
Martha Kirkpatrick
Stories (3)
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Rugged, Salty, Local
“If you’ve swum in the ocean here, you’ve tasted our product!” Heidi Feldman proclaims. She elicits a laugh from a customer as he peruses rows of neatly-stacked glass, bamboo cases, and a few cartons of chicken eggs. Selecting a jar labeled “Sumac, Paprika, and Garlic,” the gentleman brings it to eye level and carefully rotates it in the morning sunlight. Adorned with flecks of blue-green seaglass - all recycled - the container’s exterior contrasts the earthy, golden hues of its contents.
By Martha Kirkpatrick4 years ago in Feast
Grain Migration
At midnight, Morning Glory’s Farmstand would be camouflaged if not for the sliver of light emitted from the side entrance. The bakery, the sole source of life from “Mo Glo” during these hours, is nearly hidden away. Cedar shake blends into the quiet scenery of Meshacket Road in Edgartown, but the dulled clatter of pans and warm glow spilling out into the parking lot hints at activity taking place inside.
By Martha Kirkpatrick4 years ago in Feast
How Martha Got on the Vineyard
While killing time aboard the Minne-Ha-Ha steamboat in the summer of 2008, I cracked open Kitchen Confidential. Perched atop a milk crate, I devoured Anthony Bourdain’s brilliantly crass account of the restaurant world, reluctantly tearing myself away whenever a customer entered the snackbar deck. In between attending to my summer job duties in Lake George, NY, I’d become entranced by Bourdain’s prose and palpable love affair with all things edible. By the end of that summer I’d neglected enough hot dog and popcorn making to finish Bourdain’s other works, The Nasty Bits and A Cook’s Tour, feeling a particular connection to the latter. There was something captivating about Bourdain’s ability to decenter himself from the travel narrative while still managing to convey so much of his own perspective. He got out of the way when depicting other cultures and people, touting and practicing epoché, an ancient Greek concept translating to “I am certain of nothing.” Yet readers could develop a familiarity with what seemed like his most intimate thoughts.
By Martha Kirkpatrick4 years ago in Feast


