March in Pittsford: Maple Season, Farm Life, Culinary Adventures & Vermont Living

The pasture between seasons

March 2026

March in Vermont was full of chaos, adventures, and work. Checking the weather app is basically a joke. It was so wildly off and would change daily showing a week of rain, or a week of snow with temps from 2° to the mid 60’s. While I anticipated a fun snowy visit with my friend in from California, within 12-hours of her landing the snow was completely melted on the back porch leaving the bottle of prebatched espresso martinis I’d had hidden in the fluff for our breakfast lying naked on the damp wood. Then we came close to getting sunburns two days later while day drinking gin and tonics on March 9th when the temps hit the mid 70s. 

I knew Spring was quickly approaching so I drove out to a crosscountry ski area I’d heard about from a couple of friends called Blueberry Hill, where for a very reasonable amount you can rent everything you need, and/or you can make a donation to use one of their many trails. It’s been years since I last skied, but I knew I’d kick myself if I never made it out this season. I’m so glad that I did. I biffed it a few times, it was a much more challenging trail than the "Beginner" signs indicated, it took much longer to complete than expected, but it was absolutely beautiful. There is nothing like the stillness in crosscountry skiing. It’s exhilarating and calming at the same time. Completely meditative. It was a beautiful day, I only had on a light hoodie and lined leggings and was perfectly warm. It was probably the last good day on the trail as the temps crept up and the sun shone through the forest. 

With the warmer weather comes tapping season. I believe the rule is that in order for the sap to flow, the days have to be above 40, and it needs to be below freezing at night. I may have forgotten how labor intensive the process is once the trees are tapped. Some days it’s a slow drop every few seconds, to a solid icicle, to filling a bucket in a day, and when you have 6 buckets to deal with, things can quickly get out of control, or sap wasted. In my case, both. What I can say is that I did it to myself. Next year, perhaps I’ll only have 4 buckets, or I’ll have a sugar shack sauna where I crank out enough syrup to last me more than a few weeks. On March 9, I gave my friend Mary the honor of tapping the first tree, and by the time she left 4 days later, I was able to give her almost 2 ounces of syrup to take home. With this ridiculous war impacting fuel prices, I anticipate the cost of syrup increasing as well, because the reducers need to be running 24 hours a day during the entire season. 

And at home, there was a different kind of battle going on. The hormones kicked in on the boy ducks, and it quickly got out of control. We lost one to bullying, and had to separate 2 of the drakes from the rest of the group. We had them all in the greenhouse during the harsh winter, so moved the 2 mischief makers to their old coop about a hundred feet away. That area has always been enclosed with an electric fence, but we never hooked up the electricity, they just took our word for it. But then one of them discovered he could fight his way through one of the squares and every morning I would wake up to find that he’d be circling the greenhouse, trying to get back in. I named him Romeo. We ended up successfully rehoming them with a wonderful lady in the next town over with a flock of her own on a lovely property with a pond. Meanwhile, along my driveway the snow melt had created a tiny natural pond that the ducks had the most fun in. They would run to it every morning, and then it would take me upwards of 45 minutes to get them back in at night. Leaning giant antique toboggans alongside the walls to create a funnel ended up being the trick. 

The lady ducks started regularly laying eggs, and it wasn’t long until we had enough to start selling them at the farmers market ($24/dozen), making fresh batches of pasta, and in an attempt to recoup some of the unexpected costs associated with a small gang of ducks, I started carefully cutting the tops off of the eggs, cleaning them, and refilling them with soy wax scented with lilacs and a wick for candles. These along with the embroidered journals that I would sew during slow spells at the market have diversified my offerings from just the bone broth and the marshmallows. 

When Mary came to visit, she brought me 40 pounds of Meyer Lemons, that I immediately put to use in cocktails, and then in the following days processed into zest, juice that I freeze dried, seeds that I attempted to sprout, and the pith with any remaining rind went into distilled vinegar to clean with. Nothing wasted. 

I’m not going to lie, I’m missing the fresh produce at the Bay Area farmers markets and on facebook marketplace. It seems like it's been months where the primary offerings here are potatoes, onions, carrots, and rutabagas. Alas, the grocery stores are still filled with vegetables that are in-season somewhere on the planet, and I was able to cater a 5-course meal for a gentleman's 60th birthday up at a vacation home in Killington. I made an impressive cheese and charcuterie platter, parmesan and calabrian chili infused brodo with mini spinach and ricotta filled tortellini, rack of lamb with a mint tzatziki, Filet mignon over preserved lemon babaganoush with grilled romain and crispy chickpeas and duck fat fried potatoes coated in zatar. I grilled the eggplant and the romain over maple wood, then attempted to reduce the maple sap over the same fire, but it ended up raining so much that for every drip that evaporated, two drops would fall from the sky. For dessert I brought back a dish that I perfected in the late 90s at the Wine Spectator Greystone Restaurant in Napa Valley. Chocolate Pate. I used the duck eggs, which gave it an extra richness, garnished it with toasted vanilla marshmallow and Biscoff dust. They requested a second dessert, so I served them the yogurt mousse with maple sugar, and a warm apple cider donut. It felt good to flex those muscles again, and the group was very happy. 

I only had just over 4 days to give Mary the ultimate Vermont experience, and two of the days were a Monday and a Tuesday, which if you know Vermont (or perhaps most tourist destinations), almost everything is closed. On the way to pick her up from the airport I got us grinders from the infamous Gill’s in Rutland. I still don’t know why they call them that, but this part of the world is very specific about what they call their sandwiches. Our first full day we went to King Arthur, her Mecca, then stopped in Woodstock for crullers, cookies, and maple lattes at Farmer and the Bell that I can’t stop thinking about, cocktails at my favorite bar Au Comptoir where we drank Champagne and ate caviar before moving on to their mixed drinks that always impress. The Sweater Weather may be one of the best cocktails I’ve ever had. Then we finished with dinner at the Woodstock Inn, and a game of chess in the library. She taught me how to play, then beat me. 

