Ephemera, Absinthe and Sighs: Oh, January
What's a sigh?
Food as a verb thanks
for sponsoring this series
It's not dry January.
"It's sigh January," my wife said.
Ahhhh, the sigh. An auditory, verbal expression of an inner state. We seem to sigh an awful lot more in the winter than summer. Freezing again? (Sigh.) Two days of rain and fog? (Sigh.)
There are two different types of sighs.
The first? The relaxing sigh, the exhale that comes from sitting next to a warm fire, a bowl of hot soup, a little toddy nearby.
The second type of sigh? It's an exasperated sound, with tired feet, chapped hands, maybe a dash of passive aggressive in it.
The dishwasher broke, the tire's flat, the dog's sick. Charlie Brown missed the football again. That kind of sigh.
Sighing seems to help, like an instinctual or guttural response to life on both ends — warm soup vs. flat tire — of the spectrum.
Yesterday, she looked at the forecast: lows in the teens are coming.
"It's not Dry January. Not Sigh January," she said. "Cry January."
Here's some pick-me-up, anti-cry reading material from our good friend Chef Mallory Grimm.
If you haven't visited LUNCH in Sewanee, put it on your top 2026 list. It somehow matches the coziest with the most beautiful culinary expression: all meals and ingredients sourced from regional growers. Chef Grimm and her team serve meals as if the produce was grown just for the LUNCH menu. They seem to know just what to do.
The Michelin Guide folks enjoyed this immensely. When the new Guide to the American South was released, LUNCH was in it.
Also, Mallory's a writer. Her Late, Late Summer newsletter is one of my favorites to read.
Last week, she announced: a new book of recipes.
It's called EPHEMERA.
It's a cookbook and more.
"A guidebook, a journal, a starting point and is meant to be stained, written in, dog-eared and shared. The book includes recipes inspired by and based on the seasons, with encouragement to flex based on what you can forage, grow or get from local farmers," she writes.
It's available for purchase here.
And, a reminder: this afternoon, Main Street Farmers' Market opens, just like every Wednesday.
Letty Smith at Circle S Farm is selling brisket; Daniel Hernandez is selling arugula, sweet potatoes and brocolini, Belle's Chocolates is taking pre-orders on its Valentine's Day Heart Box, and about a thousand other things — lion's mane mushrooms, milk, sausage, Bird Fork Farm tinctures — will be offered.
Speaking of Bird Fork, this weekend, Alyssa Leon is hosting a herbal tincture class.
(Ahhh, this photo. Sighing. Warm weather. Fruit trees. Short sleeves.)
On March 5, Bill and Wanda Lee from Gate Eleven Distillery are inviting you for a special ceremony, distillery tour and absinthe — what it is, what it isn't — lesson and experience.
"The muse," Bill said.
We had a delightful time with the Lees at Gate Eleven; our wish for 2026 is this local distillery — also highly awarded globally — becomes a household name for cocktail enthusiasts and Chattanoogans.
"Locavore meets local pour," Bill smiled.
Funny thing, that muse. Creativity flows and swirls and comes and goes. (Chef Grimm's newsletter is rich with creative muses.)
Sometimes, the winter helps. Sometimes, not.
This Sunday, we're visiting a local farmer who we definitely define as a creative.
Why?
Perhaps more than any other farm in the US, he's creating food across the whole range: from food deserts to Michelin restaurants.
It's a story of raised beds and raised consciousness.
Have a sigh week, everyone.
Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in partnering with us? Email: david@foodasaverb.com
This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.
food as a verb thanks our sustaining partner:
food as a verb thanks our story sponsor:
Mapleleaf Realco
It's not dry January.
"It's sigh January," my wife said.
Ahhhh, the sigh. An auditory, verbal expression of an inner state. We seem to sigh an awful lot more in the winter than summer. Freezing again? (Sigh.) Two days of rain and fog? (Sigh.)
There are two different types of sighs.
The first? The relaxing sigh, the exhale that comes from sitting next to a warm fire, a bowl of hot soup, a little toddy nearby.
The second type of sigh? It's an exasperated sound, with tired feet, chapped hands, maybe a dash of passive aggressive in it.
The dishwasher broke, the tire's flat, the dog's sick. Charlie Brown missed the football again. That kind of sigh.
Sighing seems to help, like an instinctual or guttural response to life on both ends — warm soup vs. flat tire — of the spectrum.
Yesterday, she looked at the forecast: lows in the teens are coming.
"It's not Dry January. Not Sigh January," she said. "Cry January."
Here's some pick-me-up, anti-cry reading material from our good friend Chef Mallory Grimm.
If you haven't visited LUNCH in Sewanee, put it on your top 2026 list. It somehow matches the coziest with the most beautiful culinary expression: all meals and ingredients sourced from regional growers. Chef Grimm and her team serve meals as if the produce was grown just for the LUNCH menu. They seem to know just what to do.
The Michelin Guide folks enjoyed this immensely. When the new Guide to the American South was released, LUNCH was in it.
Also, Mallory's a writer. Her Late, Late Summer newsletter is one of my favorites to read.
Last week, she announced: a new book of recipes.
It's called EPHEMERA.
It's a cookbook and more.
"A guidebook, a journal, a starting point and is meant to be stained, written in, dog-eared and shared. The book includes recipes inspired by and based on the seasons, with encouragement to flex based on what you can forage, grow or get from local farmers," she writes.
It's available for purchase here.
And, a reminder: this afternoon, Main Street Farmers' Market opens, just like every Wednesday.
Letty Smith at Circle S Farm is selling brisket; Daniel Hernandez is selling arugula, sweet potatoes and brocolini, Belle's Chocolates is taking pre-orders on its Valentine's Day Heart Box, and about a thousand other things — lion's mane mushrooms, milk, sausage, Bird Fork Farm tinctures — will be offered.
Speaking of Bird Fork, this weekend, Alyssa Leon is hosting a herbal tincture class.
(Ahhh, this photo. Sighing. Warm weather. Fruit trees. Short sleeves.)
On March 5, Bill and Wanda Lee from Gate Eleven Distillery are inviting you for a special ceremony, distillery tour and absinthe — what it is, what it isn't — lesson and experience.
"The muse," Bill said.
We had a delightful time with the Lees at Gate Eleven; our wish for 2026 is this local distillery — also highly awarded globally — becomes a household name for cocktail enthusiasts and Chattanoogans.
"Locavore meets local pour," Bill smiled.
Funny thing, that muse. Creativity flows and swirls and comes and goes. (Chef Grimm's newsletter is rich with creative muses.)
Sometimes, the winter helps. Sometimes, not.
This Sunday, we're visiting a local farmer who we definitely define as a creative.
Why?
Perhaps more than any other farm in the US, he's creating food across the whole range: from food deserts to Michelin restaurants.
It's a story of raised beds and raised consciousness.
Have a sigh week, everyone.
Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in partnering with us? Email: david@foodasaverb.com
This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.
Food as a verb thanks our story sponsor:
Food as a Verb Thanks our sustaining partner:
Food as a verb thanks our story sponsor:
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