Monday, October 19, 2009

The Farm Tour into Artisanal Obscurity

I'm remembering years ago, attending a church men's event in Nashville, hearing a bluegrass band called "The Clusterpluckers." Despite their name, they were fantastic; and I kept thinking how nobody knew who they were. Here were these fabulous musicians, working away in relative obscurity -- like goodness knows how many other equally talented artists that, for lack of a gimmick or an eager agent, toiled away well-beneath the radar; plying their craft and, I have to imagine, enjoying and finding life amidst the plucking.

Today at breakfast, Dave the Innkeeper handed us a pre-programmed GPS unit that would lead us to all the farms whose produce routinely shows up on the menus of the Inn. We could have spent days moving from one to another, but we settled on 4 and hit the road. Chef Jason, last night, had enthusiastically encouraged us to visit Woodcock Farm that makes award winning artisanal cheese -- mostly sheep's milk, but some cow's milk as well. Dave reinforced the recommendation, and after receiving a phone call that cheese making was underway, we hit the road -- first the highway, then the lane, then the dirt road, then the pocked farm road that led to the tiny operation. Mark Fischer, the owner and cheese maker left his work long enough to give us an explanation of the process and invite us to watch through the window, before darting back to the work space to join his wife Gari draining the whey that later would become excitement for the farm hogs to drink; scooping the curds and forming the loafs of nascent cheese; lifting the cheesecloth to turn the forms, one by one by one.

While he was at work I noticed taped to the wall handwritten notes listing the addresses of cheese shops in New York and Boston -- hints of the quality underway. And we lingered, watching, tasting...and eventually purchasing from this craftsman/farmer and his wife almost invisibly, in this out of the way farm, creating excellence.

Another cheese farm followed; then to visit an herbalist who grows organic vegetables and herbs, the latter of which she compounds into creams and oils for various uses -- and teas. She showed us the varieties, one tea of which was specially formulated for people recovering from hip surgery. We passed on the tea, for now, but kept her phone number and address just in case.

The cider mill was next -- a farm and operation that has been in the family for over 100 years, using equipment every bit that old. We studied the apple press, watched the juice boiling, the steam rising, the careful hands stirring, and followed the process from the boiler to the reducer and ultimately into the jelly jars. Willis Wood -- of Wood Cider Mill -- has recently been part of an experience with Chef Jason filming an upcoming television show with Emeril, and though he could have been cocky about the splash of attention, guessed instead that his part would probably wind up on the editing room floor.

We could have continued on, with other similar experiences, but already we were full -- nourished by these wonderful artisans, toiling away in relative anonymity. On out of the way roads that need a GPS to find, are these incredibly gifted families routinely creating masterworks of their particular art.

Each time we pulled back out on the highway I found myself thinking back on those Clusterpluckers, and how -- for lack of the right publicity -- these folks could be really famous; only to realize that they are already making all they can. Making more would require fundamentally changing how they work, and they prefer the hands-on approach. Quality, in other words, is preferable to quantity.

My guess is that people pressed Rembrandt to produce more paintings faster, as well. The fact that his works aren't hanging in Holiday Inns suggests that he, too, chose art over rank abundance.

Chances are we won't be finding these cheeses or these ciders and jellies and syrups there (or their grocery store equivalents) either. Thanks be to God. We'll have to go to them -- or, in a pinch, rely on Federal Express.

1 comment:

Terri H. said...

What a wonderful day! Thanks so much for sharing it, with pics even!