spring and witness ducklings hatch. I bring in the harvest and fill the larder every fall with the food we grew in the summer. I tend the fire all winter and sew quilts made from fabrics I dyed with plants, and I hand stitch them. And then I do it all again when spring comes back around.


There’s a huge disconnect in modern society. Most people have never thought about where certain things come from. Folks go to the mall and buy a bunch of clothes but don’t really think about what they’re even buying or who made it or how it got to the store. Once I began making things it helped me to connect a lot of those dots. I began thinking about the work that goes into making a dress, for example, and where the fabric came from and how it was dyed and what kind of pollution those processes may have caused, and the people who worked in the factories and what they were exposed to. I don’t necessarily try to inspire people to think about these specific types of concepts but I think that when people see me making a quilt from scratch for instance, and they see all the work and love that goes into creating the colors, it really helps to encourage them to think about ways of slow living. I think when people see other people living slow lifestyles it helps to connect the dots of, for example, where food comes from and all the work and love and commitment it takes to produce it. It’s really easy to be unaware of these things because of all the distractions out there. Ads telling us to buy this and that. It’s not like you hear anything about food production on the nightly news or see garment factories and all the egregiously bad conditions that commercial agriculture workers and textile producers face. There’s plenty of information out there about it but you have to actually look for it, which is difficult when there are so many things distracting us.


I love the saying “do what you can with what you have.” I think that’s a great piece of life advice. Also, knowing that it’s the little things that can collectively turn into really big things. I think the most difficult part in life is making a decision about what you want to do. Once you make the decision, you find a way to make your plan happen and you get there one small step at a time.

I never really thought “I want to be a farmer,” it just happened, and I have never regretted it. I quit college two years in because it was time to choose my major. My advisor kept handing me this printed-out list of majors and told me it was time to pick one, and that I could always change my mind if it didn’t work out. There was nothing on that list that felt right for me and I felt like it would be a big waste of time and money to blindly choose a career. I quit school with the intention of taking a year off to figure out what I wanted to do. I met my husband a few weeks later and we eventually planted a garden which kept expanding and turned into a small farm. We got a booth at the farmers market and that’s how I found my career. It felt right so I kept at it. I figured it out by process of elimination and some good luck, hard work and dedication. I hope to never lose my inspiration because that’s my driving force. To make mistakes and learn from them as a person, as a farmer and as a business. To constantly evolve in all aspects.

Farming has taught me everything. It has been my biggest influence. When I’m out in the field pulling weeds or hoeing and I hear the birds above me, the insects buzzing, I think about the worlds of microbes and mycelial networks at my feet. It’s a serious vibe. It’s a connection to nature and to the food I grow that I cannot describe in words. It’s something you have to experience to understand. I can pause to watch an ant colony in action and gain a better understanding of the world through the ants. When I see the generations of crops sprouting every spring and returning to the earth every fall it reminds me that I am only here for a short time, that I too am part of that infinite life and death earth cycle.

Autumn is the smells of coffee, green chile, and hashbrowns in the morning kitchen. The golden light and crisp air. We harvest our potato crop in October and that always feels like a holiday. We have potato soup for dinner every potato harvest day. We harvest the pumpkins and dry beans and dry corn and store it away in the cellar. We light the fire again and give thanks for this good life.

Southern Cornbread: A Story by @bethkirby

Ben Ashby

Our lives are like layers of soil, histories heaped upon histories, stratified by the major events in our lives. We can rediscover all manner of fossils and artifacts, and in turn fertile topsoil can cover the volcanic ash of the past. We have an infinite capacity for growth, rediscovery, and change, and as I’ve gotten older I’ve rediscovered many things: my feet on the earth, the kitchen, and Tennessee.
— Elizabeth Kirby



My grandmother’s cornbread was a crisp golden brown. It was cast iron. It was a mason jar of bacon grease kept in the cupboard and a jug of buttermilk in the door of the Frigidaire. It was “home again home again jiggity jog”. It was Lincoln logs. It was sitting at her dining room table looking out the sliding glass door onto the back porch where we cracked walnuts and my brother and I smeared lighting bugs onto the pavement in senseless acts of childhood iridescence. It was torn into pieces into a glass of milk and eaten with a spoon. It was badminton and the smell of birdseed. It was childhood, and it was her.

Until a month or so ago when I finally decided to make it myself, I hadn’t tasted cornbread like hers in fifteen years, really didn’t eat cornbread at all. Didn’t bake it either. It might as well of died along with her when I was fourteen. At least it seemed that way for far too long. I didn’t expect her to die when she did. I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t taken notes. I didn’t know what they would do with all her preserves, and I wept. There just didn’t seem to be anything to be done about any of it. It was hard, losing her, and for a few weeks I tried to pretend it simply hadn’t happened. She was like a second mother, and it appeared to me like some impossible necromancy to attempt to make that cornbread, so I just never did. Grandmother was dead, and cornbread was over. That was just how it was or so it seemed. Around the time she passed away I was beginning to develop that girlish sort of madness common at that age, and over the course of my adolescence I drifted farther and farther into the self-obsession that is being a teenager, and by the end I’d forgotten about cornbread, fireflies, badminton, and all that.

