puting down roots

I've decided I'm in Vermont to stay. I should have a new, more permanent farm home here in southern Vermont in a few days.

While in Nova Scotia I found myself getting homesick after a week on the road. Strange. Over the last few years I've spent so much time traveling that I'd begun to feel at home only when I was in a new place. But the funny thing was that I wasn't homesick for Minnesota, but for Vermont. I took that as evidence that I should put down some roots in the Green Mountains.

I believe its the most progressive rural area in the country, and a place I could see myself raising a family and making a difference. I've met fantastic folks to work with, and feel a part of a strong and vibrant community.

It feels like home here. Come visit anytime.

something in the water

For a boy from the prairie, its always a treat to spend time around the ocean. While passing through Yarmouth on my way back to Maine, I stumbled upon the annual "Shark Scramble." Basically a bunch of dudes killing sharks for no good reason. Atlantic fisheries have collapsed to the point where tourist events are the only way fishermen can make some money.

The "winning" shark was 367kg.

I did make about $30 busking on the wharf during the weigh-in though. So I guess it wasn't all bad.

Nova Scotia farm life

After my time in Halifax, I spent a week on the Bruce Family Farm in Bridgetown, Nova Scotia. Located in the Annapolis Valley near the Bay of Fundy (largest tides in the world!), the Bruces raise organic beef, chicken, and lamb. They are the sixth generation on their land, and are leading the way in their area in organic production. A really fantastic family who were generous in sharing their home and knowledge.

The Annapolis Valley was formerly the bread basket of Atlantic Canada, but has suffered in the last decades due to imported agricultural products from the west coast. The result is fewer and fewer farms being put to use, and the economy has struggled as young people leave for better paying jobs in oil-boom Alberta.

But agriculture still has a strong presence in the area, which was evident at the Annapolis Valley Exhibition. The Bruces are active in 4H and organic agriculture organizations, so we ended up spending pretty much every evening at the fairgrounds. There was livestock, giant pumpkins, and quilts. Very much akin to a Midwestern county fair, except more people speaking French while munching their mini-donuts or poutine.

Most fascinating to me was the draft horse pull (I apologize for the 2002-era video quality!):


If you notice the horses put their whole weight and strength into their pull, jumping off the start in order to move that big sled. This may get the most torque and movement, but makes these horses not much use for practical farm work. It wouldn't do to have a team pull your plow clean out of the ground!

Nonetheless, it is in incredible to see how much these horses can pull. The winning team pulled over 11,000 lbs of dead weight! Who needs a tractor, right? Many folks in the area still use teams of horses or oxen during the winter to pull logs out of the woods. They can get into tighter places than tractors, and can obviously do the job that needs to be done. And animal traction is becoming more and more attractive to small farmers and loggers as the price of fuel goes through the roof.

Maybe the Amish are on to something.

Nouvelle Ecosse

After disembarking the ferry from Maine in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, and a very pleasant 90 minute interview with Canadian Border Control, I was granted entry to our great neighbor to the north. I spent the night with some folks from Couchsurfing.com (the best way to travel!!!) who gave me a whirlwind tour of the area. We visited some of the Acadian francophone towns, and took in a very odd parade:The next morning I hitched up the coast to Halifax, where I spent 3 nights with a friend. Its a beautiful city on the sea, immensely walkable, and supports one of the best farmers markets in the world. I highly recommend a visit.

A Brief Vermont Farewell

A few weeks ago I bid Adieu to Peaked Mountain Farm. I was having a tough time working for some folks whose business practices and personal philosophies I couldn't appreciate. But I left with the skills I'd started out to learn, and I don't regret my time on the mountain.

After leaving I picked up and split for Nova Scotia.

Oyster Mushrooms.

I found these tasty fellows while walking up the mountain yesterday. These are one of the easiest edible mushrooms to identify. They are bright white, attached by a thin leg to a log, where they grow in large groups. They are firm fleshed, and have a rich mushroom aroma.

King of Turnips

The constant rains and cool weather of the Green Mountains have their benefits. One being some major league turnips coming out of our garden! Huzzah and cheers!

Heart of the beast

Admit it, you've always wanted to eat a heart. The flavor is surprisingly mild, yet strikingly different from your average cut of beef. Here's how I whipped one up.

