Tonight’s dinner was an orgy of freshness, and we were able to pretend it was mostly free because the majority of the components came from the farm. I made a warm potato salad with the farm’s red blisses and a mustard, cider vinegar, shallot dressing. Along with that I chopped up one of the myriad farm watermelons I’ve got rolling around the fridge and tossed it with some basil chiffonade, olive oil and goat gouda. And the sandwiches were BLATs — bacon, farm lettuce, heirloom tomato and avocados. Boomer had valiantly trekked into Princeton for a growler of Triumph Brewery’s Amber Ale, and frankly, this was perhaps the most fresh, delicious, heavenly meal I’ve had in a long time. Every bite was impeccably scrumptious, and Pookie even remarked that she had an epiphany over the watermelon salad: this potato salad is one of her favorite foodstuffs on Earth, but tonight she found herself opting to end her meal on a bite of the watermelon and gouda. That, folks, is a ground-breaking realization. And I don’t blame her — that goat gouda was insane.