Farm to Table with Jim Belushi

A gentle rain thumped down on the roof of our ATV as Belushi hit the gas and accelerated toward a large, wooden barn across an open field. His property stretched around us as we neared the end of our tour of his expansive farm.

We stopped at the edge of his propertyline and gazed up at a historic barn, its beams standing stoically amid tangles of blackberry bushes. We passed through a small, unlocked fence. “I have to keep this open because it’s county property, so they have a right to cut through here and go down to the river – which is cool,” Belushi noted. The rain intensified and suddenly we were running.

I tailed him through the field and watched as he gracefully scaled an iron gate near the barn’s entrance. “Can you climb a fence?” he asked while extending a hand from the other side. I was already halfway over, awkwardly stumbling to maintain an air of professionalism while straddling the damp, groaning gate.

We entered the barn, and the smell of dust, old oil, and rat droppings wafted through the air. The rain outside fell in thick sheets, creating a deafening rumble against the tin roof. Inside the barn, rusting machinery, empty bottles, and thick spiderwebs filled the cathedral-like