For three brothers in the Berkshires, local food is a calling

From left: Peter, Jeremy, and Sean Stanton at a farmers' market in Great Barrington. Peter is a nutritionist, Jeremy is a chef, and Sean is a farmer. (Stephen Rose for the Boston Globe)

GREAT BARRINGTON - Berkshire chef Jeremy Stanton has cooked for many occasions, from country pig roasts to fancy New York dinners. But the celebration he catered last week topped the list of special events: his own wedding. Stanton tied the knot and cooked for 32 guests at a reception later.

Pitching in were brothers Sean, who farms in Monterey, and Peter, a nutritionist who runs his own business here. The three often collaborate. Peter, 41, Jeremy, 36, and Sean, 32, have been in the Berkshires since they were boys. And while each earns a living in a different facet of the food industry, and so might not overlap, the brothers make sure they do.

Every Wednesday, Jeremy shows up at the Nutrition Center farmers' market in Great Barrington - which Peter runs - and cooks food from the growers. Recently, Jeremy used fresh corn, chopped shiitake mushrooms, summer squash, tomatoes, and onions, sautéed them in pork fat from Sean's farm, and handed out tastes. Last winter he prepared lunches. "I like to have multiple reasons for people to come here," says Peter. Once they taste local food, he says, they'll want more.

Jeremy's business, Fire Roasted Catering, offers dinners or events for a wide range of clients. He uses local meats, including some that Sean raises, and vegetables and cheeses from the area. At home in Southfield, Jeremy lives with his wife, veterinarian Emily Newman. They recently planted 12 grapevines in the backyard, where everything from raspberries to beets grows in a crowded garden. "This is our Eden," he says, as three dogs of various sizes dash underfoot.

A few miles away in Monterey, Sean raises cows, laying hens, chickens, and pigs. The 135-acre Blue Hill Farm stretches across one hill and looks out at others that have a blue hue at certain times of day. He supplies several Berkshire restaurants and the celebrated Blue Hill Restaurant in New York's Greenwich Village. The land is owned by the family of Blue Hill's chef and owner Dan Barber.

Sean, the quietest of the three, with a wry humor, shepherds what he calls his "motley crew," all heritage breeds, early every morning from the hill to the red barn to be milked. From a distance, you can see him, his head slightly bowed, the last in line. A cow bell rings on one cow. "She's the boss," says Sean.

Peter lives and works in a renovated Great Barrington Victorian, where he runs his nutrition programs. Rather than counseling people on what they should or shouldn't eat, he offers dinners and classes. He cohosts international events with Bridge, a local nonprofit organization whose goal is to bring various cultures together with food, welcomes local growers into a mini farmers' market, and offers a Kid's Kitchen program that includes classes in which a storyteller explains how yeast works, for instance, or examines plants under a magnifying class.

The brothers have a sister and another brother, all raised by Andrea and Nick Stanton in what Peter calls a "life sharing community" - at a table filled with a variety of guests, many international - on a farm between Philadelphia and Amish country in Pennsylvania. The Stantons were very particular about what went on the table. "We drove to just the right orchard for apples," says Peter, and to a certain butcher for meat.

He remembers a large vegetable garden, often tended by international volunteers. "We were introduced to cooking from all over the world," he says.

They moved to the Berkshires when Sean, the youngest, was 10, and continued a similar lifestyle. Their maternal grandmother and great aunt - both picklers, foragers, and enthusiastic cooks living in nearby Copake, N.Y. - also influenced the brothers. "Every meal was an event," says Peter. Jeremy adds, "There was no casual eating." Cozy dishes such as buttered and salted potatoes, green beans, and roasted meats graced their table, along with more exotic tastes like tea made with corn silk.

A visit to his paternal grandmother in England gave Peter a push toward a life in food. He was 19 and aimless when he visited her and stumbled across two boxes under his bed. One was filled with copies of a book his grandfather, a physician, had written, called "Health Hazards of a Western Diet." Another was filled with whole-wheat pasta he had bought in Italy and tried to sell in England in the late 1960s.

Peter returned home with the book and the pasta, enrolled in nutrition classes at Berkshire Community College, and then studied nutrition at Seattle's Bastyr University. While he believes in healthy eating, he says, "there is room for enjoying things that aren't healthy but taste good." Nostalgic foods often fall into this category, he says, and he also takes pleasure in those dishes.

Sean began his farming career after a four-year stint in the Coast Guard, and then liberal arts courses at the local community college. As he pours milk from his own herd - Clover, Hope, Joy, Annabelle, and others - he talks about how it was his desire for raw milk that first intrigued him. "I racked up a bill at a farm," he says, and before long was invited by the farmer to work it off. Then he started farming at his parents' house, supplied Blue Hill Restaurant with meat, and was eventually offered the Blue Hill land. He started with 40 chickens and now has 400.

Jeremy was drawn to cooking from the start. After he worked in restaurants around the country, he enrolled at the Culinary Institute of America. He returned to the Berkshires to work with Steven Taub of La Bruschetta in West Stockbridge, a chef he considers his mentor. For a time, Jeremy ran his own pasta business. He's been catering in Southfield, making simple seasonal dishes.

His wedding celebration was small, which is why he decided to cook himself. He and Newman loaded the car and a small trailer and headed to Nantucket, a favorite place of her family. They served oysters, corn, and tomatoes, along with chickens from Sean's farm. Jeremy set up four 8-foot tables, which he and his brothers made for the occasion.

Last Wednesday afternoon, instead of his usual cooking sessions at the nutrition center, the groom and his bride stood on a moor facing the ocean to say their vows. Then they sat down with their guests to a local feast.

In many ways, the celebration was just like the brothers' childhood dinners. It just didn't take place around the old family table.