I can’t recall exactly when I discovered an Edible magazine for the first time, but I do remember the emotion it stirred in me.

I’ve been a fan of local food since childhood, when my parents moved us to the country in New Mexico.  is decision was made after my parents proposed two options to their five girls: swimming pool in the backyard of our current home, or move to the country and have horses. The outcome of the vote is not hard to guess.

My parents bought three and a half acres and built their dream home (as well as a barn for the horses). In time we had a small, nearly self-sustaining operation in Corrales, a small hamlet in the north valley of Albuquerque near the Rio Grande. The horses were joined by a cow who gave us milk, and whose offspring filled our freezer with meat; chickens provided white, brown, and green eggs; a garden in the sandy soil produced vegetables and fruits.

Mom spent countless hours in her kitchen using everything our acreage provided. Making butter, canning vegetables, washing eggs, and cleaning—constant cleaning—was required with this operation. Though my sisters and I all participated, Mom and Dad did the lion’s share of the work while we girls rode horses and worked on our educations.

I loved how we lived. I took it for granted then, but I see now how fortunate I was to know the value of a life, to appreciate the land and the animals that gave us sustenance, to understand the labor required to feed us and those in our care.

I loved how we lived. I took it for granted then, but I see now how fortunate I was to know the value of a life, to appreciate the land and the animals that gave us sustenance, to understand the labor required to feed us and those in our care.

I left that life for college; then my career had me living in, and traveling to, big cities. At some point I started gravitating back to local food: I shopped at the farmers market, got to know the farmers and ranchers. I ate at farm-to-table restaurants, I evangelized the bene ts of eating “food” to anyone who would listen. I read and re-read every Michael Pollan book I could get my hands on. I started to ask myself, How can I contribute?

Somewhere in there was that  rst experience with an Edible magazine. The encounter tugged at me, though for a while I had too many other things on my plate to do anything about it. Then it happened. The decision to move to Bozeman came first, followed by the opportunity to become the publisher of Edible Bozeman. The emotion I felt my first time reading an Edible magazine is now replicated each day as I work toward our first issue—the one you’re reading now. The emotion is pure enjoyment mixed with fascination, excitement, and a sense of responsibility to something important. I hope to create a similar feeling in every reader of this magazine by filling each issue with vibrant stories of local food and drink in the incredible community I’m proud to call home: Bozeman, Montana.

Jackie Page
Publisher