4 | FALL 2026 EDIBLE CENTRAL OREGON Some projects come together so smoothly you thank your lucky stars—while simultaneously worrying, “What’s the catch?” Others require gymnastic flexibility, logistical maneuvering, and a big dose of trust. This issue brought a bit more of the latter, not surprising as this is only our second edition of Edible Central Oregon. But more than typical learning curves, bringing this issue to life underscored the importance of navigating real situations with real humans in real time. Fires erupt, loved ones fall ill, the summertime call of the wild is just too sweet. How we respond matters. I’m so proud that we decided to prioritize family and maintain our humanity while creating the magazine you hold in your hands. I hope you agree that this care shows cover to cover. The mission of Edible Central Oregon is to share stories of local food, drink, and farms to inspire deeper connection and investment in our food system; running underneath that core mission is a commitment to changing what “business as usual” means. These aren’t separate goals, but rather part of a holistic community of care. If this small-but-mighty publication can broaden readers’ understanding of and respect for those who put food on our tables while also being part of a movement to reshape work norms for the 21st century, I hope and believe that the world will be better for this. Something else has been on my mind: Can we enjoy the simple and luxurious gifts of our life, our enormous privilege, when so many are denied not only luxury but basic human rights? Can we hold two contradictory truths in our hearts and minds at the same time? As usual, Mary Oliver wrote something revelatory: We shake with joy, we shake with grief. What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body. (Untitled, from Evidence, 2009) Food and drink are among the most essential things we humans all share, but there is so much more. Thank you for being part of this Edible community in Central Oregon. Fall is a poignant time: abundance hinting at loss, the season when some things have to die so others can be born. I love the sense of urgency in the cooling air that whispers, “Do it now before it’s too late.” In this issue you’ll find recipes to warm you, stories that inspire a visit, and hopefully a sense of environmental stewardship, maybe even urgency. Stay human, —Rebekah Altman FOLLOW US! @ediblecentraloregon @ediblecentraloregon ediblecentraloregon.com From the Editor Photo by Jen Lee Photography
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