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Hotchkiss Library’s Book Signing Weekend draws readers of all ages
Stephanie Stanton
One notable local author was former Secretary of State and Secretary of Defense under Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford, Henry Kissinger. Authors from farther away have included Pulitzer Prize winner and former executive editor of The Washington Post and The Boston Globe, Marty Baron, Bard College writer-in-residence Francine Prose and National Book Award winner Susan Choi.
2025’s Hotchkiss Library of Sharon’s Summer Book Signing WeekendStephanie Stanton
This year’s featured headliner was scheduled to be E. Jean Carroll, whose book “Not My Type: One Woman vs. a President” chronicles her legal battles with President Donald Trump. Unfortunately, another legal decision was issued in her favor in June, sparking outrage and violent rhetoric from some Trump supporters. Consequently, Carroll’s appearances have been canceled.
But there is still plenty to be excited about at this year’s Book Signing Weekend, and a lot of it has to do with food. For years, the weekend has featured Author Dinners, intimate gatherings hosted by library patrons in their homes in Sharon and neighboring towns. Among the authors attending these dinners are travel writer and influencer Jennifer Broome, geneticist and internationally recognized anti-racism educator Shaumita Dasgupta, and Russian-born New York Times bestselling novelist Gary Shteyngart.
The dinners, however, are just the beginning. On Saturday, the library will host its second annual Page to Plate, a literary celebration of food.
Throughout the day, attendees can enjoy talks, demonstrations and perhaps even a cocktail or two from chefs, bakers and, of course, writers.Featured guests include novelist Adam Roberts, author of “Food Person: a Novel”; Bread Alone founder Daniel Leader; and Chris Morocco, food director of Bon Appetit and Epicurious. Programming is divided into morning and afternoon sessions, with tickets available for either session or the full day.
Of course, the main event is the book signing itself, when dozens of authors will sign books available for purchase at the library.
For tickets, visit hotchkisslibraryofsharon.org
Owners Asio and Angela Highsmith
Provided
Asio’s wife Angela, a California native drawn to nature, had spent years bringing their children to the Berkshires. The family already owned property there, and the pandemic simply accelerated the move they were already considering. Their son summed up the family’s feelings best when he was 5 years old. “He said, ‘I want to be in a place where there’s more trees than people,’” Angela recalled.
The move wasn’t motivated by business ambitions. In fact, neither Asio nor Angela intended to become entrepreneurs again. “We came up here for the outdoors and for the beauty,” Angela said. The espresso truck emerged almost by accident. When old café equipment began taking over their basement, Angela suggested putting it on a truck.
“That’s exactly what happened,” Asio laughed. What began as a practical idea soon evolved into something much larger.
To find out where the Best Damn Espresso truck will be on any given morning, text ‘BDE’ to 844-659-1203Provided
Asio brings decades of hospitality experience to the business. A lifelong bartender and mixologist, he approaches espresso the same way a master cocktail maker approaches a drink — with precision, intention and respect for the craft.
“Coffee means community,” he said. “It’s a big part of the hospitality vision that my wife and I want to bring to the world.” For Asio, every drink matters. “My motto is one drink at a time,” he said. “I focus on what’s in front of me.”
That philosophy extends beyond the espresso machine. Customers aren’t simply buying a beverage; they’re entering an experience shaped by two people who view hospitality as an act of service. “Food is magic. Coffee is magic,” Asio said. “It’s an exchange of great energy.”
Angela, who often works the front of the truck, describes the customer relationship in similar terms. “When someone comes to the truck, you’re hosting them,” she said. “You’re entertaining them. You’re giving them exactly what they want.”
Despite doing almost no traditional marketing, Best Damn Espresso has developed a devoted following throughout the region. Asio attributes that growth to consistency rather than promotion. “Advertising is overrated if your product is mid,” he said.
The name itself — Best Damn Espresso — is intentionally bold. Many businesses would hesitate to make such a claim. Asio sees it differently. “It’s actually me challenging myself,” he explained. “Every time I look at that truck, I see ‘Best Damn Espresso.’ The aspiration for being great at what we do happens every day.” That relentless pursuit of quality appears to resonate with customers.
Four years after launching, the company has expanded from a single truck to multiple units. Yet despite the growth, Asio and Angela remain focused on maintaining the same personal connection that defined the business from the beginning. They have also become unexpected pioneers in the local food-truck scene. “There wasn’t really a food truck presence in Great Barrington before we started,” Asio said. Today, several food trucks operate in the area, some inspired by their success. “The benefit is inspiring someone,” he said.
To receive daily updates on the truck’s location, customers can text “BDE” to 844-659-1203.
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A cold mountain brook that enters one of the New York City reservoirs.
Patrick L. Sullivan
I remember as a callow youth of 12 being instructed by an impossibly ancient codger -- hell, he was probably 65 -- that a Leadwing Coachman wet fly, size 10-14, would produce on the Esopus when nothing else would. In the intervening half century I have put this proposition to the test and found it accurate.
What was different this year was the isos were flying around. Usually we see their casings on the rocks, but not the adult mayflies in the air.
Adult mayfly.Patrick L. Sullivan
The first night it was all browns in the 14-18 range. The second night it was all rainbows in the 10-14 range.
That was early in the trip. Three days in, things warmed up considerably, and without any mitigating rain.
So the range of options was limited, and the preferred time of day was just before dawn. Note I said “preferred.” The actual start time varied depending on how late my attorney, Thos., and I stayed up watching Fu Manchu movies.
I low-crawled up a mountain brook at dawn with a Tenkara rod and did okay with wild browns. On the scramble out I had a brief and alarming encounter with a descendant of the Hound of the Baskervilles, whose owner helpfully said “Don’t make any sudden moves.”
“Any chance of a leash here?” I said in what I hoped was a cheerful, non-threatening tone of voice.
So there’s that.
Gary Dodson alerted us that the Spot That Must Not Be Named was in play. This is a cold mountain brook that enters one of the New York City reservoirs and depending on how full the latter is, forms a channel of cold water that mixes in with the warmer reservoir water. If the timing is right, the angler can latch into some decent trout and whatever else has fins and an inquisitive nature.
So one morning, while the boys worked the big deep cold pool by the bridge, I made my way downstream, deploying the stream thermometer frequently to try and figure out the magic spot where trout would be comfortable enough to hang out and nosh.
I used a favorite tactic: a dry/dropper rig, with a Chubby Chernobyl as the top fly and de facto bobber, and a series of nymphs and wet flies on an 18-24 inch fluorocarbon tipper dropper, 4X or 5X, tied directly to the bend of the Chubby’s hook.
This worked immediately, with good browns in the 16-18 inch range hitting the nymphs and a Jerry Shillcock isonychia wet fly pattern.
Trout.Patrick L. Sullivan
In a nod to tradition, I used one of my late father’s Orvis Battenkill bamboo rods for the purpose. It is eight feet long in three sections and weighs about 100 pounds. At least that’s how it feels after using graphite rods.
On the last morning the cold to warm water ratio was getting less favorable at the Spot. It was now or never.
Thos. was chucking dries up the big pool.
I waved him down, rerigged him with the dry-dropper combo and gave highly technical instructions.
“Walk around the left of that clump of vegetation, slowly so you don’t make a huge wake, and when the waves die down heave this in there and let it sit, and count to 30. Then twitch it a bit.”
Lo and behold, it worked.
On the medical front, my new right hip didn’t give me any trouble. I didn’t push it either.
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