Why a cidery? Why now?

Back when I was a journalist in New York I had the privilege of writing profiles of some of the most lauded chefs and cookbook authors in America. People like Julia Child, Marcella Hazan, James Beard, Jacques Pépin and others who were gracious enough to host me in their homes and most often cooked for me. Julia made a lunch omelet. Marcella, her famous Bolognese sauce with pasta, James… well, he had an assistant cook and I can’t remember what is was.

Jacques’ lunch was memorable in every sense. At the time I did not know how it would ultimately change my life.

When we first arrived at his home in New Haven, CT he took us on a tour. He showed us his garden filled with fresh lettuces and greens, plus much more. He took us to his garden shed where he demonstrated how he had converted an old, curvy 1950s refrigerator into a cold smoker. Little did we know he was orchestrating a storybut lunch before he took us inside to the kitchen counter where we watched as he began to prepare.

Jacques’ hands started chopping with a graceful ferocity that was mesmerizing, turning garden fresh greens into a simple salad dressed with a simple vinaigrette. Then he turned his back for a moment and produced a lovely rainbow trout he smoked for us earlier and started arranging the salad and fish on plates.

Not doubt he not only smoked the trout, but caught it himself, too. But I failed to ask that question, which is perhaps why I was not so great at journalism.

Before presenting the food he said, “let go out front” and of course we did. Half way buried into the hill that led to his front door was a windowless brink structure that might have been an outoor privvy had it not been in the front of the house. There he unlock the door, flipped the switch to reveal an interior lined with what appeared to be champagne bottles. Oh boy, I though, as he pulled one bottle from a shelve with his right hand and another from the far wall with his left.

Back inside Jacques uncorked the bottle with a pleasant pop, poured and toasted us before serving lunch. The beverage sure looked like champagne, crystal clear and bubbly. The aroma did not seem like champagne, but I could not quite place the scent. Then we tasted together. This was definitely not champagne. It was revelatory. I had never tasted anything like it until that juncture in my life. It was sparkling cider. And you guessed it. Jacques made it himself.

The story resulting from that adventure ran in newspapers throughout the US and in a few places abroad. It was the reason the Chicago Tribune invited me to visit and offered me a job as a food editor and restaurant critic. I soon move from New York to Chicago. Shortly after that I discovered Southwest Michigan and the fabulous produce grown here, including a mind boggling 200+ varieties of apples grown here.

It was not long before we bought the house we have llived in for more than 40 years. The house where I started a decades long quest to reproduce the experience of the lunch and especially the cider, that Jacques prepared for us in 1981.

That quest continues to this day. Our Debutant cider is made from Jacques’ recipe annually. The trout we smoke Fridays at the tasting patio is also inspired by Pépin. And no, while good our cider is not as memorable as what I tasted with chef that day long ago. But we’ll keep working on it.

I always say to anyone who will listen that it is never too early, nor too late to be who you authentically are. In my case, it toook 67 years for me to acknowledge to myself that I m transgender.

Nor is it ever too early or too late to do what you were put on this earth to do. To be honest, I am not a great cider maker. Mother nature does all the work for me. I just try to stay out of her way. But being a cider maker does afford me the privilege of meeting people, hundreds of people like you every year. That is why I was put on earth. I can only hope that I might have as much impact on one of those I meet as Jacques Pépin had on me.

That’s why Mary and I started Carriage House. That’s why we did it now when we probably should be retired.

Jacques will be 90 this December. He still runs a foundation that promotes culinary education and skills training, particularly for individuals with barriers to employment. Carriage House and Houndstooth are partnering to present a dinner to raise funds for the foundation by celebrating the rich agricultural traditions of our community and Jacques enduring culinary vision on October 19. The dinner is sold out but let us know if you want to participate in this movement.