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Hey everyone, check out DailyCandy! This cool website seeks out fun things to do in cities, trending pastimes, and unique events, and they’ve very recently done a spot on yours truly! Keep an eye out for some twitter and facebook updates. We know we’ve recently been quiet online, but we’ve been quite busy behind the scenes and have a lot of exciting news and upcoming events on the horizon!
Cheers!
Chris
Please join us at the Boston Winery on September 27, 2012 from 6-9:00pm for an evening of handcrafted cheese and wine. During this three hour seminar, we will be showcasing home cheesemaking, demonstrating how to make such cheeses as mozzarella, fromage blanc, and ricotta as well as discussing more difficult, long-term aged cheeses. Examples of the cheeses will be shown in various stages with an emphasis on small-scale home craftsmanship and finished products will be present for sampling! Local artisanal cheeses will also be provided for tasting as we pair them with fantastic wines produced by winemakers!
Tickets are $35, $30 with a valid student ID, and are available from the BOSTON WINERY with limited space. Please call 617-265-9463 to make reservations! Home cheesemaking starter kits and wines will be available for purchase after the event!
Spending the day at Robie Farm in Piermont, New Hampshire is like entering into a story book. Tucked into the valley along the meandering Connecticut River that separates Vermont and New Hampshire, Robie Farm is nearly picture perfect. My friend Jessica and I arrived bright and early, just after the morning milking, to make cheese with head cheesemaker Mark Robie. The Robie’s have lived on the same grounds for six generations, inhabiting the very same farmhouse in fact (with a renovated kitchen of course, reiterates Betty Sue the consummate matriarch) that was built amidst the turmoil of the Civil War. But cheesemaking is a rather new venture for the Robie’s. With declining bulk milk prices, as low as twelve dollars per hundred pounds of milk, and farm bankruptcy occurring all around, the Robie’s quickly realized the need to diversify if they wanted to stay on their patrimonial land. Seven years ago, Mark suggested they start making cheese.
Yours truly preparing the cheese for pressing.
On this fine New Hampshire morning, we were making Piermont. Piermont, named after the region in which it was born, is a true expression of terroir. A semi-hard cheese intended to be aged about four months, it’s a product of the mixed milk of the Robie’s small herd of thirty Holstein and Jersey cows. Cheesemaking is a variable but deliberate art . It takes strict attention, a keen sense of time and cleanliness, and a developed intuition. Nevertheless, and despite the signs of exhaustion wearing on his face from the birth of his first daughter only two weeks prior, Mark was gracious enough to let us take part in the process and to chat with him about the craft of cheesemaking and being a rural artisan.
Hand foraged truffles atop homemade cheese
But before we got too far into the process, after Mark had coagulated the milk and cut the curds, we made it up to the farm house, and greeted by Sammie the friendliest cocker spaniel around, we had the most wonderful breakfast of blueberry coffee cake with homemade butter which we of course washed down with fresh, creamy, raw milk. Well nourished, we returned to the tiny cheesemaking room, and began to ladle the curds into molds for pressing. It quickly became clear from our conversation with Mark, that while he’s a tremendously skilled cheesemaker, his true passion is for wildcraft. I was unfamiliar with the term, though well versed in the practice, which Mark articulated as non-evasive foraging in the wild for foods and medicine. He noted that in developing his knowledge and eye for wildcraft, he now sees food all around him. Not only in the rural forest but in urban streets of Cambridge. “When I walked up to your cheese shop a few months ago, I saw almost twenty edible things right there on the street. Delicious things too. And good for you. They didn’t cost a cent.” I admitted I had never seen these things, and realized then why wildcraft is such a perfect term for the trained and perfected art. Mark invited me up later this fall for a tutorial and I look forward to taking part. Infact, as we departed, he gave us some American truffles he had foraged a few weeks prior. (They made the most delicious over-easy eggs.)
