Oh, Litchfield County, I might owe you an apology. If this Readers’ Choice issue has taught me anything, it’s that I really need to get out more. Like, a lot more. I’m embarrassed by how many of these businesses I haven’t visited. Well… maybe not “embarrassed” per se. I stopped being embarrassed when I realized nobody’s embarrassed by anything anymore, as evidenced by TikTok.
In my own defense, my hermetic habits began as soon as I moved to Kent 15 years ago. “What Not to Wear,” the TV show I co-hosted for a decade, was ridiculously popular at the time. Because I was critical of people’s clothing choices on the show, members of the general public thought I should be held to high style standards in my free time.
“Clinton! You’re wearing a T-shirt! Isn’t that what not to wear?”
“Ummm. I’m wearing it with sneakers and running shorts because I’m literally exercising right now. This is a gym.”
After a few thousand similar interactions, I learned to lock myself away from the scrutinizing eyes of humans and get in touch with nature. A squirrel will never say your comfy shoes look like a couple of desiccated cow patties. A white-tailed doe won’t roll her eyes at your jeans because they make your butt look flat. A beaver will never criticize your coat! Unless it’s lined with actual beaver, in which case you will receive some brutal side-eye.
But I did manage to get off my own property a little, especially after the show got cancelled. And so I’d like to take this opportunity to give props to some of my Litchfield County favorites. Some of which made the best of lists, some of which may have been overlooked by you, dear reader. Yes, you. You’re not perfect either, ya know. <insert winky emoji here>
Aspetuck Animal Hospital, specifically Dr. Trish, thank you for talking me down off a ledge when my 14-year-old Jack Russell, Mary, started spewing all sorts of liquids from all sorts of orifices. I will forever appreciate your after-hours appointment, even if it meant picking you up from your home because your kid borrowed your car. If you ever need a ride again, call me. You’ve got my number.
Arethusa Farm Dairy, your mint chip ice cream got me through the darkest days of the pandemic. And nights. And afternoons. And sometimes mornings. I will love you with all my heart for as long as my body can tolerate lactose. If that changes, all bets are off.
Kent Greenhouse, you have the patience of whatever patron saint watches over amateur gardeners who wouldn’t know their asters from their elbows. You have answered my stupid questions with patience, and in exchange I have given you all the money I’ve ever made.
Megan at Marble Valley Farm, you are my favorite farmer. Mostly because I don’t know any others, but that’s neither here nor there. You have encouraged my heirloom tomato addiction and introduced me to Peter Wilcox—who rocked my world. (He’s a potato, people. Get your minds out of the gutter.)
J.P. Gifford, you consistently make the best bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll I’ve ever eaten. OMG so gooey and eggy and bacony. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. And thanks to Kent Pharmacy for the Lipitor chaser.
