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For a dish, it begins at the farm. In the cool quiet of morning, I walk the rows and fields. A chance nibble at a pea, a carrot or a leaf begins the thought of what it might later be. Each bite, a note in a future song perhaps. In the mornings, the flavors of the farm are vivid, they sing. There is time to consider each flavor quietly without distractions. Here is where the building blocks of a dish begin to come together. Then its off quick to the restaurant with the harvest. Just picked ve...

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