This exceptional hospitality was unexpected but commonplace we quickly found on Robie Farm. After rotating the cheeses to begin the second pressing, and only a short while after breakfast, we returned to the farm house for taco salads with fresh picked corn and garden pico. The true stunner however was the opportunity to nosh on some Swaledale, Mark’s rather elusive farmhouse cheddar. Swaledale is a recipe derived from the English countryside but, lost in time, Mark very well be its only modern maker. It’s dry, rich, and spicy, and paired exceptionally well with the sweet and tangy Apple Jack marc that Mark distills with his friend in his free time. Though we didn’t get the chance, Mark strongly urged us to try the Swaledale with an English Brown Ale, an especially nice combination he stumbled upon one morning over breakfast (I assure you, any judgment of this unconventional breakfast choice was entirely fond).
Asking Mark why he didn’t make more Swaledale, he echoed a common refrain amongst American artisan cheesemakers…“there’s simply not enough space to age it.” Indeed, economically it doesn’t make sense if cheeses that age for only 4 or 5 months sell for nearly as much as cheeses that age for 12. He is currently in the process of drafting plans to expand his aging cellar, and if he is able to fund it, hopefully we’ll be able to find Swaledale on more New England cheese-counters over the next few years. Until then, I suppose we’ll have to “make due” with the delicious Piermont, Toma, and Smoked Toma that round out the line-up of Mark’s cheeses.
Mark stirring the curds
Mark is an idiosyncratic cheesemaker who doesn’t stick strictly to the book. For instance, his cheeses meet rigorous hygiene standards but he doesn’t wear gloves in the cheese making process like most cheesemakers. Though unusual, his rationale was pretty simple. “Gloves make you sloppy, give you a false sense of security. I would argue that I’m actually more hygienic not wearing gloves because I know I have to be careful and that I don’t have a fail-safe to fall back on.” It is that sort of mentality towards quality, and the courage to break with convention, that are the sign of a true craftsman—doing things not because it is “how they’re done” but because that is how they’re done best. Moreover, gloves interfere with Mark’s intimacy with the cheese, the oh-so important “feel” of the craftsman. Rather than exact timing or technology, it’s an acquired sensibility in the hands that tell Mark his cheese is proceeding properly.
I suspect Mark inherited these traits from his father. Lee Robie manages the farm and milks the cows bright and early every morning. Though the quality of the milk produced at Robie Farm is second to none, the farm isn’t completely organic. Lee, again, offered a relatively simple rationale. “At times, a short course of antibiotics to aide an ailing cow is the most humane thing to do. If they’re sick, which is unusual around here, we bring them back to health quickly rather than let them suffer for many months like those afraid of antibiotics do. And when they’re sick or in recovery, we don’t use their milk.” As with humans, antibiotics have been a critical component of increased wellbeing in the modern world. What is critical is not to eliminate antibiotics entirely, but not to overdo them. Indeed, either extreme proves dangerous. Like the gloves Mark chooses not to wear, without the safety net of intensive treatments of antibiotics the farmer is forced to ensure a higher quality of life for his cows and in turn receives a higher quality of milk from them.
The chicken snuck in the photo in time to make it truly cliche
In Mark’s humble words, “the reason we make such great cheese here is not because I’m an exceptional cheesemaker, it’s because my father gives me exceptional milk.” And though Mark is quick to deflect his success, making cheese with him proved to me that his skill is truly honed. Whatever the case, Mark is right… Robie Farm cheese is truly exceptional. I look forward to breaking-fast with some Swaledale and a Nut Brown Ale sooner rather than later.
