Feb 04

2016

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Farm Food: Chicken Pot Pie

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Making the table look pretty is almost as fun and satisfying for me as the cooking.

It’s hard to argue that there is any meal more quintessentially English than Sunday lunch at home. Many of our friends and family members make it a weekly practice – either going for lunch at a friends house or hosting their own. As much as Christopher and I enjoy these meals, we often feel that we need Sundays to be more focused on down time – finding ourselves in the garden, on a horse, or gorging ourselves at the buffet at Soho Farmhouse instead of hosting a house full of people. With Zach at school 6 days a week, it’s the only day we have him to ourselves and we all like to sleep late and go where the day naturally takes us.

That said, from time to time, I do get inspired to cook Sunday lunch. And when I do, I like to enjoy the results of my labour with friends and family just like the English do. ..

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Jan 29

2016

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I ♥ Your Style: Isabella Cawdor

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Isabella with her daughter, her husband, and the gamekeepers all in Cawdor tweed.

I first met Isabella Cawdor when she was a guest at my wedding. Her husband Colin was an old friend of Christopher’s and they flew over from Scotland to celebrate with us. I noticed Isabella because of her romantic, dark purple velvet dress with floral cutouts, and she had a fuchsia rose tucked behind her ear. She was the very first one out on the dance floor, twirled around by Christian Louboutin, and I thought “Who is that gorgeous girl?” We didn’t get to know each other properly until a year a half later when Christopher and I were invited, along with one year old Coco, to visit them at their shooting lodge in the highlands of Scotland. That’s when I was really taken with Isabella. Everything about her life – her house, her kids, her clothes, her posture – was beautiful, but done natural ease and warmth. These days, the Cawdors are perhaps best known for their supermodel daughter Jean Campbell – who stars in the current Louis Vuitton and Burberry ads – but it is Isabella’s down to earth, chic country style that has me reeling every time I see her. ..

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Jan 21

2016

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Life on the Farm: Winter Garden

F79A1023In January we give the garden a haircut. We cut back everything that has continued to be green until around Christmas time, we prune, we rake dead lives, and we pick out random rocks and twigs that have collected in the beds. It’s a very satisfying chore, in that the garden looks so organised and ordered when we are done, and it helps me get over the winter blues when there is very little alive apart from the Hellebore (which are much more noticeable when everything else has been tidied). This winter, I couldn’t believe how much was still alive or already blossoming in late December – we were mowing our lawn until just before Christmas! –  so I spent a morning with my camera documenting the late-in-the-year-garden-beauty for posterity. ..

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Jan 19

2016

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Mourning my Dad

I took some time out to mourn my dad, who died peacefully at home last week. I am trying not to feel too sorry for myself, as I know that I’m lucky he lived a full life, and that my children got to know him so well, but the truth is I am just terribly sad. He was simply awesome – both as a human being and as a dad – and had a huge role in influencing the person I am today. I’ll be blogging again by the end of the week, but in the meantime I wanted to share with you the obituary my sisters and I wrote about him.

Long time Palm Beach resident Stephen Cutter, 75, died peacefully at home in Floyd, Virginia on January 10th after a brave battle with cancer. Born in Boston, MA, on April 20, 1940 to Harry and Beatrice Cutter, he moved to Palm Beach with his parents at the age of six and lived there until he was 60. Stephen was a pioneer in residential real estate for 40 years, running his family’s firm Cutter Real Estate and serving as the president of the Palm Beach Board of Realtors. A gifted natural athlete, he enjoyed many outdoor sports, and even established windsurfing as a competitive sport at the Bath and Tennis Club in the 1980’s.

Stephen proudly served his country in the US Navy, including a stint aboard the USS Intrepid in the sixties. His time spent in military school and in the Navy inspired a meticulous nature that led to the most perfectly made beds, beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts and fastidiously organized closets one could imagine. He was also a devoted member of Rotary International, and served as the president of Palm Beach Rotary for many years.

