Last Sunday I and one of my staff made a trek out to the country to visit a farm and its "cheesery." (I'm wondering if there is even such a word.) It was the annual Open Creamery Day, when Maine creameries welcome visitors in to taste their cheeses and yogurts, see their livestock and bucolic surroundings. The Kennebec Cheesery at Koons Farm in the town of Sidney was the closest, so that's where we went.
The owners are Mainer Peter Koons and wife Jean who is from New Zealand. Peter spent 25 years living in New Zealand, and then family matters brought him back to the old homestead. I asked Jean if she missed New Zealand -- which certainly qualifies as a stupid question, for of course she would -- and she admitted that she did, but, she said, when they were in New Zealand they missed Maine, so it was a tradeoff. She is from the South Island, where they've been having all the bad earthquakes, and still has family there (including a 90-year-old mother), so I'm sure it must be worrisome for her. It was hard enough on me, worrying about my parents who were only 1700 miles away, rather than literally half a world away.
Jean is the cheese maker, and makes her cheese primarily from goat's milk, though she does get fresh cow's milk from a neighboring farm for one of her cheeses. We spent a very pleasant hour soaking up the country quiet, the pretty views -- the farm looks down a wooded slope to Messalonskee Lake -- and gawking at the goats, including two cute babies, who really did make that ehh-ehhh-ehhh goat sound. The adults were for the most part silent, although a lone billy goat, tethered off by himself ("because, quite frankly, he stinks," Peter said. "Female goats don't smell, but billy goats tend to be really rank." Now how many of you knew that?) did keep up a steady protest at being tethered off by himself.
We also went into the little building where they make the cheese, and where Jean's assistant gave us an explanation of how the various cheeses are made. Actually sounded relatively simple, but time-consuming. Do the milking in the morning, pour it into the big stainless steel vat and heat it to a certain temperature ("a kind of pasteurization"), let it set for a while, then pour off the curd that has risen to the top, putting it into little pyramid-shaped molds, or round ones. The molds have holes through which the whey drains. Then the cheese is salted, put into the refrigerator for a period of time (during which a "small amount" of whey continues to drain away). Finally, it's combined with olive oil and a variety of herbs, or rolled in other herbs, and it's ready to sell.
And we both bought some cheese. Jean had several kinds to sample. I really liked the basil-in-olive-oil chevre (which literally means 'goat', but also refers to goat cheese), but then I tasted the ball of cheese that had been rolled in dill and that was so delicious I had to get that one. (Starving Librarians cannot afford two cheeses at once.) I was disappointed to learn that all the places where Jean regularly sells her cheeses are in towns that, like Sidney, lie north of Augusta -- Waterville, Skowhegan, Oakland. However, she does frequent the Augusta Farmer's Market, so if I can make myself get over there on Tuesdays, I can get some more of her tasty cheese, and feel good about supporting a local farmer in the bargain.
Showing posts with label farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label farming. Show all posts
Friday, October 14, 2011
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The farmer in the dell
[Just this minute realized I have been producing this blog for exactly a year. Haven't set the world on fire with it, but it has more or less served its purpose from my viewpoint – i.e., it's kept me writing – and people do seem to drop in from time to time. So perhaps I'll try for a second year.]
Passed a lot of farms on my trip, first in Maine, then in New York, finally in Pennsylvania. I had thought that Bucknell University, my destination, was deep in the Pennsylvania mountains, but what it's deep in the heart of is pretty, hilly, farm country. It would seem that farming is still alive and well, or anyway alive, in the United States, even though, as I asked my little tape recorder, "Why would anyone want to be a farmer these days?" Besides the time-honored draw-backs of being at the mercy of the weather and the market, it's hard to take a vacation, can't call in sick, if you have animals you have to get up at an ungodly hour to take care of them, every single day, and it's all gotten so much more complicated than it was in the good ol' days.
You work hard, and you don't get rich, in a nutshell.
But luckily for all of us who like to eat, some people still do want to do it, want to live the life, and are willing to endure the difficulties. I have to admire them, and it has only recently occurred to me that it might be a good thing to support them, as well. Buying locally-grown produce, if that's indicated as such, at the supermarket is obviously one way to do that. But it's now possible to interact even more directly. There's actually a site online, www.LocalHarvest.org, that tells you, and shows you on a map, where all the farms are. Or at any rate, all those that have registered with the site.
And what a great idea! You feel like some free-range chicken eggs, or some raw milk, or honey, or maple syrup, or apples you pick yourself, or something called "sustainably grown heritage vegetables," or even grass-fed beef, you can find the closest farm, and get in touch, perhaps drive on over. Or for that matter, order stuff from a farm in the next state, two states away. You can, in other words, support local farms, or small family farms in general. The little guy struggling to maintain both a way of life – the absence of which would leave this a poorer country, in more ways than one – and to supply his fellow human beings with that which is truly the staff of life: food. And not just food – the great big, heavily-mechanized, corporate-run farms supply that – but food produced in ways that are more environmentally sound than those used by the big guys.
Convenience has generally been my god in such matters, and there's no denying the local supermarket is convenience writ large. And cost is always a consideration for Starving Librarians, and other low-income types. But I may, I just may, make more of an effort to step outside my convenience zone, and Support My Local Farm.
Somebody's gotta do it.
Passed a lot of farms on my trip, first in Maine, then in New York, finally in Pennsylvania. I had thought that Bucknell University, my destination, was deep in the Pennsylvania mountains, but what it's deep in the heart of is pretty, hilly, farm country. It would seem that farming is still alive and well, or anyway alive, in the United States, even though, as I asked my little tape recorder, "Why would anyone want to be a farmer these days?" Besides the time-honored draw-backs of being at the mercy of the weather and the market, it's hard to take a vacation, can't call in sick, if you have animals you have to get up at an ungodly hour to take care of them, every single day, and it's all gotten so much more complicated than it was in the good ol' days.
You work hard, and you don't get rich, in a nutshell.
But luckily for all of us who like to eat, some people still do want to do it, want to live the life, and are willing to endure the difficulties. I have to admire them, and it has only recently occurred to me that it might be a good thing to support them, as well. Buying locally-grown produce, if that's indicated as such, at the supermarket is obviously one way to do that. But it's now possible to interact even more directly. There's actually a site online, www.LocalHarvest.org, that tells you, and shows you on a map, where all the farms are. Or at any rate, all those that have registered with the site.
And what a great idea! You feel like some free-range chicken eggs, or some raw milk, or honey, or maple syrup, or apples you pick yourself, or something called "sustainably grown heritage vegetables," or even grass-fed beef, you can find the closest farm, and get in touch, perhaps drive on over. Or for that matter, order stuff from a farm in the next state, two states away. You can, in other words, support local farms, or small family farms in general. The little guy struggling to maintain both a way of life – the absence of which would leave this a poorer country, in more ways than one – and to supply his fellow human beings with that which is truly the staff of life: food. And not just food – the great big, heavily-mechanized, corporate-run farms supply that – but food produced in ways that are more environmentally sound than those used by the big guys.
Convenience has generally been my god in such matters, and there's no denying the local supermarket is convenience writ large. And cost is always a consideration for Starving Librarians, and other low-income types. But I may, I just may, make more of an effort to step outside my convenience zone, and Support My Local Farm.
Somebody's gotta do it.
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