Since Nepal is in the news due to the devastating earthquake, I want you local readers to know that the greatest find of the year is a Nepali take-out food counter tucked away inside a gas station (Riverbend Market) on Bridge St. in Morrisville, just across from the Bijou. I think the sign on the outside of the yellow building says Himalayan Nepali Cuisine.
For the non-local readers, you may like to know that Morrisville is the town ten miles north of Stowe. It’s where we buy plumbing fittings and maple tubing. It’s where we took the blower motor for repairs in March (Farrell’s Electric) and where we got a piece of stainless steel cut for the filter press (Leo’s Welding).
A hot meal in the sugarhouse on boiling days sustains and buoys the crew. By the end of the ten-day boiling marathon the freezer was depleted of chili, mac and cheese, and baked beans, so, being in Morrisville on an errand, I stopped by the yellow gas station for Nepali take-out. The crew relished it (“These are whole cardamom pods,” said Becca. “He’s not skimping.”). I forgot to bring home the spicy sauce, but it didn’t matter, since the crew was taught by Chief of Operations to douse every plate of food with hot syrup.
I wonder, How is the chef handling the news from Nepal? As he bustled to fill my order for chicken and vegetable curries, he told me a few bits of his story, but not the bit about why he is living in Morrisville. I learned that he was educated in British-built schools in northern India, that he still owns a farm near Kathmandu, and that he is unhappy with the current, inept government.
When sugaring work wears me down, I sometimes draw my attention to the earth beneath me, holding me up, supporting me. This weekend I am aware of taking for granted the constancy of the physical terrain, as I take for granted so much else – hands and wrists that work, abundant water, access to food.