A Morning Harvest, A Supper Story
We arrived before sunrise, the leaves beaded with cold. The farmer laughed about a rogue hen guarding the kale. That chuckle stayed with us, seasoning everything more warmly than pepper ever could.
A Morning Harvest, A Supper Story
Back home, the basket tipped: kale, sun-cracked tomatoes, two stubbornly earth-kissed carrots. We rinsed gently, saving the greens, trimming little roots for stock. Share how you honor every edible scrap.
A Morning Harvest, A Supper Story
By sunset, friends gathered, still smelling faintly of sunblock and basil. We passed a simple stew and a bright salad, telling orchard stories. Tell us who you cook for after market mornings.
A Morning Harvest, A Supper Story
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