When our friend Ben invited us to visit his lakeside camp in Maine, we jumped at the chance. A weekend away from the city. A literal breath of fresh air. And, as Ben’s parents own and operate a stove, fireplace, and grill store, the opportunity to utilize a truly beautiful piece of barbecuing hardware. Fantastic. We couldn’t just drop everything and wakeboard the weekend away, however. After a bit of brainstorming, it was decided that we’d celebrate our woodland getaway with a country-inspired beer and cheese pairing. We grabbed a bottle of Mystic’s “Saison Renaud”, Brewery Ommegang’s “Bière d’Hougoumont”, and to change it up and stray from the farmhouse path, Nightshift Brewing’s “Trifecta”. To pair with our trio of nectar, we decided on a healthy and pungent selection of washed rind cheeses: Consider Bardwell’s “Pawlet”, Twig Farm’s “Washed Rind”, Cato Corner Farm’s “Hooligan”, and Jasper Hill’s “Winnimere”. We couldn’t stop there though. A huge fan of goat cheese, we also nabbed some of Blue Ledge Farm’s “Lake’s Edge” and Sage Farm’s “Madonna”. Laden with goodies, we struck out for the untamed wilderness of Vacationland.
The cheeses (clockwise from the top left): Pawlet, Madonna, Lake’s Edge, Washed Rind, Winnimere, and Hooligan
The worlds of craft beer and artisan cheese are represented by an amazingly vast array of styles and products. In this vein, beer continues to charm countless drinkers with its myriad of flavors and engages palates with a plethora of sensations. From silky and subtly carbonated to bursting with effervescence, from malty sweetness to intense hop bitterness, it exists as the perfect companion to another staple (and usually fermented) food – Cheese. Like beer, cheese is incredibly diverse. Derived from a multitude of milks and formatted, aged, and flavored in various ways, cheese spans a wide spectrum of flavors and textures. But what most cheeses do have in common is a high fat content and some degree of saltiness. The residual malt-derived sugars in beer contrast this saltiness nicely. Similarly, acidity, carbonation, and hop bitterness wash and cleanse the palate of milk fats which otherwise may coat the tongue and prevent certain flavors and sensations from gracing the palate.
Farmhouse ales (such as Saisons and Bières de Garde) describe a subset of beers which were used to refresh summertime farm hands, to provide winter employment and labor, and to generate spent grain for wintering cattle. Franco-Belge by heritage, it is thought that the styles hail from Wollonia, the French-speaking region of southern Belgium. Indeed, “Saison” translates to season, while “Bière de Garde” translates to beer of keeping; both exist as relics of a time when farmer-brewers brewed beer seasonally in the late fall and winter – when temperatures were ripe for fermentation to occur – creating a provisionary supply of beer for the remainder of the year. Though the history and culture surrounding these styles is undoubtedly rich, which is why they continue to be personal favorites, little is actually known about the historic recipes and the styles themselves. Farm life, as it turns out, was simply not well documented. Born in Belgium and France, regions well-known for rather laissez-faire brewing traditions, both styles have recently cropped up in the United States with unparalleled vigor. The styles’ loose structure permits a wide acceptance of experimentation, a trait which thrives within the American craft beer initiative. Generally speaking, modern Saisons tend to be ales which are highly carbonated, fruity, and quite dry, while their Bières de Garde counterparts exhibit less hop character, more maltiness, and tend to be more full-bodied.
Mystics “Saison Renaud”, named after their Renaud house yeast, is a light, refreshing, and cheerful Saison. Brewed with Pilsner malt – which imparts a straw color and slightly sweet character – and Saaz Hops, the beer is refreshing and straightforward. With few ingredients to hide behind, “Saison Renaud” not only showcases Mystic’s house yeast strain, but also stands as testament to the technical brewing attention of Mystic’s brewers and their impressive understanding of the farmhouse style. Medium-light in body with hints of straw, spice notes, and subtle fruit, “Saison Renaud” is a fantastic addition to the Mystic lineup. Brewery Ommegang’s “Bière D’Hougoumont” is noticeably darker and heavier than its Saison counterpart. Named after the historic farmstead at the center of Napoleon’s battle at Waterloo, the Hougoumont is said to be brewed with eight different malts, Strisselspalt hops, and is aged on both white oak and hard maple staves. The richly amber-colored beer’s malt character is phenomenal, with caramel notes, hints of toast and toffee, and a comfortable warmth which helps blend everything together. The Strisselspalt hop, a native hop of France – specifically the eastern region around Strasbourg – is a mild varietal known for a roughly 1:1 ration of alpha acids (contributing to bitterness) and beta acids (contributing to flavor and aroma) and is widely regarded as having a mild, pleasant hop aroma which fits the farmhouse bill well. Finally, the oak and maple staves provide a certain spicy, earthy undertone, taking the traditional farmhouse style in a pleasant and slightly different (perhaps more traditional, even?) direction. Finally, Nightshift Brewing’s “Trifecta” rounded off our trio of beers. The “Trifecta” provided something a bit different. Neither grassy nor earthy, “Trifecta” showcased the smoothness of its vanilla and unique triad of Belgian yeasts. Having had the beer before, it was noticeably fruitier this go-around. As it turns out, Nightshift experimented on the ratio of yeast for this eighth batch, culminating in an increased fruitiness and more subdued spice character. As we would come to see, this would ultimately influence how the beer paired with our cheese selection.
