A farm is a process, folks! A never ending process, actually, of upgrades, utility problem solving, and efficiency streamlining, all while managing seasonal curve balls and animals with minds and bodies of their own. And all through the barn-raising and post pounding, the ovens remain on and the farm stand continues to both delight and humble. We will keep baking and keep planning the farm. The line between the two has blurred considerably, to the point where the two now seem synonymous.

Something happened this week. The temperature dropped, and suddenly I needed the kitchen heat on. My dough was taking forever to rise, so I said hello to the thermostat. One midnight dough vigil was enough. Then the house got cold too, and we took a long look at our three pallets of wood pellets—delivered only weeks ago—and decided we needed to bust them open. Yes folks, we turned the house pellet stove on, too. If it wasn’t already officially fall, turning the heat on feels like it heralded the change in more formally.

On Sunday August 31st, we had a great time celebrating Riverfest in Frenchtown with a Patullo House Bakery & Mercantile vendor booth in Sunbeam Park! We were also an event sponsor, and were proud to see the crowds enjoying the little town that we so love.

What a fantastic day!

The farm stand has been open a few months now, and word is slowly spreading. We sold out of bread again today and every time that happens it feels like a small victory. My heart sings. For a time there I baked bread, and it rained. I baked bread, and it rained again. Daily, I took excess bread to friends and neighbors and forced them into bread comas.

Our farmhouse minestrone is an end-of-day sigh of relief. Wholesome goodness, from our own lands, with an easy-peasy stress free prep that makes it even more satisfying.

Launch a farm stand in 101 not-so-easy steps…..

Patullo House Farm Stand has been an idea that existed in my mind for what seemed forever. It started with a fold up table, rather unceremoniously wheeled out into our driveway on a little wagon I picked up from Tractor Supply. I zip tied the table to the wagon, and covered the entire, rather inelegant operation, in a piece of black fabric. It was a short jaunt from the garage to the driveway, but offered a neat solution to the copious amounts of bread that was emerging from my oven. To my intense surprise, what started as an endeavor to simply cover my growing ingredient costs—and to find a home for all the food we could not possibly consume ourselves—the demand for baked goods simply…well, rose!