Now is the time of year when those of us who grew up in the Berkshires begin to reminisce about the winters of our childhoods: snow halfway up the front door; building snow forts in the gigantic piles at the end of the driveway; and the year it snowed 20 inches on May 9! More and more, it seems that those days are gone, and while many of us appreciate the milder winters, they are nothing to celebrate in the larger scheme of things. No one knows that better than our farmers. If you read one thing in this issue, I encourage you to dive into Elisa Bildner’s story on how climate change is impacting our local farmers. It’s, well, complicated.

Farming has never been easy, but it’s now exponentially more difficult given severe and unpredictable weather patterns. Elisa’s story gave me a better understanding and appreciation of how farmers are navigating our warming world. I hope it does the same for you.

I’ve now been at the helm of Edible Berkshires for nearly two years and I frequently reflect on what I like best about being its publisher. Hands down, the most rewarding element of creating this magazine for you four times a year is the people I’ve met, and the community of writers, photographers, illustrators, designers, and advertising partners that helps bring these pages to life. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that one fascinating person will almost always introduce you to another one.

Faithful contributor Lee Buttala (introduced to me by my pal, DeeDee), put me in touch with rock star illustrator Abby Lanoue (check out her work on page 20). My friend, Phyllis Webb, president of the Berkshire Co-op board, invited me to dinner with Leah Holzel, whose story, “The Regenerative Power of Smell Training,” is a direct result of a fascinating dinner party conversation. I met Elisa after I did a story on her son, Rafi Bilder, of Hilltown Hot Pies fame, in our very first issue. I could go on and on. Suffice to say that the best “job” in the world is one where you get to connect with and learn from people who share your values while bringing their own unique perspectives to the work they do. Like me, they believe that print—particularly hyper-local print—remains a very powerful medium for showcasing creative work and for building community. We don’t make them rich, but I hope we make them proud!

As you flip through these pages, you may detect a theme: heat! For me, the pozole from Casita packs just enough of it for my somewhat chili-averse palate (after we did the photoshoot, three of us devoured it!); the smokey mezcal cocktail from Apple Tree Inn is perfect for slow-sipping in front of the fire; and the gingersnap cookies will take as much, or as little, chipotle as you desire. Katy Spears, who does typically love to bring on the heat, restrained herself in this issue with her maple miso glazed duck breast, and the result is pure heaven.

One of the great benefits of being a magazine publisher and a writer is the opportunity to give myself great assignments. I have loved BOLA granola forever, and now that I know the people behind it—Michele Miller and her son, Riley Murkett—I love it even more. The brand embodies so much of what I value: keeping things simple; single-minded focus on quality; and the conviction that small is beautiful.

Now, back to extreme weather just for a minute. You may notice in this issue what looks like an ad for Asheville, North Carolina. That’s because Edible Berkshires is part of a larger network of magazines, including Edible Asheville. After Helene devastated the city, our community reached out to our fellow publisher in Asheville to ask what we might do to help. The result: A group of Edible publishers across the country offered to promote the city’s “Love Asheville from Afar” campaign (see page 33). I encourage you to train your phone camera on the QR code and help support local small businesses in Asheville, and to donate to recovery efforts. This campaign makes me proud to be part of the larger Edible community!

Happy winter to all! Here’s hoping for snow forts, sledding, snowshoeing, and skiing. But no May snowstorms, please.

Donna