The Pines | Table on Ten | Four & Twenty Blackbirds

We’re having house guests. It’s very exciting. We’re busily plumping the cushions, vacuuming the rugs, scouring the scale off the u-bends and consigning those foot-crippling pieces of lego to the junk drawer by the sink. It’s going to be a squeeze; we’re putting The PINES in the girls’ bedroom with the My Little Pony sheets and Four & Twenty Blackbirds on the pull-out couch that Auntie Dorothy had her little accident on . If things get really crazy we can whack the fungus off the teepee.

THE PINES and TABLE ON TEN with FOUR & TWENTY BLACKBIRDS on dessert dulcimer

SATURDAY 15th JUNE  – 7 in the evening, till everybody’s full

12 course tasting menu, lots of it locally sourced, hand-foraged, grass-fed, spear-slain

$75 a head

Wines by Zev (Biodynamo) Rovine, by the bottle, glass or bedouin goat bladder

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If you’ve not had the opportunity to eat at The PINES on their home turf in Gowanus, Brooklyn, you’ve been missing a treat. All sorts of people – many with voices more eloquent than ours – have said so. But that’s beside the point; no need to mourn, because now you can try it in Bloomville. Yes, really. Better still, it’s the product of Brooklyn/Delaware County collaboration; Table on Ten’s network of local farms, dairies, cheesemakers, fishermen, bud caper wranglers, yarrow-pluckers, nettle-whisperers. And again, whilst many of our regulars are familiar with Four & Twenty Blackbirds’ amazing pies, a bespoke, limited-edition, Delaware County dessert is another thing altogether.

If you’d like to join us, please speak up soon. It’s going to be a sweet, tender and tasty hooligan evening. You can come in your muck boots or your vintage YSL muumuu (or both). We’re doing just one sitting, maybe 22 or 23 people. Menu details will be selectively leaked through disreputable sources over the next week or so. But all signs are good. Carver Farrell has been seen rustling through the undergrowth disguised as a duck; Inez Valk’s abandoned Subaru was spotted adjacent to a particularly vigorous stand of Japanese knotweed; dread shots rang out at Burnett Farms last weekend; Emily Elsen was heard moaning ‘wild rhubarb’ from an open window in Crown Heights; Angelo Romano turned up at the Met last week, conducting Das Rheingold with a garbanzo bean.

Please come. We might have a giant bouncy castle and a jell-o wrestling pit. We might not though.

Again, let us know as soon as possible at inez@tableonten.com