Cato Corner Farm’s Hooligan
With the Saisons and otherwise Belgian-styled beer, we looked to geography and history to direct us towards appropriate cheese pairings. In the same region of Wallonia on the Franco-Belgian border, a style of cheese proliferates known as a washed rind cheese. These cheeses are colloquially referred to as the stinky cheeses, with sulfuric and farmy notes that are given off by the particular reddish hued B. Linen bacteria encouraged to grow on the cheese’s exterior. Frequent washings of brine or other liquids, such as beer, wine, or brandy, and a humid aging environment allow the creation of these truly exceptional cheeses. We chose a few of our favorite domestic washed-rind cheeses that are styled after these northern Europe forbearers.
“Pawlet” is the mildest of the bunch. Peter Dixon at Consider Bardwell Farm makes this cheese with the raw milk of a couple of neighbor’s organic Jersey cows. He washes this four to six month aged cheese like a similarly aged infant, only gently. This leads to a textural contrast with the other cheeses featured here which are washed more vigorously and aged for a shorter period of time (around 90 days). Michael Lee at Twig Farm combines the raw milk of his mixed herd of Alpine, Nubian, and Saanen goats with the raw milk of pastured Jersey cows to create his sardonically, if appropriately, named “Washed Rind.” The mixed milk gives this cheese a heighted acidity perfectly complementing the cheese’s subtle sweetness. Cato Corner Farm’s “Hooligan” certainly lives up to its name. This little stinker packs quite a punch, a result of it receiving a bath twice weekly in brine solution which encourages significant bacterial growth. Mark Gillman has nearly perfected the art of washed rind cheeses and actually makes a number of varieties washed in various liquors including eau di vie, grape must, and brown ale.
But since cheese and beer pairing is far from a rigorous science we chose a few untraditional cheeses that we thought would be delicious with the beer and for the tremendous weather. Nearest to the others in style was “Winnimere” from Jasper Hill Farm. This cows milk washed rind cheese is wrapped in on-site harvested spruce bark helping to not only hold this runny cheese together but to give it a tremendous woodsy taste. Its modeled on a cheese known as Èdel de Cleron from the Jura mountain range in Eastern France. Not satisfied that washed rind cheeses were the only delightful pairing we added two fantastic goats to the equation. Greg and Hannah at Blue Ledge Farm make a wonderfully sweet and smooth goats milk cheese known as “Lake’s Edge.” Not only is it tasty but it’s aesthetically gorgeous, with a layer of ash adding visual contrast to the paste and a well formed bloomy white rind. Last, but certainly not least, we included Sage Farm’s soft-ripened disc called “Madonna.” Katie and Molly raise an extremely small herd of sixteen alpine goats and the care they take with them shines brilliantly in their cheese. Madonna has a slightly crumbly paste with a hint of citrus but the floral sweetness of the milk comes through most prominent.
