Journal
Farm to Fork at West Willow Farm: Our First Fall Dinner in the Garden
Last year, not long after we finished building the pergola in the garden, I started dreaming about hosting a Farm to Fork dinner underneath it.
But between other events, five kids, and not having someone to really spearhead it with me, it just didn't happen.
Then May happened—and we went to the Chelsea Flower Show in London.
There is inspiration absolutely everywhere at Chelsea, but one display in particular stopped us in our tracks. It was a stunning harvest-themed abundance table created by the heirloom seed company She Grows Veg in collaboration with floral designer Hazel Gardiner Design.
It was overwhelmingly beautiful, in the very best way.
Vegetables weren't simply food. They were part of the display. Flowers, herbs and produce were layered together in this wild, abundant celebration of everything that had been grown.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
That inspiration stayed with us through the growing season. As I started harvesting my garlic and red peppers and watched the pumpkins begin to mature, it didn't take long for my friend Holly of Three White Barns and me to talk each other into actually doing it.
I love the creative process of hosting. I love thinking through a menu and figuring out how everything will come together.
And Holly's ability to decorate and create that full, layered look is second to none.
We just needed to get started.
Creating Our Own Farm to Fork Table
Holly, Ali and I divided responsibilities pretty naturally. I took on the food, while Holly spearheaded the display.
A few days before the dinner, we started working through how to create the height and abundance we'd loved so much at Chelsea while working within the constraints of my own garden.
Eventually we landed on one long table running down the middle of the pergola, with a display running the entire length of it.
Then we looked up.
The chandelier hanging over the table gave us exactly the height we needed. So naturally, we decided we should hang vegetables from it.
We spent most of Wednesday in the garden figuring it all out.
At one point I was standing on top of the table while Holly stood below, handing me twine and vegetables and using her eye to tell me what needed to move, what needed more height, and whether everything felt balanced.
Every so often one of us would ask:
"Is this fun?"
"Are you having fun?"
Thankfully, we're good enough friends to know that we both genuinely love this particular type of crazy.
By Wednesday evening we finally had our direction—which was a relief, because I knew I'd be spending most of Thursday in the kitchen.
Holly had an incredible pumpkin harvest of her own, which really helped pull everything together. We layered pumpkins and squash with flowers, herbs, vegetables and things gathered straight from the garden.
It was abundant. A little wild. And exactly what we had hoped it would be.
Building a Menu Around Our Local Harvest
I didn't want the idea of Farm to Fork to mean that every single thing had to come from our own property.
I wanted the dinner to celebrate our local harvest—things we'd grown ourselves alongside beautiful food being produced by other farms around us.
We've worked with Lazy J Meats in Payson to cut and wrap our pork and had gotten to know Braden, the face behind their Instagram. I knew pretty quickly that I wanted their beef to be the centerpiece of the dinner.
Bonus points: their cattle range within about a mile of our farm.
Our butternut squash came from Gordo's Family Fun Farm in Lake Shore. They're such a fun family working hard to share what they grow, and we've frequented their farm stand over the years. They donated some beautiful butternut and spaghetti squash for the dinner.
The spaghetti squash didn't ultimately make the menu.
But the butternut absolutely stole the show.
Then there was Riley's U-Pick.
A U-pick vegetable farm is pretty unique, and I've gone there for big boxes of produce for canning projects before. The week before our dinner, they started posting their gorgeous green beans.
I saw them and immediately knew what our green vegetable was going to be.
And Walls Bros Orchards, with their cute farm store on Main Street in Spanish Fork and orchards just down the road from us, made the apple cider to finish the evening an easy decision.
From West Willow came our garlic, herbs and eggs, along with other little pieces of the garden that worked their way onto the table.
A lot of the menu was intentionally simple. When the ingredients are this good, I don't think they need much fussing.
And when you're feeding about 35 people out of your home kitchen, not much fussing is also a fairly sound logistical strategy.
Dinner Day
Thursday gave us the most beautiful weather.
Most importantly: not a stitch of wind.