In 1976, Stephen made an early investment in Mel Fisher’s legendary hunt for the capsized Spanish galleon Atocha, off the coast of Key West, Florida. When the wreck was eventually discovered in 1985, he became the beneficiary of all sorts of amazing treasure – 17th century gold coins, silver bars, emeralds and rubies.

Later in life, Stephen retired to Floyd, Virginia and would realize his lifelong dream of becoming a farmer. He raised organic sheep, tended a vineyard, took immaculate care of his land and made many meaningful friendships.

Most importantly, Stephen was a unique spirit, always courageously choosing his own path. He was fiercely independent, spiritually curious, and possessed an enthusiastic and often mischievous sense of fun, adventure and humor. He was a beloved and valued member of his community both in Palm Beach and in Floyd. He also had the most impressive head of hair many people have ever seen.

Stephen is survived by three adoring daughters, Kimberly Cutter, Amanda Brooks and Phoebe Cutter, two grandchildren Coco and Zachary Brooks, and also by his loving partner Rebecca West.

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Jan 08

2016

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On The Road: Harbour Island, Bahamas

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Happy New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful time, wherever you were. After Christmas we escaped at the first light of Boxing Day to make the long journey back to Harbour Island, which looks like it’s becoming a tradition for us. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a place that has more personal style than Harbour Island. Of course there is the obvious beauty of the immaculate pink sand beach, the perfectly clear turquoise ocean, the adorable pastel-painted cottages, and countless palm tress silhouetted against a spectacular sunrise and sunset day after day. But beyond that, the island just has an inherent sense of style emanating from everyone and everywhere. The locals have their hand-painted (and often cheeky) shop signs, their outrageous and meticulous costumes at Junkanoo (the local street parade that takes place on Boxing Day), and their over-the-top Christmas decorations. The hotels – especially the Dunmore and the Ocean View Club – keep getting chicer while adding onto their original charm and character. And the people who visit also share a love of this place that has all the style and beauty you could crave yet still embraces imperfection and everyday life.

The other thing I love about Harbour Island is that each member of my family – myself, my husband, tweenage Zach and teenage Coco – are all equally happy there. I live for my jetlag-fueled sunrise walks on the beach, Coco longs to be under the water with a snorkel looking for sharks, dolphins and manatee, Christopher has his routine of going to the local coffee house in the afternoon to sketch, and Zach is happiest when being pulled behind a boat at top speed on any kind of floatation device on offer. Zach has a close friend that is usually there when we are, but Coco has twice now arrived hoping to find a like-minded teenage girl and is now 2 for 2 in spontaneously meeting a wingman (wingwoman?) who is likely to become a lasting friend.

With all that said, Harbour Island is a major schlep to get to, especially from Europe. The absolute minimum travel for us is two planes, a boat and two taxis. We thought we were clever renting a minuscule charter plane to get ahead of the commercial flight that is often delayed, overbooked or cancelled, only to sit taxiing on the runway for three hours in a chlaustrophobic 4-seater. However, arriving at night, as we always do, to a warm welcome (in the form of a hug, a glass of wine, and a home cooked meal) from owners Ben and Charlie and all the regulars that have become our friends at the Ocean View Club and waking the next morning in my idea of paradise is worth every minute spent in transit.

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Dec 24

2015

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Merry Christmas

Wishing you all the very best for the holidays and the coming year. We are home in England this year, for the first time in three years. The kids are very happy to not be traveling for Christmas day and we have made the most of it by decorating cookies, going ice skating and singing lots of carols. Tonight we’ll be home for Christmas Eve dinner followed by lunch with the whole Brooks family tomorrow (32 for lunch – not at my house, thankfully!)...

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Dec 16

2015

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I ♥ Your Style: Beatrix Ost

 

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These colours are irresitible. And I love the mixture of formality in the architectural details and individual expression in her hair colour and shoe choice.

