Nat has been making his ciders since 2004, and started selling them commercially in 2011. His delicious and fragrant ciders have been a big hit all over Portland, and now have been making waves up and down the West Coast. He uses whole apples and other select fruits from local growers in the area. Reverend Nat’s ciders come in a variety of flavors, including his specialty seasonal varieties.
You can always find Reverend Nat’s at the Sunday Market in Montavilla, where Gemma Schmit will great you with a friendly face and tell you everything about the various ciders that are currently available. If you miss them at the Market, you can visit the Cidery & Public Taproom in NE Portland Thursday-Saturday from 5-10 pm.
It’s a weekend morning and our friends are arriving soon. Judith’s in the garden, collecting greens, peas, and beans. I’m in the kitchen, hard-boiling eggs from Deck Family Farm while the coffee steeps. A bundle of Scratch Meats maple sausage awaits the iron skillet. Fingerling potatoes from Rossi Farms are mixed into a chilled salad with dill and thyme.
This time of year, meals create themselves with what’s available. What’s ripe in the yard? What’s at the Market this week? Envisioning summer plans around food is as delicious as it is enjoyable and ever changing. One of our favorite parts of the Market is its array of offerings; week-to-week the Market is a different place. Stall tables change color as the calendar pages flip—berries and radishes fade out as peaches and tomatoes ripen up.
Our late brunch in mind, we walk the gravel aisles of the Market and are hooked when Jeff of Scratch Meats steps up and offers us a sample of his handmade, locally-sourced sausage. From there the meal comes into focus easily and we amble over for chicken eggs from the always-friendly folks at Deck (you have to get eggs fast at the Market, we’ve noticed, before vendors sell out). Rossi’s potatoes are some of the best we’ve tried, so we grab a small bag of gold and purple fingerlings and figure it’s time to get to cooking.
Back home the table is set—a jar of raspberry jam we made the previous weekend sits next to a bud vase of garden roses, ready to accompany the bread in the oven whose smell is filling the house. The meal will be a mix of foods that we and others that we’ve come to know have grown nearby. If, as Frances Moore Lappé writes, “every aspect of our lives is, in a sense, a vote for the kind of world we want to live in,” then we’re casting our ballot accordingly.
The doorbell rings and summer rushes in. This is hard to beat.