Anyone who has tried to host an outdoor event out here knows that the wind can ruin things faster than just about anything else.
It was warm—really warm—but calm. I was so thankful.
Earlier in the day I parboiled the potatoes, blanched the green beans and rubbed the tri-tip. Holly arrived in the afternoon to finish the tables, and it was so fun to essentially set her loose in the garden.
We gathered flowers and made bouquets for the tables, and then I left her to do what she does so well.
I would have loved to stay out there with her.
But I needed to get back into the kitchen.
And then came the first major moment of panic.
The Traeger wouldn't turn on.
I reset the GFCI.
Nothing.
Checked the breaker.
Nothing.
Eventually Tyce came to look at it.
He reset the GFCI—which, for the record, I swear I had already done—and suddenly it clicked on.
Phew.
Crisis averted. The tri-tip was smoking.
From there, amazingly, things mostly went according to plan.
Until everyone started arriving.
I went to turn on the cafe lights—which were fairly crucial to the whole vibe of this evening—and...
Nothing.
They had worked the night before. What was happening?!
I started checking cords everywhere, getting nice and sweaty in the process, until I finally found it:
One simple extension cord had come unplugged.
That was it.
Plug it back in and suddenly there were lights.
Of course, the extra time spent crawling around looking for the problem meant getting the last of the food out to the garden felt slightly crazy. The final thing to make it out was the drinks—pitchers of water and that yummy local apple cider.
But only a few minutes after 6:30, we were ready.
And then we actually got to enjoy it.
A Compliment I Won't Forget
There was one little moment in the middle of all that craziness that I don't think I'll forget.
We were slicing tri-tip and trying to get dinner out when my 16-year-old daughter asked me:
"Are you having fun? Do you want to do this again?"
What a thing to ask at that particular moment. Ha!
I told her that if we did it again, maybe I'd turn the food over to a chef—or at least have someone really help me with that part.
And she said:
"But Mom, you really are good at the food."
It made my night.
Not because dinner needed to be perfect, but because it meant something to have my daughter see that part of me and appreciate it.
I wish I had prepared some more concrete opening thoughts to share with everyone that evening.
But once dinner got underway, the sunlight started to fade and those gorgeous harvest colors began to pop underneath the cafe lights.
And it really was as incredible as I could have hoped.
I didn't get to sit and visit with everyone as much as I would have liked, but I loved meeting some new people and getting to know others a little better.
Mostly, I was just grateful to be able to cook some beautiful, simple food and share it with them.
A Few Things I'd Do Differently
Of course, hosting our first dinner for 35 also taught me a few things—mostly that I apparently think people can eat considerably more food than they actually can.
We made about 20 pounds of tri-tip, and with this menu I'd make closer to 15 next time. Four and a half butternut squash was way too much; two to two and a half would have been plenty. Same story with the green beans.
I quadrupled the chimichurri when three batches would have been plenty.
The 10 pounds of potatoes, though?
Just right.
And I wouldn't change a thing about the maple crème brûlée.
More than one guest told me it was the best crème brûlée they'd ever had, and several commented on how creamy it was. The custard had this incredible deep golden color from our fresh egg yolks, and it was one of my favorite things we served.
Planning Your Own Farm to Fork Dinner?
I've gathered all of the recipes from our evening into a free Farm to Fork Dinner Guide, along with what we actually made for 35 people, what I'd make next time, make-ahead notes, and some of the little things I learned about getting this much food onto the table at once.
Keeping the Flame Burning
I'm in a phase of life right now where West Willow Farm—and the garden—don't always get as much attention as I'd like to give them.
My kids are growing, and my time with them is precious. They are absolutely my priority right now.
We have big plans for this space, but an evening like this is just the kind of thing that keeps that flame burning a little longer.
Because I love beautiful food.
I love gathering people.
I love sharing with others.
And I love creating an atmosphere that feels, even if only for an evening, like a little bit of respite from the world.
I'm not completely sure how often we'll be able to do events like this. We were all exhausted the next day. Ha!
But it was just enough for me to know there will still be events.
Every event from here on out just has a lot to live up to after this night.