341 The Farm

(Jayden)

“We have a little bit of everything here,” Viktor says as we settle at the laden long wooden table.

“This is all from the farm?” I ask, glancing over at the colorful dishes, the jams, honey, cheeses, and cured meats. Even the bread and butter has the same label.

“All of it,” Viktor confirms. “The bread is from our grain, milled right here. The honey, the jams, the cheeses—everything comes from what we produce on the land.”

Klara, Viktor’s mother, balances the baby on her hip while ladling soup into bowls. “I’m a local Doula and I make a range of natural remedies and skin care products. Grow all the herbs myself.”

“I have a five-month-old boy. Henry. He was born very prematurely. But he’s growing stronger.”

“I’m glad he is. This vegetable soup is from the garden,” she says, handing me a bowl. “No preservatives, no chemicals—just fresh, organic produce.”

I take a spoonful. It’s rich and earthy, with a depth of flavor I’ve never tasted before. “This is incredible,” I admit, savo