Blue Ledge Farm’s Lakes Edge
“Trifecta” loved the goat cheeses, “Lakes Edge” and “Madonna”. The eighth batch’s fruitiness and smooth vanilla paired well with the clean, creamy, and slightly tangy goat cheese, but was grossly overpowered by the pungent earthiness of the washed rinds, namely “Washed Rind” and “Hooligan”. ”Saison Renaud”, on the other hand, favored these washed rinds. The dry, effervescent, and grassy nature of “Saison Renaud”, highlighted by the earthiness of the noble Saaz hops, both illuminate and contrast the cheeses’ stronger character. Field meets barnyard while a pleasant carbonation tempers the stinky, washed rinds and washes away the cloying milk fats. But it was especially friendly with Jasper Hill’s Winnimere whose particularly unctuous paste benefited from the beers palate cleansing effervescence. The “Bière d’Hougoumont” starred as every cheese’s best friend. Earthy, farmlike, and wood-aged, it took to the washed rind cheeses like a long-lost sibling, while its sweet maltiness paired exceptionally well with the tart goat cheese. Of particular note for the Hougoumont is its wood-aging. The addition of the oak and hard maple really set this beer apart – the spicy wood notes and subtle, almost whisky-like smoothness rounded out the pungency of the washed rind cheeses while also providing a delightful backdrop for their earthier elements. Defying the odds, “Hooligan” was even tamed by this beer. Having a wood-aged beer for future washed rind pairings is a must.
Acknowledgments: We would like to thank our friend Domenica Cerasaro for photographing the event.
Check out our newest Featured Brewers, Chris and Grace Tkach of Idle Hands Craft Ales, on our Featured Brewer page!
Missed our last featured brewer? Don’t worry, you can still read about Ben Howe and Enlightenment Ales in our Former Featured Artisans page.
Cheers!
Based in Gorham, ME and founded in 1998, Sebago Brewing Company produces several year-round brews, five seasonal beers, and a special “Single Batch Series”. We stumbled upon the brewpub’s Portland, ME location while seeking shelter from last Sunday’s decidedly damp and dreary display of weather and, of course, had to pop in for some suds. The restaurant was spacious and inviting, with a large bar greeting us upon our entry. We elected to sit at a high top near the bar, surveying the few patrons and general openness of the pub’s first section of tables; a more private section of large booths existed in a back section.
Beers were offered by the pint or, for those just wanting to survey the offerings, by tasting glass. A few moments with our server and we were well on our way to tasting a flight of Sebago’s current draft list.
From Left to Right, (Top) Saddleback Ale, Frye’s Leap Ale, Bass Ackwards Berryblue Ale, Hop Swap IPA, (Middle) Runabout Red Ale, (Bottom) Boathouse Brown Ale, Lake Trout Stout, Hefe-Weizen, Hop Swap IPA Cask
Sebago’s five year-round offerings (Saddleback Ale, Frye’s Leap Ale, Runabout Red, Boathouse Brown, and Lake Trout Stout) are stylistically sound. The American-style Saddleback Ale, brewed with Cascade, Mt. Hood, and Saaz hops, tiptoes the line between American ale and Czech lager. Ale yeast aside, it looks, feels, and tastes much like a steam beer. Sporting American 2-Row malt and the notable hints of light caramel, the Frye’s Leap Ale joins the ranks of countless American-style IPAs, but wears the label well. The brewpub’s maltier beers, the Runabout Red and Boathouse brown, both display a warm toastiness backed by just enough bitterness to slake a thirst. And why not drink beer and make a difference? For every case of Runabout Red sold, Sebago Brewing Co. donates $1 to the Maine Parkinson Society. Finally, roasted barley and acrid black patent malts round out Sebago’s fabulous five, adding a pleasant dry roastiness to the creamy and dark Lake Trout Stout.
A Bavarian Hefe-weizen, classically adorned with the slightly floral, slightly spicy Hallertau flavor and aroma, proudly displays a profile of banana and clove, both of which are well-known contributions of traditional hefe-weizen yeast strains. Perhaps one of the most interesting appearances of the afternoon was the Bass Ackwards Berryblue Ale. Hopped with the piney, resinous Northern Brewer, the Bass Ackwards is fermented alongside fresh Maine blueberries. Gone is the often-cloying blueberry character of fruit-flavored additives – In its place: A pleasant purplish hue, a flirtatiously faint blueberry aroma, and a clean, crisp, and dry blueberry finish. A great summer brew, the Bass Ackwards Berryblue would go incredibly well with some frozen yogurt, or a warm piece of Maine blueberry pie. Yum.
Released this year on July 20, Sebago’s Hop Swap is named after their process of brewing an American Ale base where the hop build changes annually. This year, Cascade, Centennial, and Citra hops create a clean and keenly citrusy bitterness, flavor, and aroma. A bright and fresh American ale, the Hop Swap is a great example of the craft beer initiative’s propensity for experimenting with its products. The Hop Swap is also available as a cask offering. The mellowness of the cask, or “real”, ale contrasts the crispness of the IPA’s hop build. Casked IPAs have always been a high note on my list – the creamy richness, natural carbonation, and cellar-esque serving temperature often subdues a hop barrage by just enough, thereby allowing more of a beer’s complexities to take the stage.
As the adage goes, variety is the spice of life, and Sebago covers the spectrum well. So the next time you’re in Portland (or Gorham, or Kennebunk, or Scarborough – so many choices!), stop by Sebago Brewing Company and try a flight for yourself. Grab a bite to eat, too. We didn’t get a chance to chow down, but I must say, the Haddock New England and Bacon and Lobster Mac ‘n’ Cheese sound awesome! Much of the menu includes regional ingredients, and there’s a gluten free menu, as well.
Cheers! and Bon Appétit!
“Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public.” Henry Louis Mencken
Greg Koch, the outspoken co-founder of San Diego based Stone Brewing Company, disagrees. In a recent interview with TheLipTV Greg offered some interesting insights into his company, taste appreciation, and the nature of craftsmanship. In the interview he notes, “I have this really odd ball theory, and forgive me if I give anybody out there too much credit, but I think the American public, when faced with great options, will make great choices.” If the success of Stone Brewing Co. and the craft movement more generally is any indication, Greg just might be right.
Greg’s taste “awakening” came twenty five years ago over a glass of Anchor steam beer. He recalls, “the time was 1987, the location downtown Los Angeles, Al’s bar…they had six beers on tap and because I was a lowly college student, I had to buy the large one, you know, because the price per ounce was better. But it would warm up, because I wasn’t a big chugger… and I discovered Anchor Steam was the only one that just didn’t taste like hell after is warmed up.”
He continues, “I thought beer was just that other stuff… and honestly I was pissed off. I was pissed off because I realized that all the previous beer drinking years of mine had been stolen by the lies of the man telling me that all that other stuff was beer. But now I knew better!”
If there’s one thing Greg hates, it’s being lied to. And it was because of this that he was inclined towards the honesty and integrity acquired through craftsmanship. “I like being shown the acme of something, the highest possible example,” he notes. “The highest compliment someone can pay me is to say ‘you ruined me, now I can’t buy the cheap stuff.’” Commodity beer is sold by marketing, veiled by appeals to the emotions. “Marketing is used to convince us to do the things we wouldn’t otherwise be inclined to do.” So in his typical brash way, for “ruining” those who drink his beer, Greg offers his apologies. “Sorry…but you’re welcome.”
His goal is “to produce something worth sitting back with, and enjoying on the sensory level.” It is in this way, in an interesting inversion of enlightenment era rational which still pervades Western societies, that Greg suggests we come to truly know that which we consume. “There’s nothing more honest than that.”
Greg agrees with the definition of “craft” outlined by the Brewer’s Association. A “craft” brewery should be “small, independent, and traditional.” But he argues that there’s something more fundamental to craftsmanship than meeting specified production criteria. He suggests that craftsmanship is, in the end, a commitment to quality. Stone, he notes, is a philosophy based company which operates by an informal code of ethics that can be distilled down to two words: “Be Amazing.” It’s by sticking to this standard that Stone has been able to grow, recently opening an off-site brew pub and with plans for a hotel and a European bier garden in the works, without fear of losing its “craft” status. “So what if it’s more expensive, if it takes more time, if it takes more effort.” “If it’s the more ‘amazing’ decision,” he urges, “then that’s what we do.” It’s as simple as that.
The symbolic gargoyle which has become synonymous with Stone Brewing Co. was inspired by a similar commitment. With the logo Greg wanted to do two things: to indicate through strong imagery that at Stone they were making beers outside of the norm; and to play on the mythology of the Gargoyle’s role as protector. The Stone gargoyle, Greg suggests, “wards off the evil spirits of beer…chemical preservation, cheap ingredients, and pasteurization.” In this sense the Stone gargoyle is apotropaic. It turns away misfortune. But unlike the mysterious nature of superstition or a lucky charm, the strength of the Stone gargoyle is tangible. Its defense is buttressed by a human force, empowered by passion, by engagement, and by commitment to an unwavering ideal. These are forces worth reckoning.
Perhaps, once more, cast from a courageous sling, a Stone will take down goliath.
Find the full interview here: Real Beer: Inside Stone Brewing Company
A view of the Festival and the historic Coach Barn at Shelbourne Farms
The Festival tent, on the shores of Lake Champlain
This past weekend I had the good fortune to attend the 4th annual Vermont Cheesemakers Festival. The sold out event brought together cheesemakers and a vast assortment of other artisans to the gleaming shores of Lake Champlain in western Vermont. For over four hours I indulged in cheese, beer, wine, spirits, chocolate and bread all made in the Green Mountain State. I had a great time catching up with a few old friends, namely Stan from Mt. Mansfield Creamery, Greg and Hannah from Blue Ledge Farm, and Michael from Twig Farm. Stan’s Inspiration, Greg’s Lake’s Edge, and Michael’s Goat Tomme are some of my very favorite cheeses.
I also met a number small artisans with whom I was previously unfamiliar but who offered some tremendously tasty cheese. Namely, I was blown away by the small externally ripened goats milk blue cheese that was being sampled by the folks at Westfield Farm. Also, Jill from Crowley Farm was offering tastes of their superb Crowley Clothbound. Crowley just so happens to be the oldest cheesemaking operation in Vermont. I hope to get out to their respective farms in the very near future, so be on the lookout for a more in-depth spotlight in our Featured Artisan section.
Another highlight of the day was the opportunity to attend an elementary cheesemaking course with Peter Dixon. For those of you who are unfamiliar with that name, he has tutored nearly every cheesemaker in Vermont, to some degree or another, in the dynamics of their craft. He is a veritable legend in the artisan cheese world. I found it especially satisfying to see so many individuals eager to learn the concepts of home cheesemaking. Perhaps I am an idealist, but I can’t help but hope that they recognize that there is nothing more rewarding than consuming something born from the labor of one’s own two hands.
Cheesemaking guru Peter Dixon…what a treat!
I always enjoy my excursions to Vermont. I find the rural countryside a breath of fresh air from Boston proper. On these picturesque shores, I found myself surrounded by individuals seeking a taste of the best artisanal products Vermont has to offer…hand delivered by the very hands that crafted them. This was consumption on a human scale and with a human face. In the midst of this sea of strangers, I confess I felt an overwhelming sense of kinship.
What is craft? What is artisanship? And how do they apply to food? Because the tendency of concepts such as craft and artisanship is to change over time, it remains important to contextualize contemporary working definitions. Food hasn’t always been a part of the craft movement. Only in the last several years have the concepts of “craft” and “artisanship” been applied to our ever-changing food system. However, perhaps the philosophy behind artisanal food is not really so different from the driving ideologies behind a traditional silversmith, or a master carpenter, or any number of conventional artisans.
Modern connotations of the craft movement appear to have surfaced in the mid-to-late 19th century and address the fledgling industrial period’s widespread philosophical dichotomy of human versus machine. This can be seen in the emergence of arts and crafts during the 1800s. Professor and critic Oscar Lovell Triggs writes that “[the craft movement] is on the one hand a movement of protest, a protest against the reign of ugliness in the modern factory, and on the other hand it is a movement of publication, its motive being the reiteration of the necessity of creative workmanship in all departments of handicraft and of the need of a high ideal of human life perfect on all its sides” (Triggs 1897). Similar chords rang throughout the western world, a romantic response to the increasing mechanization of labor and an appeal for autogestion, or workers’ self-management. In addition to romanticizing the beauty of artisanal production, the call to craftsmanship around the turn of the 20th century is also addressed on terms of scales of production (Veblen 1914). While beauty and creativity certainly continue to play important roles in contemporary perceptions of craft, the issue of scale arguably receives the most attention, as it remains intricately linked to market and production-driven definitions of craft, as well as a variety of post-consumer social movements and values. In this manner, craft operates both within the context of the contemporary capitalist market and outside of it.
If the concept of craft implies creativity, scale, and producer relations, then when applied to food it serves as the counterhegemonic foil to today’s agro-industrial food system. As studies in counterhegemony and social deviance can refer to any number of sociocultural fields, delineating the boundary of a specific field, and thus delineating the criteria for counterhegemony within that field, is increasingly important. In her paper entitled “Counterhegemony or Bourgeois Piggery? Food Politics and the Case of Foodshare”, Josée Johnston (2008) suggests that counterhegemonic food movements exhibit post-consumer values and attempt to “reclaim the commons”. Post-consumerism, the idea that a good or service can have value other than a price tag, lies in direct conflict with many aspects of the mainstream agro-industrial complex. Instead of supporting the hegemonic structure of market and financial value, post-consumers may place value on variety and taste, on producer-consumer relations, on sustainability and local supply chains, and on reduced consumption and waste. The post-consumer ideal ties directly into “reclaiming the commons”; that is, reorienting economies away from commoditization and profit-seeking. By focusing on consumer empowerment and agency, post-consumer values and the shift from profit-driven economies may result in more autonomous, equitable, and future-minded food-centered communities which are distinctly counterhegemonic to today’s agro-industrial sociopolitical structure.
The craft beer initiative thrives on post-consumer values. The loving attention given to Ben Howe’s (Enlightenment Ales) hand-turned bière-de-champagne, the community-driven stories of Chris and Grace Tkach at Idle Hands, and the gypsy-like reality of Dann and Martha Paquette’s Pretty Things all contribute to an image of passion and care. Beers bursting with flavors uncharacteristic of anything previously tasted beckon what can only be described as an ever-growing, ever-eager consumer clientele. People have begun to treat local craft beers as they once treated playing cards, trading hometown treasures for hard-to-find extra-regional offerings. The lines of communication between brewer, distributor, restaurant, and consumer, all opened by craft beer, are dialogues of appreciation, passion, and commensality, rather than complacency.
Perhaps the most compelling, and certainly the most surprising, side of the craft beer initiative is an overwhelming commitment to product, rather than profit. Will Meyer, brewmaster of Cambridge Brewing Company, outlines the notion well. “[Industrial brewers] never actually ask, ‘How can we make our beer better and more flavorful and more interesting?’ They’re just talking about packaging and marketing. I don’t know a single craft brewer who would ever make a beer with that being their prime directive. The prime directive of the craft brewer is making something that is flavorful, that’s interesting, that’s going to change the way people think”. Perhaps Will’s claim is true. Craft brewers do not advertise on television or radio. They rely on community involvement, on word of mouth, and the nods of dedicated publications and hobby beer reviewers. This commitment to product and community is omnipresent throughout craft beer culture, and is arguably an iconic attribute of the concept of “craft”, a dedication to choice, intimacy, and quality – a frame of mind rather than a finished product.
Johnston, Josée, and Shyon Baumann. Foodies: Democracy and Distinction in the Gourmet Foodscape. New York: Routledge, 2010.
Triggs, Oscar Lovell. “Arts and Crafts.” Brush and Pencil 1, no. 3 (December 1897): 47-48.
Veblen, Thorstein. The Instinct of Workmanship and the State of the Industrial Arts. New York: B.W. Huebsch, 1914.