Make sure you go to a reputable butcher or better yet, a farmer you trust. Organ meats can be a nasty business if the source isn't a good one. And of course organic meats are always a good bet. I bought this 3 pound piece at Jersey Girls Dairy in Chester, Vermont.

First off, cut the heart in half, and remove all the silverskin, ventricles, veins, arteries, or whatever looks less than appetizing. You want to just have the muscle left, which sops up the lovely marinade you'll be making. The trimmings will be greatly appreciated by any canine friends.
Note: the left side has been mostly trimmed, the right side has not.

Next slice it up into easily managed strips, about 1 1/2 inches wide and a few inches long, with a thickness of about 1/2 inch. Big enough to easily handle on the grill, but not so big that it'll take ages to cook.
Next make your marinade. I believe its important for the quality of your ingredients to shine through, so I used a very simple preparation. I rubbed a healthy dose of salt and fresh ground black pepper into the slices, along with a sprinkling of red pepper flakes. Make sure the spices are well integrated into the meat. I then added a bit of nice balsamic vinegar and a cup or so of red wine. Mix it all up, and leave it to marinate 24 hours in the refrigerator. Stir it at least once during this time.

Get a nice hot grill going, and drain the liquid away from the meat. You can then pat it dry or rinse it with cold water if you think you've overdone the salt. Grill the pieces 3-5 minutes a side, depending on thickness. This is an exceedingly lean cut of meat (the heart is pure muscle after all), so take care not to overcook it. The texture should be firm, but not at all rubbery.

We served the heart on a bed of baby spinach, mushrooms, and onions with a bit of olive oil. Simple and incredibly tasty.

It may seem obscenely carnivorous to eat a heart, but truly it is no less so than eating any other piece of the cow. I think it is truly a shame that we treat offal (vital organs of an animal) as waste product in our society. The internal organs of animals are rich in nutrients and flavor, even though it may be a flavor that has been cast off in our culture that has come to value standardization and predictability in taste. Moreover, I truly believe that if one is to make the choice to eat meat, one should take responsibility for that choice. That means honoring the sacrifice that animal has made, and making the most of their life it supports and enriches your own.

Enjoy!

Jack is a donkey.

Its his job to protect the sheep. I'm not sure he'd stand his ground against a pack of mutton-hungry coyotes, but I'll give him the benefit of a doubt.

Separation Anxiety

Today was the day. 68 of our lambs hit the road to their new home on a farm in New York, and then on to a dinner plate near you.

The ewes had their first milking of the year as well. Then its no surprise then that their mothers were in a rough state today. The ewes constantly pace their pasture, calling out for the lambs. Sheep are pretty damned loud to begin with, but take away their kiddies and its nearly deafening. It is a bit sad, but it is all part of dairying. No babies, no milk.

It is lovely to be working before sunrise, to see the whole day unfold before your eyes. And in a strange way it comforts me to be too exhausted to stay up much past sundown: Its dark, its time to sleep.

Life in the Colonies

The move to Vermont has been fruitful. So far I've met some amazing folks, learned much of sheep and their ovine ways, heard one of my farmer heroes speak, and had some great friends visit. And rest assured, I'm eating insanely well.

I am living in the southern part of the state, outside the village of Townshend (est. 1754) working on a sheep dairy called Peaked Mountain Farm. We're in the foothills of the Green Mountains, not too far from Brattleboro, a town recently noted for voting to arrest Bush and Cheney if they ever set foot in town.

I spend most of my time moving sheep around on pasture and taking care of newborn lambs. After the lambs are weaned (and sold to a farm in New York) we'll start milking the ewes and making cheese. If you get a chance to try Peaked Mountain Farm cheese, do it. Its probably the best raw milk sheep cheese in the country. However, its only distributed in the immediate area and to a few New York City and Boston area restaurants. Or if I really love you I'll FedEx you some.

Anyhoot. I'm blogging, something I thought I would never do, to keep all y'all informed of what I'm learning, experiencing, and hoping to do with this wealth of agricultural lore. I hope to post recipes, dance steps, and photos as well.

I'll be out here until October at least, and then hope to make my way back to Minnesota to start the search for a permanent farm home!