“I had to have the taste of city in order to appreciate the country.” – Beatrix Ost

Naturally I am drawn to any woman who leaves a thriving life in New York City to raise her children on a farm in the countryside. Artist Beatrix Ost (along with her husband) did just that in 1982, decamping from her creative and eccentric city lifestyle and re-creating the rural version of it in a 19th century Edwardian home on 500 acres just outside Charlottesville, Virginia. What I personally respond to most is how little her style – both in fashion and interiors – has changed in her evolution from city to country life. The turban remains in place, the leopard is ever present, and she wears skirts and dresses like she is on her way to a perpetual cocktail party. Her home has many elements of country life – a relaxed coziness, depictions of farm animals, and a kitchen right at the heart of the house – but also it is infused in each room with her signature color palette and evidence of an artful life throughout. ..

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Dec 10

2015

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Life on the Farm: Happy to Be Home, Even in the Dark

There’s no arguing about the fact that English winters bring gloom – it’s pitch black by 4pm, the wind howls so loud it wakes me up at night, a glimpse of the sun is rare, and we wake in darkness each and every morning. When we moved here from NYC three and a half years ago, it was these wet, dark months that made me most nervous. How would I cope? One New York friend – a doctor who had lived in England during his school years – advised me to get a light box to ward off depression. Others implored us to book a holiday somewhere sunny over both Christmas vacation and February half term. ..

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Dec 01

2015

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Life On The Farm: When Coco Met Jake

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Coco and Jake looking back over the first Owl’s Hole they ever jumped, just one of many firsts together.

It’s been 10 days since we said goodbye to Jake, and my eyes still fill with tears each time I think of him. We haven’t even sold him yet! Two Sundays ago we sent him to live in an agent’s yard who will market him, show him to potential buyers and negotiate his eventual sale. He’s had a lot of interest and a handful of people are coming back this week for a second try on him. Despite my sadness, I feel so happy for the lucky person who is going to take him home. But I didn’t always feel that way.

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Little eleven-year-old Coco on the day she met five-year-old Jake.

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It was love at first sight for these two.

We bought Jake for Coco when he was five and she was nearly twelve. Five is definitely on the young side for a horse intended to be ridden by a child. But Coco had always inherited excellent and more experienced ponies from her older cousins – they were “push button” as horse people like to say when referring to a horse that will do anything you ask on command. First Mr Teddy and then Sailor followed by Polo had all made Coco a confident and daring rider. So both her coach and her grandmother felt she was up to the task of taking on a bit more of challenge. ..

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Nov 24

2015

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I ♥ Your Style: Laura Ferrara

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For the last two years, every time I came across a photo of Laura Ferrara and her amazing farm Westwind Orchard in upstate New York, I have been so overwhelmed by what she’s accomplished that I have to look away. I first spotted photos of her farm-based pizza restaurant on Instagram, and then I noticed her homemade jam and honey with its perfectly designed packaging on Pinterest, and then Garance Doré was blogging about apple picking at Westwind and EyeSwoon was hosting a harvest supper there, and the whole thing just made me so impressed and inspired but also intimidated and terribly inferior. That was when I decided I had to avert my eyes. How on Earth did she manage to maintain her day job as a fashion editor, while her husband maintained his job as a photographer, and raise a child, and run this amazing farm with all these products and services and also have it open to the public?!? Just when I was starting to feel settled into my quiet, happy life on the farm and getting the feeling that I was finding a balance between work and pleasure and family and my occasional visits to NYC and my writing and my photography, Laura comes along and suddenly I feel that I am accomplishing absolutely nothing at all!!

Isn’t it awful how we beat ourselves up in this way?

Well, this little story I was telling myself about how she was doing everything and I was doing nothing lost some of its power when I found out that they actually bought their farm nearly 15 years ago. Somehow that made everything more relatable and achievable. Not that I see what they have as something I want for myself exactly, but it is my dream to resurrect the productivity of the farm. There are empty fields and abandoned barns dating back to 1860 that have long lost their purpose, and my ultimate goal for living here is to find a reason to bring them back to life. I don’t know what that actually means yet, but I am toying with many ideas, and have given myself until Zach is at boarding school a year and half from now to figure out what the vision and the goal is and to start to slowly work towards it. In the meantime, I am trying out every farm activity possible to identify what I most enjoy doing and how I would like to best use my time. And I am also envying Laura and holding her on a pedestal and admiring her for setting the bar very, very high. ..

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