Pantry Staples

Raw, unfiltered honey from hives parked in the blueberry barrens. Bright and floral, the way the patch smells in June.

A friend taps a stand of maples up the cape and boils the sap over a wood fire. We bottle what he can spare.

Raked from drying bay water a few pans at a time. Thin flakes that crunch, then vanish.

Applewood-smoked chilies, garlic, and a little of our bay salt, steeped low and slow. A spoonful is enough.