We walked around Middlebury, starting with morning buns at Haymaker (where Matthew McConaughey and his daughter visited two days later) watching giant sheets of ice with the trees still in them float downstream while we unraveled the pastries and dipped them into our lattes, went thrifting and art supply shopping, watched a pair of bald eagles that grabbed our attention until they flew off, and then stopped for quesadillas and beer on the river. Her last full day was absolutely packed because everything was open. Creemees and cider donuts at Cold Hollow, tiny cups of ice cream at the Ben and Jerry’s factory, German food and beer at VonTrapp bierhall and trying to lure the Highland cows into my truck, a private tour and tasting at Bar Hill distillery, and a concert and dinner at the Tillerman. 

The next day I had to drive her back to Burlington. The visits are never long enough, but I’m so grateful she took time out of her insanely busy schedule to come see me, and experience everything I’ve accomplished in the last year, and everything I’ve been striving towards for the last decade. I wound down from the visit in Burlington while her plane was delayed, secretly hoping she’d have to stay another day. I stopped by the most bizarre restaurant for the most delicious sandwich at Four Corners of the Earth and did some thrifting. 

Monte was in Tunisia for the holidays for a couple of weeks, and I took full advantage of the solitude. It was the first time that I gave myself permission to relax and just enjoy the space that I’d created instead of running non-stop. The fact that I had a pretty bad cold was probably the universe’s way of forcing me to stay in bed and binge Bridgerton and watch the weather change from the comfort of my own room. Once I was better I got to stand in as backup backup at the trivia nights in Brandon with my friend Sam. It was such an innocent small town weekly gathering that I really started to look forward to it, and who knows, maybe I’ll only be the first string backup next year? I caught my first concert at Higher Ground with Andrea VonKampen after I caught a plea from her on TikTok that they were going to cancel her show if she didn’t get more bookings. Probably one of the better 4am purchases I’ve made. I took my friend Carrie from Morningside to Backroom for her birthday dinner, and had another wonderful experience. I got an energy healing from an incredibly talented local musician and reiki practitioner. I hosted a small group of friends in an effort to narrow down a wine pairing for the dinner I was catering, and loved the feeling of hosting and introducing strangers to each other over a good meal and great wine. St Patrick’s Day was spent at Inn at Long Trail listening to Irish Music and sharing the sacred beverage experience that is the Irish Car Bomb with newbies, and god’s antidepressant, Irish coffees. I was able to do Pinterest crafts including a framed hanging candle backdrop and lining the meditation/reading nook with sheer drapes and curtain lights, and repotted the indoor tropical plants, in an effort to propagate more to replace all of the ones that died in the commercial building from freezing temperatures. I got fixated on making Maple Dalgona iced lattes, and salted maple cold foam, and had them every day for almost a week.  

When Monte flew back into Boston I picked him up at the airport and we spent the day reconnecting. 90-minute chair massages, shopping, tea at the Boston Public Library, soup dumplings and Peking Duck in Chinatown. We ended the day at a speakeasy concert at Sister Wicked, an amazing thrift shop in Brandon run by the most beautiful woman with long silver hair that is a magnet for cool people. It was nice to have the bed to myself for a while, but it’s better with him in it. 

On March 17th, I went to the town office to check in on my permit progress, and get a copy of the deed to my house. There was such an open ended amount of time that they had to get back to me. I wasn't expecting any news, but I was on edge. This has been such an incredibly stressful process. I hate being in my home, or walking the property and knowing there are people that aren’t supporting me right next door. This is such a magical space that I don’t want it tainted with bad energy. Ann, the town manager that has been so wonderful and patient, saw me and said she had something for me. I couldn’t tell based on her voice whether she had good news or bad. She handed me the paperwork, and told me the board unanimously voted in favor of me. I was so relieved and grateful I almost started crying. This did mean that the neighbors had up to 30 days to contest their decision, which would lead to more time, more legal fees, and more stress. The earliest that I could start advertising wouldn’t be until April 17th, if everything went uncontested, meaning I couldn’t even schedule anything until I knew for sure I would be able to move forward, and I am already a year behind in lost potential income. 

The green grass is starting to reappear, and then on March 24th was again covered by a thin blanket of snow. It’s time to unplug and store the snow melting mats, but not time to put away the snow boots and big jackets. This year is already going by so fast, and there never seems to be enough time. I write these not only so that you can follow my journey, but so that I can capture these moments in time, anticipate the unexpected, learn from mistakes, and appreciate how far I’ve come when at times it feels like I’m trapped in place from things beyond my control. 

Maple Dalgona Latte

Maple Dalgona Latte

2T Instant Coffee Powder

2T Hot Water

2T Maple Syrup

Pinch of Sea Salt

1C Milk of Choice

1T Maple Syrup

Ice

Flaky Salt

Whisk the instant coffee powder, hot water, and maple syrup until firm peaks form. I’ve found the easiest and best way to do this is with a tall widemouth glass jar, and using a stick blender with a whisk attachment like this one. You can do it by hand with a whisk and a bowl, or with one of those milk frothers, but it takes so much longer. 

Shake the milk of choice (when I don’t have milk available I make my own cashew milk with my Nova using 1c cashews, 4 dates, 4c water, and a pinch of salt) with 1T maple syrup, and pour over ice. Gently spoon the whipped dalgona coffee on top, and swirl together with a straw. 

* If you read the directions on the instant coffee mix, this could technically be 3-6 servings of coffee, so consume with care.