I never made out to be a foodie. When I took the position of editor for Edible Bozeman, I didn’t claim to be a food writer, nor did I feign food snobbery. I’m pretty sure I told Jackie, the publisher of this magazine, that I didn’t care about a “career.” Instead, I was interested in the process. I was interested in the stories—the whys and the whats and the whos of the local food scene. I cared about the people.
It seems almost silly to explain this, but so often the things most apparent are also the most opaque. Food doesn’t make itself. Someone has to cut the squash, raise the lamb, peel the carrots, and collect the honey in order for any of the recipes in this issue to come to fruition. Someone has to grow the plants and harvest the produce. And someone has to think through how a hodgepodge of ingredients will come together to create something delicious. People make food. And as such, food is intimately shaped by the unique lives we all live.
As much as food depends on people, so too people depend on food. I continue to feel moved when I think of Sierra Brask’s health journey before she opened Th e Well Juicery, as described in our Summer 2022 issue available online. I think of Indra Fanuzzi seeking food to feed her son despite his severe allergies, as told in this edition on page 30. I think of my own relationship with food: overcoming a picky palate in childhood; struggling to eat breakfasts and lunches in college; forcing myself to eat well during the morning- sickness days of pregnancy; learning how to offer nutritious, whole foods to my daughter— my budding little eater.
We believe understanding where our meals come from reveals our own humanness, and that is food for the soul.
Food is a primal need, and good food is critically linked to good health. I rejoice when I say the days of ultra-processed prepared freezer meals are so far gone from my life that I can almost forget how awful they taste. That memory is overwhelmed by the knowledge of what a Dixon melon smells like, what a ripe tomato feels like, and how a free-range chicken tastes. (Maybe in a way I have become a food snob after all—I certainly enjoy really good food.) I consider myself a million times blessed that I have access to great food.
Edible Bozeman celebrates our community’s vibrant food culture. What does that mean? It means we care about connecting people with their food, and we also care about connecting people with people. I want to create something that is meaningful to the people I care about: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the people who call this state home, and the people who travel here to visit.
We forge connections through storytelling and we take great care to get it right. We tell honest experiences and showcase authentic moments. We believe understanding where our meals come from reveals our own humanness, and that is food for the soul.
Jessianne Castle
Editor