But. That was not that. Our lives are like layers of soil, histories heaped upon histories, stratified by the major events in our lives. We can rediscover all manner of fossils and artifacts, and in turn fertile topsoil can cover the volcanic ash of the past. We have an infinite capacity for growth, rediscovery, and change, and as I’ve gotten older I’ve rediscovered many things: my feet on the earth, the kitchen, and Tennessee. In this past year I’ve also put many things behind me, and as I form a new layer in the geological history of my life there is again cornbread and cast iron and therein lie fragments of the intricate, complicated histories of both myself and the south.

Cornbread in milk (or buttermilk) is an older southern midnight snack: when the day’s cornbread had become dry it was torn into pieces and soaked in milk and eaten with a spoon. Last month I sat at my dining room table and eagerly crumbled a piece of cornbread into a glass of raw milk for the first time in fifteen years. The taste possessed the same immediacy of memory as a familiar scent. I almost cried. I was effervescent, prattling on in excitement about how “it’s just like...just like”. None of it was gone at all, not her, not cornbread.

As for the ingredients, I use freshly milled corn from both Simple Gifts Farm (a beautiful roughly hewn mix of blue, red, and yellow corn from the Signal Mountain market on Thursdays) and River Ridge Mills (a finer textured yellow corn from the Main Street market on Wednesdays). I prefer to use the former for the coconut cornbread and the latter for the buttermilk as it gives it the most traditional taste and texture, the one I remember. I use Cruze Farms Buttermilk and bacon grease from Link 41 bacon that I save in a dedicated mason jar. I often use canola oil or coconut oil in place of the bacon grease in the buttermilk cornbread, content to merely smear the bacon drippings on my pan.

CAST IRON CORNBREAD

Whether you like it slathered in butter or drizzled with honey, plain or with milk like I take mine, each of these two variations has it’s own virtues. So I give you cast iron cornbread, two ways: the classic buttermilk and bacon grease cornbread of my youth and my own nouveau southern interpretation using coconut oil and cultured coconut milk. Southern food is an ever evolving, living organism with new innovations constantly being born of traditional recipes, and I think making the food your own is important. It keeps our cuisine vital. So feel free to play with fats, the cornmeal, the liquid, and various flavorings. I’m a purist so I don’t tend to put cheese and the like in my cornbread, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. These recipes are blank slates for endless sweet and savory variations if you like.

BUTTERMILK BACON GREASE CORNBREAD

Ingredients

1 1/4 cup (175 g) cornmeal

3 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

3 tablespoon bacon grease, vegetable oil, or shortening

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1 cup (240 g) buttermilk

1/4 teaspoon baking soda, dissolved in a bit of water

Bacon grease for greasing the pan

Heat oven to 425°. Grease a cast iron skillet with bacon grease and place in the oven while it heats. Mix the first four ingredients in a medium mixing bowl. Cut in the fat with your fingers or two knives, mixing well until you have a sandy texture. Combine the eggs and the buttermilk, add to the dry ingredients, and mix to combine well. Add the baking soda and stir to combine. Pour the mixture into the hot skillet and bake for 20 minutes. Invert onto a plate. I like to serve it upside down with the nice crispy side up like she did.

CULTURED COCONUT MILK CORNBREAD

Variation

Substitute 3 tablespoons refined coconut oil (you need refined coconut oil as opposed to unrefined to withstand the heat of baking) for the vegetable oil, and 1 cup of cultured coconut milk (can be found in the dairy aisle usually next the kefir) for the buttermilk. Grease the skillet with the coconut oil as opposed to bacon grease.


10 Years of FOLK: The Best of Issue

Ben Ashby

This issue was supposed to come out in December 2021, but the tornado that hit the farm delayed its release. It is now printed and ready! We hope you will order your copy today.

Eleven years ago we started the FOLK journey. Okay. umm, typing that feels insane. I don’t think I’m fully grasping what I am typing. Taylor Swift plays in the background. The farmhouse is filled with art, American made goods, and miscellany, the garden is growing, life is slow as the cicadas sing along to the speakers and I sit here at my dining table with my laptop and a glass of ice tea and write this again…eleven years ago we started the FOLK journey. Wow. It has been a journey. The highest of highs and lowest of lows of my life and I wouldn’t trade a single triumph, success, failure, or lesson for anything. I thank each of you for joining us on this journey, for allowing us to grow, to fail, to learn, to make mistakes, to explore, to wander, to ramble, and to journey together. 

This coming 2023 we will explore those first ten years on social and on the blog, but in print we will launch what I feel is the best product we’ve ever created…our ten year best of issue. It is our new standard softbound book format and is the very best of the best of our stories from the first ten years. If you’ve never ordered anything from FOLK, this is the thing we ask you to grab. It will NOW. The pre-order on it is really important as we have no idea how many to print. The issues is currently printing so it will mail the first week of January.

The issue takes us from issue one up to the current issues. We do a heavy focus on our favorite essays, American made profiles, and recipes. This is one of those books you’ll want on the shelf for many years to come. 

We designed it for those that have joined us for this journey…a journey that started as a college summer project and has grown into a global community of those seeing to live authentic. 

FOLK: BEST OF

The First Ten Years

Full Color

Stories from all ten years of FOLK. Over 20 stories, essays, and conversations + recipes

If you would like to order click here | If you would like to carry it in your shop email wholesale.folk@gmail.com