Pizza Night Extra | Say It With Peas






The Voice of the People has been heard. Let them eat Pizza.


607 CSA | Workers Control the Means of Production

In the pit of La Scala, Puccini,
Conducted Boheme with zucchini,
“Believe it or not,
I did Turandot
With bananas, two leeks and my weenie.”

Joining a CSA does not make you a Communist. It helps farmers. More importantly, it burnishes your upstate foodie-hipster credentials. Three weeks of picking up your own mibuna and you’ll be painting your cabin Farrow & Ball Off Black, drinking half-wild cider from a wine glass and calling meat protein. Communists are welcome.


The 607 CSA is a collaboration between the twin pillars of Table on Ten’s vegetable underbelly – Star Route and Berry Brook Farms. Basically, instead of us all meandering round in our Subarus week in, week out, burning up Saudi oil, abetting terrorists and crucifiers in the name of vegetables for our respective tables … we commit to either a Summer Full or Summer Half share in the seasonal bounty of these two local farms. Once a week our waxed boxes will await us at one of six convenient locations. There’ll be all sorts of stuff poking out, most of which we’ll know what to do with. The bits we don’t will serve as springboards for our culinary imaginations and French tempered steel skillets. Then there’s pesto. One stop shopping and the Big Door Prize every week. It’s not Communism: but there’s enough of a whiff of Socialist Realist lady-biceps about it to make us feel momentarily less effete. And it really helps with what’s going on.

Furthermore. If you’re not exclusively herbivorous there are all sorts of modular add-ons available to supplement the basic weekly ration; from the likes of Bovina Valley, Stony Creek, Painted Goat, L’ouvriere, Stone & Thistle, Township Valley, Lucky Dog, Farmhand Flowers, Mauer’s Mountain, Greenane, Nectar Hills, Tay Tea, Kitchen Garden, Cowbella, Flaca Vaca, Treadlight, Big Ash. Meat, poultry, milk, cheese, yogurt, flowers, honey, herbs. Even candles. If you’ve got shelter, matches, cigarettes and tequila, you’re basically set.

Table on Ten is one of six locations you can swing by and grab your share. Pickup time is cannily scheduled between 6 and 9 pm on a Friday evening. Ring any bells? That’s also when we’re open, serving pizza. You can hit-and-run or cool your heels, have a bite to eat, glass of wine. See what we did with the same stuff that’s in your box. Other locations are strategically situated around Delaware County so as to undermine the ‘oh, but that’s miles from where I live’ defence.

Bloomville | Table on Ten  | FRIDAY | 6-10pm
Bovina | Brushland Eating  | FRIDAY | 6-10pm
Charlotteville | Star Route Farm | FRIDAY & SATURDAY | 1-5pm
Delhi | Delhi Farmer’s Market | WEDNESDAY | 9am-2pm
Hobart |  Flaca Vaca | SATURDAY | 10am-4pm
Oneonta b side ballroom | FRIDAY | 6-10

The deal? It’s vulgar to talk money in public. It’s good though.

Knotweed | Marguerite Walks | Eats Shoots & Leaves

‘I don’t see it so much as erotic. I see it more full of obscenity. I see fornication and asphyxiation and choking and fighting for survival and growing and rotting away. It is the harmony of overwhelming and collective murder. And we in comparison to that enormous articulation – we only sound and look like badly pronounced and half-finished sentences out of a stupid suburban novel. A cheap novel. We have to become humble in front of this overwhelming growth and overwhelming lack of order. We have to get acquainted to this idea that there is no real harmony as we have conceived it. But when I say this, I say this all full of admiration. It is not that I hate it, I love it. I love it very much. But I love it against my better judgment.’ – Werner Herzog (on Knotweed)


Japanese Knotweed, Curse o’ the Catskills. Vast thickets of bambooish vegetation that clog the banks of the Little Delaware like something from Apocalypse Now. We tried everything to tame it. First couple of years we waded into the obscenity with scythe and thick gloves, slicing, ripping, arms flailing, teeth gnashing. Days later a single stand was reduced to ribbons. Little did we know this only girded its loins. Stand by the garage at midnight. You can hear the groans of its roots fornicating. Poison? It throws back its hoary head like Falstaff calling for another flagon of sack. Burning is an afternoon at the spa with a coarse loofah, fiery exfoliation promoting yet more pornographic growth. Prayer is futile (God loves knotweed).

It grows by every means imaginable. Late-summer flowers are pendulous fronds of a billion seeds, each with its own wings, parachute and entrenching tool. The breeze caused by a passing bicycle sends them vortexing across the landscape in a fog, seeking innocent earth to pillage. Birds love ’em. Redwings criss-cross the firmament, a hundred of Noah’s doves, each stalk-in-beak. Deer, raccoon, skunk, bear, chicken, possum are unwitting foot-soldiers in its army. Sparky the Dog is a Centurion.

But not content to litter the skies with its corruption, knotweed also reproduces by stealth. Its shallow root system wriggles beneath the soil, a Medusa of rhizomes, bursting upwards every few inches in new clusters of moist phalluses, grunting toward the sun. Hours later each is a thickly-lubricated, purple-green Alien, complete with prehensile jaws, ooze, and an appetite for annihilation. Leave your child by a bush for 10 minutes and it will be subsumed, devoured and mulched into compost.

The only rational response is despair. But even weeping produces nutritious brine.

Or so we thought. Until Marguerite walked into Table on Ten with a Bobbit of severed phalluses, frozen, emasculated. She loves knotweed. Because she has mastered it.

If you can’t beat ’em, eat ’em.



Saturday May 7th, 12.30 at Table on Ten


Rain or shine, Table on Ten’s yard and Rails to Trails


Identify spring edibles and medicinals. Spring pot herbs, tonic plants, folk remedies, earthing and tree orienting. Plants covered include stinging nettles, wild ramps, wild garlic mustard, yellowdock, dandelion and burdock roots and (you guessed it) Japanese knotweed. Roots and shoots.

Later, while still in the field, experience Music of the Plants – melding art, science and technology to finely illuminate the hidden life of vegetation.

Followed by a wild food tasting, prepared by Marguerite: wild garlic mustard pesto, dandelion root french fries, dock chips.


To register: 607.437.1218 or

Starts at 12.30, ends around 4.  Arrive early as we walk at 12.30. Or get a sustaining lunch at Table on Ten before we go.

$20 per participant including walk, wild snacks, handouts, recipes