Staff Blogs

Colonial Village Meat Markets or “Colonial” as we call it in our house, has THE BEST chicken salad in the tri-state region. I would drive hours for what I now call my ‘chicken addiction’. Fortunate for me, I live only one mile from Colonial and grin from ear to ear during the entire two-minute drive. I don’t know what addictive chemical Rich and Kevin (owners of Colonial) put in the salad to make me crave it fortnight, but if I ate any more of it before Halloween, a costume wouldn’t have been necessary – I could have gone as a chicken. Although I started my daily Colonial visits for the sole purpose of purchasing the large container of chicken salad and making the deli attendant really pack it in, I began to realize, there is so much more to Colonial than my chicken addiction.

The second you step into the market, a comforting nostalgia wraps around you as you are carried back in time. I remember when my grandmother used to tell me stories of when she went grocery shopping in Brooklyn, NY. In the 1940’s, and still in certain parts of the country, grocery shopping included a multi-stop trek around a four-block radius where you visited, instead of shopped, and knew each vendor by their first name. Grandma would call from the kitchen, “I have to run down to see Kevin, my butcher, and get a cut of lamb for dinner tonight.” From cut to table, you knew the origin of your meat and could see the care and pride your butcher took in carving and wrapping your family’s supper.

My butchers, Kevin and Rich, provide the exact same service and standard for all of their products. I would consider myself a novice cook and I need all the support and guidance I can get, especially when it comes to meat selection, recipe and temperature. Colonial has a window at the back of the shop that is adorned with a large barrel of free pretzel rods for the kids. If you go to this window, Rich, Kevin or one of the butchers will provide all the assistance you need – except for actually going to your house and cooking your meal – to make you look like Julia Child.

 Thank you Kevin and Rich!

Rufus, the notorious stink bug, has returned! West Chester residents unite to exterminate the little buggers!

If you grew up like I did, a week at the Jersey Shore was the epitome of summer. I counted the days on the massive, office-turned-family calendar that hung in the hall above the muddy cleats and abandoned water bottles. I carefully marked X on each day until we reached the long, black line that stretched from Saturday to Saturday and read in bold, all-caps, "VACATION!!!".

My father, ex-military, had developed a timeline and packing system that would make a colonel blush with pride. To this day, I wish I had paid more attention to the exact manner in which he strategically placed each suitcase, beach chair, umbrella, and what seemed like hundreds of unnecessary items, into our brown with wood striping minivan, and always having room for one more item. Instead, I quickly grabbed my pillow, rushed down the stairs, vaulted into the van and attempted to stake my territory before my older sister or younger brother could climb in. I had about a 20% success rate.

Over the years, my best childhood memories involve our time at the shore. In fact, during the 51 non-shore weeks of the year, if I had a nightmare, a bad day at school, didn't make the varsity team or just needed a hug; my parents' comforting was always accompanied by a saying that has become my life mantra, "Just think of the beach..."

Instantly, I am taken back to waking up with my dad before anyone else even stirred, jumping on our bikes and heading off to our favorite bakery to bring back warm, gooey, sticky buns and an equal amount of crumb buns - my dad's favorite with a cup of coffee. The trick was to get there early enough because once all the goods were sold, that was it for the day. My family was always one of the early birds to the beach and the last to leave. I was an inexhaustible child who wanted to savor every sandy moment; diving through waves, building elaborate sand castles, and once we got tired of sand castles, the construction of sea turtles, dragons and mermaids, turkey sandwiches at lunch, paddle ball, sea shell scavenger hunt, and all the while, my mom chasing me around with sunscreen trying desperately to cover my rapidly pinking skin. I often ended the day on the beach by falling asleep under the umbrella where my mom used to place an extra-thin beach towel over me - the best sleep of my life.

My husband and I recently, and most-begrudgingly, returned from our family vacation in Avalon, also with an inexhaustible 7-year-old. While I still had sand between my toes, I realized that a continuum had occurred that both warmed my heart and made me incredible nostalgic for my childhood. I was now the mama - rinsing the bathing suits, hanging the wet beach towels, packing the cooler with turkey sandwiches, sitting under the umbrella and chasing everyone with sunscreen. I found such comfort and ease in this role because my parents passed on "the wisdom of the shore", passed on from their parents, which I would now like to share with you:

1. Never feed the sea gulls and keep your sandwich low when you eat. One summer, I had a lapse in judgement and used my sandwich-fill hand to point out a dolphin skimming the waves - the sandwich was gone before I could utter the word dolphin.

2. The beach bag should be armed with sunscreen (of course), bug spray, and baby powder. Baby powder is my mom's secret weapon. Whenever we needed to get wet sand off of any part of our bodies, we just sprinkled some baby powder and magically brushed off the sand.

3. Keep a wet wash cloth in a zip lock bag inside the cooler. You will be the hero when your little one screams that there is sunscreen in his or her eyes and you have a cool, wet wash cloth to take the sting away.

4. Outdoor showers are always better than indoor showers - just remember your towel before you venture outside.

These are just some of the lessons I learned while dowsed in sunscreen, huddling over a sandwich and digging my toes in the sand. I hope your summer is filled with wonderful "just think of the beach" memories to sustain you for the rest of the year.

I absolutely LOVE West Chester in the fall! I live very close to the Gordon Nature Preserve (http://www.gordonarea.org/) and one of my all-time favorite autumn activities is taking long walks along the trails with my dog, Lady, and my step-daughter. We indulge in hot chocolate as we discuss the new school year - friends, teachers, cafeteria gossip, and basically anything that bubbles up in that wonderfully complex mind of hers.

Now, with that being said, I am still hanging on to the smell of sunscreen, remnants of sand in my beach bag and my rapidly-fading tan lines with a death grip - I do not go gently into that good season. My stubbornness to transition the closets, rake the leaves, and throw salt and a scraper into the trunk of my car, leave me scrambling at the last minute. Halloween is usually the first marker that indicates my avoidance and the typical kitchen dialogue that ensues each year goes a little something like this...

Step-daughter (SD): Meghan, I want to be Annie this year for Halloween. The Annie at the end of the movie with the red dress. Can you also get me a curly red wig and the shoes she wears? I want to wear it for the Halloween party at school.

Me: When is the party at school?

SD: Tomorrow

Me: {diving at the laptop for the last-minute-parent's best friend - Amazon and next day shipping} Ummmm, let me see what I can do.

SD: We're also supposed to bring something for the party....let's make cupcakes!!!

Me: {cracking open a bottle of wine and searching for some form of chocolate in the house} Ugh! I forgot to buy candy for the trick-or-treaters when I was at Sam's Club last week.

Text message from friend: Are you going to the party on Saturday? The invite says costumes are mandatory. I just got back from the store and all that is left is witch and sexy maid.What are you wearing?

SD: Can we dress Lady up like Annie's dog? Maybe we can make her really dirty like dog at the beginning of the movie.

Hubby: Can you pick me up a costume for the party on Saturday? Anything will do...just don't get {insert long list of costume requirements}

Me: I miss summer

However, in attempts to turn over a new leaf, embrace the dropping temps and make the apple cider go down smoother, I am actually going to wave goodbye to the flickering images of summer and turn, head-first, donned in scarf and hat, into fall. To help you do the same, here is my helpful hint for the Halloween season and a list of all pumpkin patches in the Chester County area: