the cheese chronicles

The Wedge, Portland celebrates cheese this weekend!

2009-10-02T08:25:00.001-07:00

THE WEDGE

If you should be near Portland, Oregon tomorrow, Saturday, October 3rd, 2009, perhaps you might want to head over to the Green Dragon Pub at SE 9th and Hawthorn. Why? It is time for The Wedge, a celebration of cheese from all over the Northwest, and a couple from Northern California.

Jim and I will be there representing Silver Falls Creamery. Please stop by and say hello. I'd love to see some friendly faces.

There will be lots of cheese to taste, beer to drink, other food to sample, as well as some cheese-centric seminars to enlighten you. Plus you can buy some cheese from some of the best cheesemakers in the country.

Cost: A mere $5. Or you can bring a can of food to donate to the Oregon Food Bank. Such a deal! Bring the kids!

Where: 928 SE 9th Ave. in Portland, Oregon in front of the Green Dragon Pub (Google Map here)

When: From 10:00am - 4:00pm, Saturday, October 3rd, 2009.

Lots more info about it is on the Pacific Northwest Cheese Project Blog.

Should be fun!

More memories of Adrianne

2009-09-12T09:41:00.000-07:00

A video of my mother, Adrianne Marcus reading her poem "The Resurrection of Trotsky" in Ventura, CA appears on YouTube.

The Dublin Writers Workshop has a few of Adrianne's poems on their online magazine Electric Acorn 10

The Absinthe Literary Review from Summer 2001.

From her book, Magritte's Stones:

La Legende des Siecles
A stone table has less thought than an ordinary (wood) table. —Rene Magritte

A chair on a chair. And no table in sight. This is the meal
Of the uneaten. We are waiting for the table to be set, for
The roast to release its hearty juices, for the vegetables to
Shine in all their oranges and reds. There are dark shadows
On the legs of the chair. Perhaps the cat is waiting there
For scraps. And at each corner of the table, a dog lies,
Perfectly still, looking up at its owners. Now there are four dogs.
Now there are three, but the absent one is always there, patient,
Unspeaking, and the owners who are owned themselves
Smile at the corner, and wait for the meal to end.

Adrianne Marcus

Adrianne Maris Marcus

2009-09-09T07:35:00.000-07:00

Photo: Adrianne Marcus in Finland, Sept. 2008

My mother passed away early this morning. At 12:38am, to be exact. She died peacefully, her chest rising and falling, gradually becoming more of an afterthought, until she breathed no more. The cell phone by my bed woke me up as the doctor called to give me the news. She apologized and said words of condolence as I listened to what she had to say. I replied with words coming out of my numb mouth. There wasn't much left to say.

I got up, Jim and I got dressed and went upstairs to tell the rest of the family. Aunt Judy was first. I pushed open the door to my old bedroom and she was up in an instant. I began to tell her but she already knew what I had to say as soon as I knocked on her door. Alix, Ian's daughter was the next one to wake up. She broke the news to Ian. I called my sisters, Shelby and Stacey. We went to the hospital to say goodbye. She obviously wanted to spare us the heartache of being there at the moment of her passing, but we saw her shortly afterwards. She was so still, so quiet. We wiped our tears on Kaiser's Kleenex, more like sandpaper. We left her an hour later. As we were walking out of the hospital, a young couple were being escorted inside. They were having a baby. The woman looked apprehensive, not knowing quite what to expect. Her husband was nervous and elated, carrying their bag as she was wheeled off to the third floor. I looked at my family and we laughed. There is balance in the world. The circle of life keeps on turning. Mom's left us, and a new life is on its way.

Her death wasn't unexpected, just extremely painful for me to witness and sad. I was there for her, giving her my strength so that she could fight this disease and come home. I was there for her, so that she didn't have to worry about Ian, my stepdad, who has his own medical issues. I was there for her so that she could relax and try to focus on healing. I promised her I'd take care of her dogs. She would do the same for me. She was fierce and someone you wanted to have on your side. She was the strongest woman I've ever known. This is why I cannot believe she could be gone. So quiet. So beautiful, looking like she was truly at peace, having finally won her last fight.

She had ovarian cancer which led her to get a hysterectomy. Complications gave her one setback after another. Her body was weakened by over two years of malnourishment. She had lost her appetite. This is a woman who lived to eat. She loved food and the enjoyment of cooking and sharing a meal with friends. We knew something was wrong. She knew something wasn't right for over a year. Her diabetes, congestive heart failure and irregular heartbeat all added dimensions to her complex case and she didn't have the strength to overcome her numerous problems.

My mom and I were very close. She drove me crazy at times, but I loved her just the same. She would pick up the phone and call me at least once a day. "I just wanted to see how you are," she'd say. She's never say who was calling, she'd just launch into her thought as soon as you answered the phone. She just wanted to hear my voice.

She had a tremendous passion for everything that interested her. She loved her writing, her poetry, a good meal, and her dogs. She surrounded herself with intelligent people, loving a good discussion about art, music, or books. Her insatiable curiosity lead her to travel across the country and around the world seeking the hidden pleasures of local diners, hand crafted chocolates, and hand-blown ornamental glass birds. If you had the honor of being her friend, she'd give you anything you could ever want or need. It made her happy, knowing that she could take care of you. She had a huge heart.

She satisfied her curiosity for the world around her by writing about it. She was published in newspapers and magazines such as The San Francisco Chronicle, Food & Wine, Town & Country, Parade Magazine, and Travel and Leisure. She also published three books, "The Chocolate Bible," "The Photojournalist: Mark & Leibovitz," and "Carrion House World of Gifts." There are works of unpublished fiction sitting in boxes in her workroom. "Morrigan's Crow" was a contemporary fantasy novel set in Ireland. "Chefs," was a scathing look at the world of celebrity chefs and the food world.

She was a food and travel journalist by trade but her true love was poetry, having published over 400 poems. She was an amazing poet who knew how to stitch words together in such a way that each word tugged at the other words, line after line carried you into the raw emotions that she wanted to explore. She would often reduce an audience to tears. She published many books of poetry such as "Magritte's Stones, " "Child of Earthquake Country," "The Moon is a Marrying Eye," and "The Resurrection of Trotsky." To read some of her poetry, you can find it at her website: Double M Sighthounds.

For the last few years she turned her attention to her dogs, Silken Windhounds and Borzois. She had seven of them. She became involved in the dog world, building friendships with in the dog breeding and lure coursing community.

I love my mother. I cannot imagine life without her. I know I she was proud of all that I've done. She could not wait to try my own cheese. I will not disappoint her. She was 74.

Here is the poem that my mother wrote for our wedding.

Wedding Poem
For Sarah and Jim, May 2, 1999

Here, in this season of flowers, your faces bloom
With love. This, your beginning, is a journey of roses,
Without thorns. The mutual air is filled with the sweet
Scent of blossoms, the perfume spilling out into
Each room where you are, pledging love, a lifetime
Together. All those delicate promises, pledges of spring.

Soon it will be summer. In that time, your faces will
Alter under the warm sun. Eating the fruits of the ripe
Nectarine, peaches, you will offer each other a taste,
A sharing. Your mouths will be honey and cinnamon as
You learn to invent delights
In more ways than you ever thought possible.

When autumn comes, you will change again, and there
Will be days when thorns and small hurts
May seem more important than they really are.
As the leaves turn, remember the blaze of color
Yellow and red, the amber fire that needs to be
Fed in order to continue to burn.

Speak to each other, let no night fall on
Sadness; remember to say I love you before
The day closes. Each morning is both a
Closing of time and a beginning of another.
Take nothing for granted.

When winter arrives, with its grey, dormant season.
Remember the bare branches are only
Illusion. Deep inside the pruned limbs, buds are
Dreaming their forms, taking the sweet shape of roses.
Wait for spring; and you will taste these blooms again,
Like love, with lavish familiarity.

Adrianne Marcus

Cat's out of the bag

2009-06-09T09:37:00.000-07:00

I've been mighty silent for a while. I've been talking to some folks about working together. Just didn't want to reveal too much while I was in sensitive negotiations. I think I can talk about things more freely now.

I has always been hard for me to keep a secret for too long and the cat's outta the bag, now. Briar Rose Creamery just got it's first mention in the online version of the Oregonian, Portland's morning paper. Woo hoo! Last Wednesday, I participated in an event called Oregon Cheese Stories sponsored by Oregon State University's Food Innovation Center. Cheesemakers got to tell their stories to cheeseshop owners, distributors, and food writers. I went with Silver Falls Creamery to reveal my new partnership with them and our plans for the future. We also got to talk to lots of folks about our cheese, let them try it, and hopefully get them to order it.

Photo: Cheese tasting at the Food Innovation Center.

What am I doing with Silver Falls Creamery? If things continue along this merry path, this summer I will begin to make cheese with Shawn, the herdsman, cheesemaker, teacher, and father of four youngsters. He's a very busy guy with hardly enough time to breathe, let alone make cheese. I'm going to drive to Stayton a few days a week to make cheese. If you are eager to try some pretty tasty fresh goat cheese, Jim and I are currently selling Silver Falls Creamery chevre at the McMinnville Farmer's Marke t every Thursday afternoon. Stop by and say hi!

Photo: Shawn milks a doe at Silver Falls Creamery.

While all this partnering is happening, we'll be building out our creamery on our property. Once the structure is complete, I will make cheese in Dundee. Briar Rose Creamery will produce aged cheeses, Silver Falls will have fresh chevre. Both will be made here. At least that's the plan right now.

We've found our milk supplier! Plus I've been approached by a gentleman in Clackamas County who is building a goat dairy and want to sell his milk to me. There have even been conversations with another person who has a flock of dairy sheep. Keep 'em coming!

I am amazed, thrilled, and grateful with the way things are really falling into place. I'm really living the dream! Please don't pinch me, I don't want to wake up.

Like a fine cuppa coffee

2009-03-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Photo: I get to ham it up with Ig Vella at Vella Cheese Company

Lots of stuff percolating around here. Not much time to blog about it.

My bad! The Sonoma Cheese Conference went really well. Got to see lots of friends and make some new ones. Both good things in my estimation. My panel went off really well. Three of us got to talk about blogging basics and how a blog can be a wonderful dynamic form of writing. I had my fill of excellent cheeses from across the country and some great wines and beers were served as well. It is a nice, intimate gathering of cheese professionals. A highlight for me was going to the Vella Cheese Company with fellow Oregonians Pat Morford and her daughter Astraea from River's Edge Chevre, and Tami Parr of the Pacific Northwest Cheese Project. I bought some extra aged Dry Jack from Ig Vella himself. It is a nice excuse to spend a few days in the beautiful town of Sonoma.

Photo: a princess cake.

I did manage to visit my sister in Santa Rosa. Brought her a piece of Princess Cake for her birthday. Scandia Bakery on Napa Street next to the Sonoma Market that makes an excellent Princess Cake. It is a family tradition. Must have this sweet cake with layers of cake, custard, cream, and raspberry jam smothered with green marzipan frosting. Heaven! I wish I could have taken more time to visit more friends. It will have to wait for another trip back to the Bay Area.

This weekend we're off to the Oregon Cheese Festival. It is held in the parking lot at Rogue Creamery in Central Point, Oregon. It should be about a four to five hour drive from here. It is pretty far south, practically in California. The sun is out and the rain might hold off until Saturday or Sunday so I hope the drive is easy.

When the sun shines, Oregon's natural beauty is breathtaking. The locals perk up, too. Yesterday I was driving back home, headed north on Wallace Road a.k.a. Highway 221 from Salem. The rural highway connects Dayton, just south of Dundee, to Salem and cuts through farmland and tiny hamlets like Lincoln and Unionvale. The Eola Hills and the red hills of Dundee rise gracefully up from the floor of the Willamette Valley to the west and off in the distance are the snow capped Cascades to the east. It was a cloudless sky and the sun was warming the fertile earth all around me as I sped along past countless farms and semi-dormant fields. The grass alongside the road is bright green with fresh spring growth. A few of the trees are starting to show the early signs of bud break, with a green glow tracing through their naked branches. Spring is breathing down upon this patch of earth. It was a great 50 minute drive home. Must try to remember to take some photographs of this stuff. My words cannot capture the beauty that surrounds me.

Photo: Jim holds a chick.

Speaking of signs of spring, we have chicks! Five of them. So cute. Araucanas, the kind that lay green and blue tinted eggs. Sweet little birds that will grow up to be nice egg layers. They're a little over a week old.

Jim has completed three raised beds for our veggie garden. Now we need to fill them with dirt and we'll be off to the races. Or we'll be ready to plant lettuce, carrots, leeks, cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, cilantro, basil, and other herbs.

In other news, I've posted an ad on Craigslist looking for cheesemaking equipment. Got some pretty interesting responses to it. We'll see what happens! It really feels like things are starting to gain momentum and move forward. We filed for building permits with the county planning department and I'm going over the plans with our contractor. Groundbreaking may happen sooner rather than later.

Whew! First thing's first. Gotta get ready to drive to Central Point.

Come and celebrate cheese!

2009-02-10T13:34:00.000-08:00

Feeling like eating lots of cheese? Want to learn about how it is made? Fascinated by dairy goats? Want to have more inspiration in the kitchen with your cheese? I bet there's a festival or conference coming up that might be of interest.

I've already mentioned the Sonoma Valley Cheese Conference. I'm very excited to be on a panel. Anything you'd like me to talk about? The focus is on blogging and I'm open to ideas and suggestions. February 21-24th are the dates. It starts off with a gathering at the Cheese School of San Francisco from 5pm - 8pm on Saturday the 21st of this month. For $25 you get to eat some exquisite cheese from some of my favorite producers and wash it down with some great wines and beer. The party moves to Sonoma on Sunday where you can eat more cheese, drink more beer and wine and meet more cheesemakers. Monday and Tuesday is the working part of the conference. Panels, guided tastings, workshops, and great networking opportunities. See Sheana's website if you want ticket information.

If that's not enough to satisfy you, there's the Fourth Annual Oregon Cheese Festival happening in March. Head to Central Point, home of Rogue Creamery on Saturday, March 15th. It is sponsored by the Oregon Cheese Guild and features my friends and neighbors and some damn fine cheese. I hope to make it this year. The cost is quite affordable and open to the public. $5 for cheese tastings and demos, $5 for wine. Wow! There's also a dinner in Ashland for $70 on Friday night. I'm checking my calendar right now.

In Petaluma, there's another cheese festival in March. California's Artisan Cheese Festival is happening March 20th-23rd. This is a big cheese appreciation event. There will be a marketplace, chef's demos, and seminars. The California Artisan Cheese Guild is playing a major role in the festival this year.

Looking ahead: May will feature the Seattle Cheese Festival May 16 & 17th at Pike Place Market. The American Cheese Society Conference will be in Austin, TX this year August 5th - 8th. Woo hoo! Good beer, good barbecue, and good cheese. Works for me!

I can't go to them all, but I'll try to hit a few of them. I've got some building about to commence around here. My $$$ will be ear-marked for other cheese endevors, namely our business. I can't say when ground breaking will be, but I'll looking at weeks rather than months at this point. This is BIG news!!!

There's no place like home

2009-02-10T12:04:00.000-08:00

Photo: View of the Sunset District, Golden Gate Park, and Mt. Tamalpais.

I really miss the cultural diversity of the Bay Area. Why? Because most of my life seems to center around eating. I love the variety of cuisines that are available in and around San Francisco. We used to live in a neighborhood that was culturally mixed. The fringe benefit of this melting pot is the fact that I had lots of options when I went grocery shopping. When I craved good olives, I went to the Parkside Farmer's Market on Taraval. Their olive selection and feta selection cannot be beat. They used to be self serve, but now they tub them for you. I guess too many folks were grazing. Parkside also had the best milk prices and a great selection of fruits and veggies. I loved browsing through their aisles looking at the different spices, canned eggplant, and olive oils. The family that owns it is from Jordan, so I could find lots of middle eastern items without going far from home.

I often shopped in the central part of the Sunset District. This area is an eclectic mix of Asian, Eastern European, Irish, and all other ethnic groups that call San Francisco home. Parking was a nightmare in the area, and the stretch of Irving between 19th Ave and 26th Ave was/is always congested. Too many cars trying to skirt around double parked cars and lots of pedestrians. This is where I did a lot of my grocery shopping. I'd often park along Lincoln, next to Golden Gate Park and walk over one block to do my shopping. I loved looking at the fish swimming in tanks waiting to become someone's supper. Sunset Super, an Asian market, often had a good price on live Maine lobster, so I grab a pair for dinner if they were less that $7/pound.

As a treat I'd often grab a bubble tea at one of several local bubble tea outlets. Bubble tea, tapicoa drink, boba drinks, all the same thing and all tasty if they're fresh. My favorite was the Double Rainbow Ice Cream Parlor, but they went out of business and were replaced by an Asian chain called Quickly. Inferior bubble tea IMO. I'll still get bubble tea from Wonderful Foods Company. Or if I was on Clement Street, there's a candy shop across from my fave book store, Green Apple Books that makes great bubble tea (forgot the name.) Oh bubble tea. I love those tapioca pearl balls swimming in a milky tea bath. The texture isn't for everyone. My eldest sister has lived in Hong Kong and all over southeast Asia. She can't stand the drink. I love it. My favorite flavors are Green Tea with Milk at Tapioca Pearls and Mango Tea with Tapioca Pearls. I don't go for the jelly cubes or other options.

What do I do now that I'm living in rural splendor? I've gotta get into my car and drive. I've been slowly exploring my options around here and in Portland. Harder to find, I must admit. I'm looking for good Indian markets, Asian markets, and Middle Eastern markets. I love the Barbur World Foods in southwest Portland. They make pita bread to order! Heavenly. I'm still looking for a good Indian market.

Then there's H Mart. Shortly after we moved here, a huge Asian grocery store opened up in Tigard. This made all of the local papers. There was a lot of TV coverage, too. This store makes me feel right at home. It is a Korean chain based out of New Jersey. They cater to many styles of Asian cuisine. There's a huge bakery, sushi counter, noodle bar, and kim chi bar that takes up the front third of the store. They've got a great fish counter (yay!) and there's an entire aisle devoted to soy sauce, fish sauce and assorted high sodium delights. One section featured Asian housewares. I can replace my miso soup bowls here. They had special refrigerators aimed at Koreans. I've never seen a fridge that looks like a chest freezer with a button on it that says "ferment." Ferment? Oh! It is a kim chi fridge, I guess. Fancy!

I felt like I was back in San Francisco except that everyone was very polite and the place wasn't crowded. They even had a bubble tea bar! Now, when I feel homesick, I can jump in the car and wander through the aisles at H Mart. I'm not homesick as much as I used to be. I guess I'm getting used to this place. The stuff I used to think was weird and strange seems more normal now.

Also want to find a good place for dim sum. I'm told to head for the border. The Canadian border. The closest dim sum of quality is in Vancouver. If you know of anything closer, like in Portland, please let me know!

Sonoma Valley Cheese Conference, a panelist, and a cheese

2009-02-05T00:40:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Gentlemen and children of all ages! We have achieved a milestone. The cheese is ready to be eaten!!

This cheese was born on Halloween 2008. I just cut into it on January 4th.

I just cut the second one on Feb. 1st.

I'm a very proud cheesemaker. These wheels turned out great! Good texture. Good moisture. Good flavor. The current wheel is better than the first. Yay!

If you want to try some of this fine cheese, you might have to stop by and say please.

If you happen to be around the town of Sonoma from Feb. 22 - Feb. 24, you'll find me at the Sonoma Valley Cheese Conference. Stop by and say hello! If you're lucky, I might let you try some of my cheese.

Even better than just eating my cheese, I'm on a panel. I get to discuss the finer points of blogging about cheese. Come and ask questions. Feel free to heckle, I'll only blog about you.

I attended the Sonoma Valley Cheese Conference last year and loved it. It is like a mini American Cheese Society conference with informative workshops, discussion, great networking opportunities, and a great gathering of cheese professionals. I love the town of Sonoma, so this is an added bonus. My friend Sheana Davis is the organizer. She pours her heart into making this happen and she does a great job. There is always lots of cheese, plenty of local beers, and a nice selection of wine to be consumed. Not a bad way to spend a few days. I hope the weather is nice and warm. I could use some more sunshine. Please find me and say hello.

Here's a brief description from the website:

The 7th annual Sonoma Valley Cheese Conference. Hosted by Sheana Davis & Ig Vella. Guest Keynote Speakers include Rob Kaufelt, Murray’s Cheese Shop, New York, Sid Cook, Carr Valley Cheese, Wisconsin, Petra Cooper, 5th Town Artisan Cheese Company, Ontario. Speaker Coordinator Gordon Edgar, Rainbow Grocery Cooperative. Conference Receptions Host, Rainbow Grocery, Cheese Plus and Bi Rite Market. Advisory Committee includes Ig Vella, Gordon Edgar, Sid Cook, Judy Creighton, Dee Harley, Harley Farm; Ray Bair, Cheese Plus; Sam Mogannam, Bi Rite, Mark Todd, The Cheese Dude. A very special Sonoma Dairy and Vineyard Tour, hosted by Levoroni Dairy & Vineyards. The Conference will be held at Sonoma Valley Inn & Conference Center.

A fine, three month old aged goat cheese. Semi-firm. Made in Dundee, Oregon.

Goo Goo Muck

2009-02-04T23:14:00.000-08:00

Photo: Steve Mace from The Untamed Youth on bass, Dexter Romweber from the Flat Duo Jets, guitar, and Joel Trueblood from The Untamed Youth on drums. April 1990.

Lux Interior died today. Sad. I always liked The Cramps. They put on a great live show. Spent a few Halloweens in their company. I even took my mom to see them while I was in college. She was visiting me and the Cramps were playing Springfest, an annual event sponsored by my old college radio station, KCOU. As general manager of the station, I had some duties to perform so I set my mom at a reserved table in the front of the balcony of the Blue Note and I went off to make sure things were running smoothly. It was a phenomenal show. Local surf band, The Untamed Youth opened the show. Then the Flat Duo Jets tore things up and the Cramps wrapped up the evening in fine style. I think Mom enjoyed the show. Lux Interior sweated profusely and did his usual striptease act, and performed most of the show in his shiny, black leather underwear. Poison Ivy was her usual cool-as-a-cucumber self. Nothing like an evening of raunchy rockabilly, and trashy rock and roll to make a girl feel good. Mom still talks about that show.

Over it.

2008-12-22T17:20:00.000-08:00

Photo: Jim clears the driveway of fallen branches as we try to leave home in December.

Here is a post I wrote around Christmas time when we were snowed out of our house. We got between 2.5 - 3 feet of snow during this two week "snow event." Not only could we not get out, once we did, we could not get back in.

--------------------------------------

We're refugees at the moment. It has snowed every day for a week. Each day we'd get a little more snow, and a little more snow. Then the real storm hit. It dumped a ton of snow. Then the freezing rain moved in. It dumped a nice 1/2 inch layer of ice on top of the 18 inches of pre-existing snow. Then it snowed some more. O.K. Fine. Be that way.

Everything was icy. The trees, the deck, the driveway and the powerlines. What is this? I thought I was living in Oregon? This is more like the weather I experienced in Columbia, Missouri, during my college years. Alistair, our spirited dog, kept breaking through the surface of the ice with a big fracturing crunch. Then he was up to his shoulders in snow. He'd bound along, looking for the fun powdery stuff that was there the day before. I knew there was a good chance we might lose power. No power = no well water and no heat. I filled the bathtub with water. I pulled out pitchers and buckets and filled those, too. I've got a propane powered portable stove. I can cook. As it turns out, I didn't need to.

We lost power at 4:00 am. The cool house became a cold house. The well is powered by an electric pump. No water? We don't have a woodstove and our furnace is electric. No heat. The driveway is covered in a thick blanket of ice and snow. Our previous tracks are barely visible beneath the fresh layer of snow and ice that accumulated overnight. The driveway was barely manageable before the last dumping of snow. With this latest snowfall and ice storm, I was getting nervous and afraid we might get snowbound.

We decided we had to leave while we still could. We had no power and we could bring the dog and stay at Jim's uncle's place 12 miles away in McMinnville. We gathered some warm clothes, packed essential items and got out the brand new chains to put on our four wheel drive pickup truck. After struggling for 20 minutes in the cold, the chains were on and we were ready to head out the door. The cab of the truck was pretty full with all of our luggage as well as the dog. No room for our three kitties in their carriers. We fed the cats and decided to leave them and come back later. There was a chance that the power might return within the next 24 hours and they'd be fine. Our house is well insulated, it was a cool 60 degrees inside so they won't freeze. We got the dog, grabbed our newly purchased snow shovel, and some food that we didn't want to spoil, and locked up the house. Ever so slowly, I negotiated our driveway. The tires crushed through the ice. You could hear the breaking of the sheet of frozen water underneath the car. We had to stop at the last part of the driveway. Some big branches had broken off of some of the overhanging trees, blocking our path. Jim hopped out and took care of things and I met him at the bottom. Fairview Drive, our road sees a fair amount of traffic on a normal day. Not this day. A few tracks from other intrepid travelers broke up the white expanse of road. A plow had gone through and made a big wall of snow that we had to push through in order to reach the road.

Most of Oregon isn't prepared for snowfall like this. I was shocked to see that Fairview was plowed. It was still covered in snow, just slightly less than our driveway. There isn't much the county can do when it comes to heavy snowfall. Every town is left to fend for themselves. Most of the towns just give up and pray for warmer weather.

Photo: This is Oregon?? Dayton intersection of Hwy 99W and Hwy 18.

We drove down through Dundee towards Highway 99W. There were a few folks out walking around, surveying their now snowbound surroundings. They waved as we crawled down the hill. The truck made it down just fine. A tree had fallen across 9th Street, turning the street into single wide track. The highway was slushy, but manageable.

We drove slowly, following a milk truck that was delivering a fresh load of milk to the Farmer's Cooperative Creamery in McMinnville. Those cows have to be milked no matter what the weather. No rest for the creamery staff. Yet another reason why I don't want milking animals. Please just bring me your milk so that I might transform it into cheese.

Photo: Deep ruts and footprints in the snow.

My cheese! I have a bunch of fresh chevre in the freezer, currently thawing. Chevre freezes just fine. Lots of moisture in there and if you freeze it right, you won't get crystals. Don't ever freeze aged cheese, please. My aged cheeses are maturing nicely, and should ride out the cold weather just fine in the unopened fridge/cave.

We pulled into McMinnville, called Mac by the locals. The stores were open, the parking lots were full. There was a long line of cars out in front of the Les Schwaab Tire Store. They spilled into the street. Folks looking to buy chains or get studded tires. It was sleeting at this point. We pulled onto the sidestreets and drove slowly, navigating our way across the deep ruts of ice and snow and finally arrived at Wayne and Linda's house. Wayne had been busy, shoveling his sidewalk clearing a path to the street. We arrived unscathed and offloaded our stuff, including a crock pot full of turkey fricassee. I hate showing up empty-handed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to keep up with the freezing rain, snow, and sleet. We walked the dog around the neighborhood. I worried about our cats. Dinner was great. Glad I could share the turkey dinner. We called it an early evening, exhausted from a very trying day.

Today we woke up to another 4-6 inches of snow. Great! Just what we need! More snow! I helped Wayne get a path clear down his driveway so he could get his car out. It took a while to get the ice and snow off of the truck, but we managed. The roads around the house are not plowed so getting around can be tricky, even with chains and 4WD.

After breakfast we got back in the truck and drove back to Dundee to see if our power was restored and check on the cats. The drive was scary. The road was barely plowed and at times you could barely make out where the road actually was. Everything was white, there was no sand or slushy bits to make our trail. It was slow going. In Dundee there were several trees down but they were no longer blocking the road. You could see all of the trees with their limbs hanging heavy with their burden of ice. Some were draped across the power lines, just moments away from unleashing more problems.

We managed to reach our driveway. It was buried in snow. I could sort of see where we had driven before, but I could see that there was a lot more snow on it now than when we had left. Not good. I put the truck in 4WD-low and set forth to have a go at our driveway. The first part is a steep incline. Then it levels out and swings through the hazelnut orchard, past our single-wide trailer palace, the shop and then swings up another steep slope up to the house. I figured if we could get up the first part, the last part would be the trickiest but we just might get through. We put the truck in gear and headed up the driveway. And got stuck. The tires began to spin, so I backed up a few feet and tried it again. We made it farther up the driveway before we got stuck again. Back a few feet, and forward again. It took three tries but we made it up to the orchard. What a sorry sight! All of the handsome trees were sagging with the weight of ice and snow. Their branches were brushing the surface of the snow. The car got stuck again. The snow is so deep that our front bumper was acting like a plow, pushing the snow ahead of us. Eventually the pile would get to high and we'd get stuck. Jim would get out, step through the knee high snow and shovel the pile away. Then we'd proceed. We finally came to a halt after sliding sideways on the last turn of the driveway before we reached the house. Close enough. We walked the rest of the way up to the house. The snow was over our knees. Not fun. We got the house open. It was still. No power. The cats were thrilled to see us. We fed them and started grabbing stuff for our long stay at our home away from home. More warm socks, more sweaters, long underwear, clothes, pet food, and the cats. We got them into their carriers and hauled everything and everyone back to the waiting truck.

I then had to retrace our path, driving in reverse since I could not turn around. Not easy, but I managed to get us back down the driveway and onto the road. The drive back to McMinnville was slow, but we were happy that everyone was safe. This is going to be a very different Christmas.

Photo: Jim and Alistair take refuge at Wayne and Linda's in McMinnville, Oregon.

The power company didn't believe that our power was out. I got a call from a lineman. He was standing at the bottom of our driveway trying to figure out why we didn't have power. He saw lights on at our neighbors and could hear the pumping station making noise. Jim talk to him and said that everyone has generators. If you hear noise, that must be a generator because the pumping station is normally silent. The lineman decided to investigate instead of looking for the downed power line that was on the corner of Fox Lane and Fairview Drive. He drove up our driveway and got stuck three times. He called us to apologize for tearing up our gravel road, but he couldn't move. Since we couldn't get there to help, we call in some help. Our neighbor, Ray has a big pickup truck with high clearance. He's also without power, so he was happy to hear that there was a lineman nearby stuck in the snow. He pulled the guy out. Ray took the lineman to the broken power line and we all had power again. A miracle!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Too bad we had to wait five more days before we could get up the driveway. We finally hired someone to plow our drive. Sure enough, the lineman really did a number on our gravel. He didn't know how to drive in snow and just let the tires keep spinning until he dug a huge hole. I guess all of those years in Missouri taught me how to handle a car in wintery conditions. I still managed to slip and slide, but we never got totally stuck.

Now on our shopping list: wood stove and a generator.

Let it snow!

2008-12-14T16:14:00.000-08:00

They say it doesn't happen much around here. Yet here it is. We're in the midst of a snow storm. Well, alright, maybe not a storm, but we've got some heavy snow showers and it is 27 degrees Fahrenheit and the temperature falling. The weather forecast is for more of the same and colder weather for the next week. Brrrr.

This is exciting stuff for those of us who grew up in California. It rarely snowed in San Francisco, maybe once every seven years. The snow never stayed around.

Here in the northwestern edge of the Willamette Valley, they get some good frost, and snow on the hills. Supposedly we see a dusting a couple of times a year. Well, this is our first year here, and we've got more than a dusting.

Enjoy the slide show.

View Album

Get your own

Cheesemaking at Oregon State University

2008-11-18T13:04:00.000-08:00

Photo: OSU Pilot Plant.

Last month Jim and I spent a few days in Corvallis, Oregon, home of Oregon State University. We signed up for a three day cheesemaking class held on campus in The Food Science Department at Wiegand Hall.

Wiegand Hall is named for Professor Ernest Wiegand. He is a professor that made a huge impact in the science of food preservation, specifically with cherries. Cherries grow really well here in Oregon. From 1925-1931 he developed a way to preserve them in brine, trying to keep them from getting too soft and mushy. Before that, canned cherries were a European import preserved in liqueur, tasty, but expensive and mushy. Wiegand's bit in history? He found that making a brin by adding calcium chloride, a form of salt also used in cheesemaking, his cherries stayed firm. No more alcohol needed and we could preserve our homegrown cherries. The maraschino cherry was perfected! And cocktails have been thankful ever since.

His fellow professors continued his work and developed ways to bleach the cherries, and make them any color in the rainbow, blue, green, white, or red. The red ones contain the same food dye (red dye #40) used in gum or according to this website, Dorito's. A portrait of Professor Wiegand graces the lobby of the Food Science building, greeting visitors. There is an article next to his portrait, explaining his notoriety.

The cheesemaking class: The class was lead by Lisbeth Goddik, an Associate Professor at OSU. She's the dairy processing specialist for OSU's extension service. She's the person that fields all of the cheesemaking questions. There were about 25 students from a wide variety of backgrounds. Some had dairies, one was a chef with a cooking school, there were families who had goats, there was a fellow cheese monger and blogger, and several of the dairy inspectors from the Oregon Department of Agriculture were attending the class, too. The format was split between classroom lecture and hands-on cheesemaking. The mornings were spent learning about the dairy industry, how cheesemaking works, how do we keep a clean environment, and what's going on in the regulatory world. The fun stuff happened in the pilot plant down the hall.

Photo: Students gather around the vat pasteurizer.

The pilot plant at OSU is a big working laboratory for food science. There are big tanks for brewing beer, a bottling line, incubators, kettles, vats, pasteurizers, lab tables and several sinks. Stainless steel pipes run throughout the building, carrying steam, milk, or water to where it is needed. There is another lab specifically for winemaking. They were working on some Pinot Noir while we were there.

Time for some cheesemaking. There were four cheese stations set up. We split up into groups to focus on one cheese, but we still could observe the other groups and see what was going on all around us. I worked on Havarti, Jim was on Team Camembert. My team's vat of milk took forever to set up. Don't know if it was the temperature of the room, if we added the wrong amount of rennet, or what the issue was, but we stood there waiting for our cheese to have a clean break for over an hour. It should have been around 30 minutes. But, the curd dictates when to cut, not the clock, so we waited and waited and waited. Finally we cut the curd, let the curd rest and began to stir. Havarti is a washed curd cheese, so we got to heat up water, drain some of the whey off, and added warm water back into the curds. Fun! Then we got to use a mult-form system to full the empty forms full of the knitting curds. Then came the flip with the fancy draining trays that OSU recently purchased from Servi Doryl.

Photo: C. van't Reit small pasteurizer at OSU

One of my favorite lectures was on Starter Cultures and their role in cheesemaking. This is a subject that I find fascinating and am beginning to get a better idea what they actually do in your cheese. Yes they acidify the milk, but they also affect flavor, texture, as well as control how it ripens down the road in the aging cave. The starter cultures develop enzymes that produce amino acids. The amino acids give us more flavor compounds and aromas. They can be buttery, nutty, toasty, fruity, etc. This is the stuff that makes me say "Yum!" when I eat a piece of cheese. Understanding bacterial cultures can help you predict what your final cheese will taste like and what texture it will have. The good cheesemaker is an artist coaxing the best flavor out of a cheese's potential. As many have told me, good cheese is made in the vat. If you start out with great potential, your final results will be that much better.

Photo: Tools for Queso Blanco.

We mixed things up the second day of cheesemaking. In the morning we all made Queso Blanco. This is a fresh, Mexican style cottage cheese made with whole milk. Quite easy to make, with quick results that we can eat in 90 minutes. It is acidified with buttermilk and set with junket, a tablet form of rennet also used in making pudding.

Photo: Fresh Queso Blanco.

We divided up into two groups. One group tried to make a drier cheese, the other wanted a moist cheese. It was good practice seeing how curd size, as well as the firmness of the curd mass at point of cutting will determine the amount of moisture left in the curd. The firmer the curd at the initial point of cutting, the softer the cheese, the smaller the size of the curd, the drier the cheese will be. These are all decisions made every time you make cheese.

Photo: Mary and Sasha work on Havarti.

We also got to switch cheeses in the Pilot Plant. Jim moved to Team Havarti and I went to Team Mozzarella. Jim became defacto team leader and got a lot of hands-on cheesemaking. Our Mozzarella didn't turn out. We used store bought milk and didn't add calcium chloride. The curd got over stirred and the curd never stretched. A waste! I was sad. I want to practice stretching mozzarella with someone who knows what they're doing.

Our evenings were spent socializing with fellow students. Jim and I went out to dinner at a brewpub with Sasha Davies of Cheese By Hand, and Professor Marc Bates formerly of Washington State University. Had a great time talking about living in Oregon, cheesemaking, and current events.

The second night we went to Evergreen, an Indian restaurant with Sasha and fellow students Pete and Cecil. More great conversations about what we all want to do, dairying, and what it takes to get going.

There are many reasons to continue to take cheesemaking classes. Not only do I continue to get new ideas and a better understanding of the process of cheesemaking, but I always meet some really nice people with similar interests. Now that I've been following this dream for a few years, I feel more comfortable asking questions and understanding the answers. I'll keep taking classes and working with others so long as there is someone to teach me. I am happy to show others what I've learned and maybe inspire them, too.

Photo: Goat cheese with green peppercorns from River's Edge Chevre.

We ate a lot of cheese. We had a sampling of cheddars from Tillamook. We also got a nice selection of goat cheeses from River's Edge Chevre. We also got to sample some cheeses from Europe. We were never hungry.

Photo: Brian of Oregon Gourmet Cheeses in his cave.

The final afternoon was a field trip to Oregon Gourmet Cheeses in Albany. Brian Richter graciously let our group come into his plant where we heard his story, try his cheese and pepper him with questions. The scale of his cheeseroom is modest. Not small, but efficient. He uses a 500 gallon milk tank as his vat. He makes both raw as well as pasteurized cheeses. His raw milk Sublimity is dense, like an alpine style cheese. The texture is well knit and it is chewy like a tootsie roll, but not sticky. He likes to add dried herbs like lavender and herbes des provence to some of his wheels. Like most cheesemakers, he'd love to have more aging room and is at capacity. I'd like to visit him again so I can ask more questions. Albany is about an hour away. This would be an easy repeat trip.

Makin' Cheese in the Kitchen

2008-10-31T12:09:00.000-07:00

Photo: Sarah cuts the curd.

Got a call from some friends that are building a dairy and creamery about 15 miles away. They had 10 gallons of goat milk that they couldn't use and were offering it to me. It thought about it for three seconds. Long enough to take inventory of our spare fridge. Do I have room for ten gallons of milk? You bet! Woo hoo! I jumped on the chance to grab some milk and make cheese.

I had to get my cultures, too. Luckily, there is a place on the way that sells cheese cultures as well as raw milk, eggs, and chicken. Kookoolan Farms is a great resource. They built their own chicken processing plant so that they could ensure that their chickens were treated humanely from hatching to slaughter. They are big cheerleaders for the consumption of raw milk. To make it easy, they provide the cheesemaking supplies to encourage folks to make cheese at home. Nice folks! I also mail ordered other cultures from the New England Cheesemaking Supply Company. I also like to stock up on stuff from Glengarry Cheesemaking from Canada.

Jim and I drove to Scott and Summer's place. In the fridge was the milk that they had promised. Two gallon milk cans and a bunch of half gallon jars filled with the goat's efforts. They milk 16 Nigerian Dwarf goats. I've never worked with the milk from this type of goat so this will be good experience for me. The goats are much smaller than the standard dairy breeds, about a third of the size. The give less milk but the milk is much richer. It is higher in butterfat as well as in yield (more solids held in suspension) as I soon found out.

We packed the milk in our coolers and rushed home to start the cheesemaking process. As we drove I was running over my recipes in my head. What to make? I want to make chevre so I can make a big batch of my chocolate chevre truffles. They freeze nicely so I can have them ready to give away for the holidays. I also want to make some raw milk, aged cheeses. Hmmmm.

We got home and transfered the milk into fridge in the garage. I pulled out my recipes and decided to go with the semi-firm aged goat cheese from Ticklemore. The first time I made it I dubbed it Sarahmore. This one will be different because I'm using fresh, raw milk from Nigerian Dwarf goats. Plus I don't have the same culture I used before. Kookoolan didn't have it, so I'm trying a different one and we'll see what happens.

Photo: Freshly hooped curd starting to knit into cheese in my fancy cheese molds.

Massive clean up of the kitchen took a while, so I didn't get the milk on the stove until 4:00. I use the double boiler method to heat three gallons of milk so I can ensure even heating and less chance of scorching. Gently heating means better cheese. Goat milk is very fragile. The more it is handled the more likely it will break down and add off flavors. Milk can get bruised! If it gets jostled around too much, the structure of the milk gets bruised and you get off flavors. Be nice to your milk and it will reward you in the end.

Slow heating means lots of time to get the molds cleaned, the sink scrubbed and everything sterilized. Gotta have a clean environment to make cheese. Lessens the chances of bad microorganisms entering the cheese. I want good food, not toxic sludge.

The milk heated to my target temperature and I added the culture. The ripening culture is freeze dried. When added to milk, the culture "wakes up" and begins to eat all of that tasty sugar a.k.a. lactose and makes the milk more acidic. A cheesemaker selects certain cultures for certain cheeses. If you want to make Monterey Jack, you want a culture that gives you a nice even texture without any eyes or holes. If you want to make something like an Havarti the cheesemaker will select a culture that produces a bit of gas and leaves small eyes in the cheese. Ecoli makes eyes that look weepy. Those weeping eyes must be crying because they can make you die. These are bacteria that have been selected by The Culture Houses of Europe because they produce consistent end results. These strains have been around for many years. It is only in the past century that these cultures have been isolated and replicated.

Some folks create their own starter with the naturally occurring strains in their milk and environment. Traditional English Farmstead Cheddar makers use their own starters to keep their cheddars tasting so good. Some have used the same mother culture for generations. If you ever eat sourdough bread from San Francisco you've experienced the same thing. A small amount of sourdough is held back after each batch to start the next day's bread. Remember kids, this stuff is alive!

Photo: Draining fresh goat cheese.

Got another pot on the stove with two more gallons of milk. This other vessel of milk will be pasteurized so I can make chevre. The pasteurized milk will be cultured and left to sit overnight in a warm room. In the morning, the milk is transformed into a solid curd mass that looks like two gallons of tofu. When I think it is firm enough, I gently ladle the curd into a cheesecloth lined colander. The ends of the cheesecloth are tied together and I hang it up to drain for several hours. When the cheese is drained and as dry as I like it, I'll take it down, add salt and enjoy my fresh chevre.

Back to the other pot. The culture is acidifying the milk and the rennet is added to firm things up. More waiting. My molds are clean and sterilized. My knife is ready to cut the curd. I keep checking the texture, looking for a clean break. This is the point at which the curds hold their shape, and a small puddle of greenish whey is released from the cut surface. It is ready. I take my knife and I begin cutting the curds. I use a firm, assertive motion, trying to keep my cuts straight. I cut one direction and then rotate the pot and cut in the other direction, at a angle. The objective is to cut cubes or diamond shaped blocks of curd of a similar size. Large cubes = soft cheese, small cube = firm cheese. I finish cutting and wait again. This is the healing time. The cut surfaces are all releasing whey and contracting. Waiting allows the surfaces to literally heal so that when I begin to stir, they will maintain integrity as well as continue to release whey. We want the whey to go away, but at a controlled rate.

Time to stir. I stir slowly at the beginning. The curds are very fragile at this point. I want them to gently bump into each other, but not clump together. Stirring will go on and on. I pull of part of the whey and continue to stir. I add fresh water back in to wash the curds. Washing the curds removes some of the lactose, and will make a chewier and sweeter cheese when the cheese is ripe in a few months. You gotta put a lot of investment in the beginning and won't know the results for months. This is why keeping good records is critical. If the cheese turns out really well, I want to be able to repeat what I did. If something goes wrong, I want to know why.

I can see that the milk from Nigerian Dwarf goats doesn't need as much rennet as "regular" goat milk. This batch is a bit firmer than I would like. Better reduce the rennet for the next batch. The milk is thicker, almost like sheep's milk. Higher yield, too. Amazing stuff.

Photo: New cheese after the third flip.

The curds have shrunk and are ready to go. Time to hoop! I've got my colanders ready to go, sitting on a cookie sheet over the sink. As fast as I can, I scoop all of the curds out and it the plastic forms. The curds are eager to mat. They're bonding to each other. They liquid that held them in suspension has now been removed and all they want to do is bind together. Putting them into a form like a colander or a traditional cheese mold helps give them a shape but also controls how quickly moisture is lost. In my case it seems to be losing moisture pretty fast. If I use a different form with different perforations, I'll get a different cheese because the moisture loss will change. Every little variable will make a big difference in the end result. This is one of my countless reasons cheesemaking fascinates me.

As soon as my colanders are filled, I flip them. The newly formed cheese needs to drain evenly, so flipping is essential. What was once in the bottom side of the cheese is now the top. A few minutes later I flip the cheese again. This process will be repeated over the course of a few hours. In the morning I'll flip them again and then I'll turn the cheeses ever day until they're ripe.

In order to free up my kitchen, I turned our laundry room into our curing room. The cheeses are set on racks over a clean and sanitized sink to drain and dry. The light is kept on so the room stays warm. This will encourage draining, too. My chevre bags are draining into the sink as well. I like this set up.

Photo: An aging wheel of cheese, two weeks old.

I repeated the process two days later, but this time all of my milk was pasteurized. We'll see how this will affect the aged cheeses. I don't know.

Now the wait. I made cheese on October 31st and November 2nd. They might be ready in January. I'm thinking February will be a better bet. The first batch of cheese is looking good, but a bit dry. Hmmmm. The second batch looks amazing. Funny, the better looking batch is made with pasteurized milk. We'll see what happens in a couple of months.

This cheese needs a name.

Coming attractions

2008-10-03T13:03:00.000-07:00

photo: deer in my garden in the morning.

Coming Attractions.

Our place seems to be a magnet for everything. Sure, squirrels love us. We've got 500+ filbert trees for their dining and hoarding pleasure. There is so much good food that trying to poison them or entice them with other treats like peanut butter doesn't work. Not that I'd ever try to kill a cute, little rat with a fluffy tail. And we're bad shots, so there's no point in trying to shoot the little buggers. Yes, we've got a Daisy air rifle. It is a pretty good one for us wimpy, city folks.

Can't get away from my liberal, anti-arms race past. Guns are a very effective tool that can kill people. Violent, unstable, crack-crazed, speed-fueled individuals wielding weapons of mass destruction kill people. Governments kill people. I'm pretty much a peacenik. I try to maintain a live and let live existence. My bloodthirst comes out on my dinner plate. Yes, I eat meat. I love a well marbled steak. I adore lamb. I am not opposed to eating something that might have been adorable when it was on the hoof. I try to buy meat that is local and raised in a sustainable manner. We've got a butchered lamb in our freezer that lived a very nice life a few miles away in a pasture at Figment Farm on Mineral Springs Road outside of Carlton, Oregon. I don't want to be the one to pull the trigger, but I'll butcher the beast if asked to do so. I can filet a fish like a pro! If you have to be a vegetarian to achieve enlightenment, I guess I've got a long way to go.

Not only do we attract squirrels, our place seems to be a haven for every critter that lives in the Red Hills of Dundee. We've got several deer that hang around, day and night. I've seen a doe with her teenage twins in our garden. There's a three prong buck that I've chased out down the driveway on several occasions. Since our gate broke, the deer have been enjoying our cosmos and lower limbs on our apple trees.

Our lawn is a haven for every burrowing creature that exists in the Pacific Northwest. We've got Willamette Valley Pocket Gophers, ground squirrels, chipmunks, voles, moles, and mice. The hawks and other predators can't keep up and our dog just likes to sniff the holes. I think we need an outdoor kitty.

Photo: Box Elder bug

And then there are the flying insects. Paperwasps, yellow jackets, honeybees, bumblebees, and hornets among the many flying bugs. Currently we're under siege from a swarm of box elder bugs. They're slow and like to cling to the screens and windows. They go where the sun is, so in the morning they're all over the front of the house. They're harmless and gross.

Photo: The western edge of the hazelnut orchard. Hazelnuts on the left. Douglas fir trees on the right.

Several days ago I spotted another creature in our orchard. I saw something dart across the driveway as I was driving up the hill towards our house. I pulled up slowly to where it was and visually traced its path into the orchard. Sitting several feet away, under the green canopy of hazelnut trees was a bobcat! It blended in perfectly with the dappled sunlight and shade. I could clearly see the tufts on its ears, the lack of tail and the feline face that was staring me down. It didn't seem to be afraid of me. Actually it seemed to be eager to stand its ground. Lots of fat squirrels to eat for dinner. I rolled down the window and watched it for a few seconds. I then said, "Good kitty! Eat them squirrels!" It just looked at me and looked away. I drove away slowly, happy that our place is so inviting to local wildlife of all stripes, spots, and shades.

Photo: squirrel and coyote habitat.

What else is hanging around our 12 acres in the Red Hills of Dundee? Coyotes! Two days ago, Jim and I had to take Alistair, our newly adopted English Springer Spaniel to the vet to get snipped. It was dawn as we cruised down the driveway, past the orchard. As we passed the broken gate, I see coyote emerge from the upper orchard, cross the driveway, and speed through the lower orchard, making a mad dash for the woods. Three more followed it. They were the size of small German shepherd dogs. Jim and I have seen mystery poop around the trees, especially on the west end of the orchard, near a tall stand of Douglas fir trees. This is a spot popular with the squirrels. Maybe they're looking for some tasty squirrels and field mice. I won't discourage that, but I'll keep the dog close. He doesn't wander, so I'm not too worried about him. The feral cats in the neighborhood might have to be on their toes.

The harvest is going on all around us. The vineyards are buzzing with activity and air cannons. Birds like to dine on ripe grapes. The cannons are going all day long, trying to scare away the flocks of hungry birds. Being surrounded by vineyards isn't so pretty this time of year. The cannons can be nerve shattering at times.

Photo: late afternoon Autumn light on our neighbor's vineyard, dry grass, and trees on the other side of the fence.

Our swarms of fearless hummingbirds are starting to diminish. They must be migrating south for the winter. The nectar stays in the feeder longer these days. The big leaf maples and the poison oak are turning pretty colors. Fall is here!

Make more friends, serve more cheese

2008-09-24T00:26:00.001-07:00

Help! I need to impress my friends and look like I know something about cheese! What should I put on a cheese plate?

Not to worry, my dear. Putting out a good cheese plate is easy. Let me be of service and help demystify at trip to the cheese counter, or (heaven forbid) a trip to the specialty cheese case in the grocery store.

First, shop around. Every cheese counter and grocery store will have a different selection of cheese. Some will be better than others. Locally owned stores might have a few more locally produced products. I always start looking there. Don't be shy about asking for help. See if the person in charge of the cheese counter is available. I love asking for help. I want to know what's in peak form today. If everything is in shrink wrap, I want to see what's freshly cut. Cheese is a living food! It begins to break down and lose flavor the moment it is cut. If it has been enveloped in plastic for a month, even breathable plastic, it won't be very tasty. When I prepare to serve a cheese, I like to take a knife or a cheese plane and scrape the cut surface of the cheese. This takes away the dead, plastic-y taste and gives you a fresh surface to enjoy.

See if the store will cut you a fresh piece of cheese. Or see it they’ll open a package so you can taste the cheese. Rainbow Grocery in San Francisco is happy to let you try before you buy. That way you'll know how a cheese tastes. If you buy an artisan cheese regularly, you might begin to taste the seasonal variations. There is a huge difference between Cowgirl Creamery's Mt. Tam made in the winter and a Mt. Tam produced in the summer. Eat more cheese and see for yourself!

How much to serve? It depends. Is this an appetizer course? Are other dishes being served? I figure an ounce of each cheese per person. Two ounces if it is the only thing being served.

Always serve aged cheeses at room temperature and each cheese should have its own knife or cheese plane.

When selecting cheeses for a party, I usually go for three or four cheeses. As a general rule of thumb, vary the milks and mix up the texures. Sometimes I'll go with a theme, like all cow's milk cheeses, or cheeses from Spain. But my favorite plate usually consists of a cow's milk cheese, a goat's milk cheese, and a sheep's milk cheese. If I'm feeling sporty, the fourth cheese will be either be a cheddar or a blue cheese.

For example, I might take a piece of Garrotxa, a Spanish goat cheese with a semi-soft, slightly chewy texture, match it with a buttery, French Triple Crème like Brillat-Savarin, and pick a sheep's milk cheese like Pecorino Foglie di Noce with walnut overtones. If I want to have the slam dunk crowd pleaser, I'd throw in a piece of Montgomery's Cheddar from Somerset, England. With this, I'd serve a full flavored honey; my favorite being a locally produced blackberry honey. A great cherry jam would work wonders, as well as some dried apricots and cranberries. Apple slices would be nice, too. I would serve everything with thin slices of a crusty, sweet, baguette and I'd call it complete.

Photo: Ticklemore Goat, aging to perfection.

Other suggestions: A cheese plate of the British Isles, a.k.a. the Neal's Yard Dairy cheese plate. Cow's milk: Trethowan's Gorwydd Caerphilly, from Wales. Bright lemony flavors and beautiful layers as it ages. Goat's milk: Ticklemore Goat. Why? Because I worked there! And the semi-soft texture with the slightly salty, mushroomy bloomy rind is sublime. For a sheep's milk cheese, go for Berkswell. It can have toasted nutty notes with hints of pineapple. Then grab a piece of Harbourne Blue, a goat's milk blue and you've got a party.

Photo: Sierra Mountain Tomme from La Clarine Farm, Somerset, CA.

How about Spain? Go for Mahón (cow), Ibores (goat), Zamorano (sheep), and Valdeon (blue). I like Spanish cheeses, so here's another one for you, all goat: Nevat (semi-soft, bloomy rind with a light, creamy, and tangy), Pata Cabra (washed rind with a chewy open texture, can have green apple, fruity overtones), and Pau Sant Mateu (wash rind with a smooth paste that can be slightly strong and full flavored.)

American Artisan Plate sampler to die for: Mt. Tam (cow,) Humboldt Fog (goat,) and Nancy's Camembert (sheep.) All bloomy rinds, all creamy, all luscious, and all the trifecta of milks.

The California Plate: Harley Farm's Van Goat – fresh goat cheese with edible flowers or Elk Creamery's Goat Milk Camembert de Chevre, Rinconada Dairy's Pozo Tomme - a semi-firm sheep cheese from San Luis Obispo County, and Vella's Mezzo Secco or Cowgirl's St. Pat, finish with Pt. Reyes Original Blue.

Oregon Cheese Plate: Willamette Valley Cheese Company's Brindisi (cow), Rivers' Edge Chevre's St. Olga (washed rind goat), Ancient Heritage's Hannah Bridge (sheep), and Rogue Creamery's Echo Mountain (cow/goat blend blue).

Photo: A cheese plate from the Cheese School of San Francisco

If you're wonderinig about the cheeses that I'd always bring home without hesitation, here are a few--

Sarah's Personal Cheeseplate for Today: Cypress Grove's Midnight Moon (Goat Gouda), Cowgirl Creamery's Sir Francis Drake (cow, washed rind, triple crème), Jasper Hill Farm's Constant Bliss (cow, bloomy rind), La Clarine Farm's Sierra Mountain Tomme (goat), Abbaye de Belloc (sheep, French-Basque), Cabot Clothbound Cheddar (cow).

My absolute favorites will change every day, depending on my mood and the condition of the cheese at my local cheese counter. I might go in with a list, but I'll make substitutions if I have to.

There are no hard and fast rules, if you like one cheese, serve a big piece of it on a nice cheeseboard, and have a big knife next to it so that others can enjoy, too.

Now you will make friends at every party if you just grab a few well selected cheeses and a fresh baguette and share with your friends.

It's like herding bats

2008-09-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

Photo: Bats at dusk.

Crawled into bed at a late hour, tired from too much time spent in the car. While Jim was reading, I noticed something fluttering around the ceiling. Did a big moth fly in? Do we have a bird in the here? It fluttered closer. No. That's no bird. Nor is it a moth. That winged creature's a bat. "Jim! We've got a bat in here!" I cried. It darted across the room. "Really? Oh sh*t."

We jumped out of bed and tried to figure out what to do. No time to wonder how it arrived in our bedroom, just wanted it out. It flew into the bathroom. We closed the door and pried the screen off of the small window. Waving our arms furiously, we tried to shoo it out into the cool night air. It just flew around in circles, screeching with its high pitched voice. Flying around and around, wingbeats audible as it passed my ear, it didn't know where to go. Suddenly another bat appeared in the room. It flew in through the open window. Great! Now we had two freaked out bats flying around our heads. The new one must have heard the cries of the trapped bat and came through the window to investigate. Not too smart, neither one could figure out how to fly back out again. We shut the window and got them back into our bedroom. We have a sliding glass door that opens onto a small balcony. We opened the door and turned on the light outside, hoping they might head towards the light where tasty bugs were ready to be eaten. The bats just kept flying all around the room, swooping past our heads, skirting around the corners of the room, seeking a way to escape.

Photo: This is not my bat. It is only a photo of a bat.

I grabbed a sheet and Jim ran downstairs and grabbed an old fishing net. Together we tried to herd them outside, through the open door. I waved the sheet furiously, and Jim would swing the net, hoping to grab a bat in flight. One actually flew outside, only to return a moment later. Argh! Frustrated. The bats kept circling and circling. We kept chasing them and scaring them. Finally a bat flew out the door for good. One down, one to go.

The l ittle brown bat (or was it a big brown bat?) was getting tired. Who knows how long it was in our house, trying to get out? Who knows how it got inside? I just wanted it gone. It kept trying to perch on our ceiling, but it couldn't get a grip. I flew into our closet trying to find a place to hide. We chased it and Jim caught it in his net. Only the net also caught one of my hairclips and the bat escaped. We were all getting tired at this point.

Jim and I switched weapons. I took up the fishing net, he grabbed the sheet. More circling ensued. I followed the creature into the closet a couple of times, narrowly missing it as it dodged the net. Then, as it was about to fly past me, I swung my arm and got it! I pressed the metal opening up against the wall of the closet and clasped my hand above the netted bat. Time to go outside! We took the frightened thing to the balcony and gently opened up the net. It was tangled and clinging on for dear life. We tried to unravel it, and left it so it could fly away.

Off to bed where we both saw imaginary bats flying past our heads as we drifted off to sleep.

In the morning I went back to the balcony. The bat was asleep, still in the net! It had a wing caught and couldn't fly away. I grabbed my garden gloves, scissors, and jacket and sat down to extricate the bat from the net. I woke it up and it tried to move away from me. It was trembling from fear or cold or both. I got a chance to get a good look at it. It had very soft, brown fur, tiny eyes, minuscule feet, and very delicate skin stretched across its bony fingers that formed its wings. It had its mouth open and I could see many sharp, tiny teeth, perfect for eating flying insects or biting me. It voiced it's complaint when I picked it up. I gently pulled the net away from the bat, making sure I didn't tear its wings. It kept a firm grasp on the net, making it very hard to remove. I ran inside and grabbed a silk wine bag. I figured I could get it to go into the dark bag, where it would feel safe and let it recuperate in a soft, dark, warm place. I snipped one thread on the net to free the caught wing. It started to come loose. I nudged the bat inside the silk bag and it grasped onto it. Eventually I was able to get the little thing into the bag. Success! I set it down on a corner of the balcony, with the top of the bag slightly open. I left it alone and went to eat breakfast. When I went back, about 45 minutes later, the bag was empty. Our little visitor had flow away!

Now we're trying to figure out what happened. How did it get in here? Will it return? I hope not.

Yes, I thought about rabies. Since it appeared to be a healthy bat, active at night, I'm not too worried. I wore gloves when I handled it. Plus, I was not scratched nor bitten. If it should happen again, I will keep the bat and have it tested. Calling all bats, consider this a warning!

Wandering around Ilwaco, Washington

2008-09-19T23:06:00.000-07:00

Photo: Chef Larry Piaskowy enjoying the local bounty. King Boletes a.k.a. porcini a.k.a. cepe mushrooms.

Jim's birthday was on Tuesday. To celebrate, we went to Ilwaco, Washington. My friends Larry and Jennifer own the Port Bistro at the Port of Ilwaco so we decided to let Larry cook Jim's birthday dinner and also explore the Long Beach peninsula in southwestern Washington.

Photo: Larry and Jennifer's restaurant, The Port Bistro in Ilwaco, WA

I used to work with Larry at Cowgirl Creamery. He's a chef by trade, having stood behind the stove at places like Indigo in San Francisco. He took several months off to learn more about the world of cheese. An opportunity came up to buy this restaurant and two years ago he and his partner Jennifer packed up a truck and left the wilds of the Bay Area and landed in Ilwaco. Jim's birthday was the first opportunity we've had to see Larry and Jenn in over two years.

The drive was easy and scenic. It took us 2 ½ hours to make it from Dundee to Ilwaco. We passed through miles of farmland, the pine and spruce forests of the Coast Range, and wound up at the Pacific Ocean near Seaside, Oregon. We drove north, hugging the coastline until we hit Astoria, Oregon at the mouth of the mighty Columbia River. A large, green steel bridge spans the river linking Oregon with Washington. Twenty minutes later we were in Ilwaco on the north side of mouth of the Columbia. The port is host to numerous fishing vessels, many anchored due to high fuel costs and a closed salmon season.

Photo: Jim checks out the wetlands at China Beach Retreat.

We stayed in the Lewis and Clark room at the China Beach Retreat, a B&B just outside of town. The room had a view that encompassed the river, marsh, wetlands, and Cape Disappointment. This is the westernmost point on Lewis and Clark's Journey of Discovery. They found a place where the Chinook Indians camped and traded with lots of Europeans via passing ships. Most of the inhabitants had moved inland by the time L&C showed up because winter was approaching and this place gets some fierce rain and winds. Every August there is a big Kite Festival in Long Beach because the wind is so reliable.

The weather was just like San Francisco. It was cold and foggy. When we arrived, we could barely see a quarter mile. It was damp and brisk. We didn't see the sun at all during our visit. We checked in and relaxed until our 7:00 dinner reservation.

The Port Bistro was bustling when we pulled up for dinner. Tuesdays are good nights for them. The tables were filled with locals and visitors. Jennifer greeted us with a big hug and sat us at table overlooking the harbor.

Photo: Clam Chowder at the Port Bistro.

With Larry at the stove and Jenn running the house we were prepared for a fun evening full of great food prepared with love. They didn't let us down. The staff was friendly and efficient. Our meal was superb. We were thrilled to find wild mushrooms incorporated into almost every menu option. Larry has gone to great lengths to find and cultivate close relationships with his food purveyors. He insists on only serving the highest quality ingredients so that he can coax the best flavors out of his dishes. His fish is all local, right off of the boats that you see bobbing in the harbor. The greens come from local growers, the beef comes from a co-op that inspects the restaurant before they agree to sell their beef to that restaurant. He bakes his own bread and makes his own desserts.

Larry makes a mean bowl of clam chowder. He uses fresh, local clams. Not a can in sight. This chowder is rich and explodes with flavor. It has been getting noticed, too. The steak that Larry prepared was perfectly seasoned and so tender that I could cut it with a fork. This steer did not die in vain. Jim's salmon was just as skillfully prepared. They treated us well and Jim had a fantastic birthday dinner. It was a thrill to eat at the Port Bistro.

We had the good fortune to meet Veronica, his mushroom forager. Larry and Jennifer joined us for breakfast on Wednesday at the Shelburne Inn. A woman came out of the kitchen with a basket of Porcini mushrooms. She was going a mile a minute and wanted to show off her morning's work. Larry and I went out to her car to see her efforts.

Photo: Veronica's mushrooms. Soon to be on the menu.

Her Mini was filled with crate of mushrooms. Lobsters, porcini, chanterelles, hedgehogs, hen of the woods, were all to be had, along with a bucket of huckleberries, and a big bag of pickleweed (Salicornia virginica.) I was in love. I want to be like this Gypsy senior citizen when I grow up. She was a riot.

Jim and I went to Jimella's Seafood Market and Community Store upon Larry's recommendation. Jimella and Nanci used to own The Ark (now closed,) a pioneering restaurant focusing on local, Northwest cuisine. Their oysters came from 50 yards away in Willapa Bay. We met Jimella, as Larry said we should. We talked about the local cheesemakers, mutual friends, and their upcoming plans to open their store up for evening dinners.

"No reservations!" she declared. "Just come in and grab a table. If you have to wait, grab a chair." She was fun to talk to. She called a local fellow, also named Larry. He has goats and used to work at Jumpin' Good Goat Dairy. He and his wife want to get licensed and make cheese, too. Nice how folks want to help us network.

Photo: Jimella's Seafood Market

We left Jimella's after eating some great clam chowder and headed up to Leadbetter Point State Park. "Mushroom heaven," Chef Larry declared. He wasn't kidding. There were mushrooms everywhere, growing under every huckleberry bush and Sitka spruce. We wandered along a narrow path and had lots of fun taking pictures and exploring the woods. We had been hiking for about twenty minutes when we both stopped suddenly. "Did you hear that?" Jim asked. "Yes, I did." I said nervously. A low, deep growl came from the bushes directly ahead of us. Hmmm. Bear? Cougar? Bobcat? Angry wood spirits? We turned around and walked quickly back the way we came. We tried to make lots of noise and I whistled Souza marches. Nothing would attack someone whistling a Souza March. No more growling beasts in the bushes, just lots of birds chirping and singing, and distant waves crashing on the shore.

Photo: Hikers proceed with caution.

We managed to catch Jimella's friend Larry later in the afternoon. He was in his garage, sanding part of a spar on a sailboat. He welcomed us with a big smile, and we chatted about goats, cheesemaking, organic gardening, and oyster farming. He was an oysterman for 25 years, providing oysters to many restaurants including the Ark. He also had a U-pick oyster operation. I'd love to pick my own from the oyster beds. You know its fresh! A very interesting guy.

We had another excellent meal at Pelicano, another harbor restaurant in Ilwaco. We had well prepared steaks and salmon and got to watch the boats in the harbor again. The evening wrapped up at the Raven and Finch, a wine bar and café down the block from Pelicano and the Port Bistro. Larry and Jenn joined us, and we sat and chatted over glasses of red wine. It was great seeing them again. Nice to see others following their hearts and living their dreams.

Photo: Larry and Jenn see us off.

Morning came far too quickly. Time to return to the farm. Our animals need us, animals=three cats and one dog. We quietly gathered our things together, ate breakfast, said our goodbyes, picked up a fresh albacore tuna loin from OleBob's Fish Market and returned to Dundee. We were home after lunch. That tuna grilled up nicely for supper.

This is Dundee. Not Crocodile Dundee.

2008-09-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

Argh! Enough about me, here's more about the place we call home.

View Larger Map

Dundee, population 3100, 26 miles southwest of Portland, Oregon. It is a wide spot in the road on Highway 99W. There are a cluster of businesses that line the highway. I've visited the birdseed and outdoor statuary shop, but there's a bakery that is never open, a real estate office, an elementary school, a dentist office, a hair salon, and a few other small businesses.

There are several restaurants, mostly high-end places like Dundee Bistro, Tina's, and Red Hills Provincial Dining. Other options are Chan's Chinese Cuisine, a Teriyaki hut, Lumpy's Tavern, La Sierra Mexican Restaurant (quite good,) and Calamity Jane's, a burger joint and country-western bar. There's also the Riteway Meat Company, home of the five-foot long pepperoni, great beef jerky, and house-cured bacon. They sell only locally produced meat and provide mobile slaughtering services. Support your local farmers!

Other highlights of this place are the wineries. As I've mentioned in previous posts, Dundee is where the Oregon wine industry began in the late 60's and early 70's. David Lett, Jim Maresh, Dick Erath all planted grapes on this hill that I now call home. Who knew that I'd be the cheesemaker in the middle of all of this great wine? I'm happy to be of service to the folks who flock to the vineyards and wineries. You just gotta buy some fine, hand-crafted cheese to go with those wines, right? I can help anyone that wants to put together a great picnic lunch feature our cheese and their wines. Our neighbors are very happy we're going to be making cheese.

And we just discovered a local apple cider. The daughter of the winemakers at Bethel Heights Vineyard makes English style hard cider. It is called Wandering Aengus Ciderworks. I tried it at the Portland Farmer's Market on Saturday. It is as good as what I found in Somerset! I bought a bottle. Now I've got to get a piece of Montgomery's or Westcombe Cheddar, some Branston Pickle, crispy lettuce, tomato slices, and some crusty bread and I've got the perfect ploughman's lunch. I'm getting hungry.

Portlanders hate Dundee. It is home to a traffic light that can snarl traffic in two directions, slowing down everyone heading to or from the coast and the casino. If you tell someone around here that you're driving to the coast, often you'll be asked, "Which coast?" From Portland you can go one of two ways; North Coast or Central Coast. Cannon Beach or Lincoln City. We live on the route to Lincoln City, about an hour and 10 minutes away. It is an easy drive, through farmland and forest, hugging the Salmon River.

Dundee is also very close to Portland. We can make it to our friends' house in southwest Portland in 35 minutes, faster if no one is looking. Our place is just beyond the Urban Growth Boundary. That means that we live in scenic, rural splendor and have to drive through the sprawling suburbs to get into the city. That also means that we have to get into the car and drive everywhere we want to go. Not fun, but I can get into Portland faster than I could get into downtown San Francisco, or North Beach taking public transit from our old house in the Sunset District.

Oh! Our house sold very quickly, thank you very much! We're quite pleased. If you need a realtor in San Francisco, I highly recommend Danielle Lazier at Zephyr Real Estate. No, she did not ask me to write that. I am simply amazed with how well the deal went. She really helped guide us through what might have been a very stressful process.

The closest town to Dundee is Newberg, population of 20,000. It is about three miles away. We go shopping there, do our banking, and hit the Cameo Theater, a small, family-run movie house. They also own the 99W Drive In, also in Newberg. For most other services, we head south to McMinnville, about 12 miles away. There's a great farmer's market in McMinnville every Thursday that I try to attend. I've met some really nice people there, like Seth and Leslie from Figment Farm, and Katie and Casey from Oakhill Organics. We bought a lamb from Seth and Leslie. Tasty meat, raised about nine miles from here. I like McMinnville because it has a nice, small town feel to it. You still have a bakery, a health food store, several grocery stores, a liberal arts college (Linfield) and all of the service that one might need without having to drive into Portland. You can even visit the Spruce Goose!

Speaking of eating locally, we joined a CSA – community supported agriculture -- called Gaining Ground Farm outside of Yamhill. This means we bought a share in the crops grown on the farm. Every Tuesday for 20 weeks, we get a bag of produce often harvested that day. This keeps us going all week until we return to the farm and get a new bag. I'll be sad come November when the bounty is over. I wish it was a year-round CSA like Terra Firma Farms, the one we belonged to in San Francisco. Not too many growers sell produce year round around here. Such a shame. I'd support them. I know of only two year round farmer's markets, one in the Hillsdale neighborhood of Portland, and one in Salem. There is a local chapter of Slow Food. Perhaps I'll encourage our local members to seek more venues. If we build it they will come, right? Sure, it is cold and rainy for six months, but we still have to eat!

I cannot begin to add up how different this place is compared to the bubble I lived in, in San Francisco. For one thing, everyone is SO NICE. Sure, I might have very different political views, or spiritual beliefs from some of the people we meet around here. But I am always greeted with a warm, genuine smile and a hello. People look you in the eye and talk to you. They are interested in meeting you. At first I was very suspicious of this behavior. I'm used to brusque interaction, and an empty "Have a nice day!" And you never make eye contact or smile at a stranger! They might be crazy and start talking to you. I spent too many years riding on Muni in San Francisco. If you talk to your seat mate, everyone gets annoyed and shoots you mean looks. Chances are pretty good, there's a crazy person on the bus or train annoying everyone. Muni will make anyone bitter.

I'm not totally new to this thing called being nice to strangers. I've gotten into the Country Wave. That's where you wave at the driver of the car passing you in the opposite direction on a country road. Nothing too vigorous, just a casual lifting of four fingers off of the steering wheel when you're close enough for the other driver to see you. I use to do this in college when I drove around the backroads outside of Columbia, Missouri.

Dreamtime

2008-09-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

Photo: Our singlewide trailer. Soon to be replaced with our singlewide creamery.

Woke up at 5:00 AM this morning from a dream where I was misting the greens on some freshly harvested radishes and little purple scallions. The song "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream," was going through my head while I drifted back into the waking world. Hmmm. Life has seemed like a dream lately. Our little 12 acre plot in the Red Hills of Dundee is stunningly beautiful. I can just sit on the deck for hours and just watch the swifts dart overhead, eating invisible bugs, laugh at the hummingbirds fight over rightful ownership of the glass feeder, and yell at the fat squirrels, scampering across the castle-rock retaining wall, their cheeks protruding, stuffed full of our hazelnuts and seeking a safe place to store them. Haven't killed one yet, but I shoot them angry thoughts and evil looks.

Photo: Our potting shed. It's a two-holer!

I dream of building several raised beds. I want to have a big veggie and herb garden. The soil around here is bright red clay. Not easy to dig, but great for growing wine grapes. With raised beds, I hope to increase the likelihood that I'll actually eat what I plant, and have more food growing year round. Oregon's climate is mild enough to allow for year-round growing. I've been reading/watching Garden Girl online. I like her raised beds. They appear to be easy to cover should I want a small greenhouse, too. Plus, I can fit a Chicken Tractor over them!!!

This is all a dream, because once I'm up and running, making cheese, finding time to garden will be a luxury until I can build a staff of other cheesemakers and apprentices. Oh yes, I plan on sharing the love of cheesemaking. I believe in giving back, as others have given to me. There are very few secrets in cheesemaking. What makes a good cheese is good milk from happy animals, a talented cheesemaker, and a nurturing environment for aging cheese.

Photo: Big leaf maple and Douglas firs at our place.

We're slowly moving forward on our plans to build our cheese facility. I'm currently seeking a builder who can help us bring my dream into reality. Not an easy task. I wish I had the skills to do this thing myself. I'm sure I could saw, hammer, and glue things together, but I'm not too sure the structure would last more than a week. Jim's skills aren't much better. I know I need help.

Sometimes I look around this place and get overwhelmed. What the hell have I done? I'm not handy. I don't know how to string an electric fence, or repair a broken valve on the sprinkler system. What was I thinking? My parents didn't have those skills and there was no one around to teach me handy things. (Sorry Mom.) They believed in hiring skilled labor. I enjoy watching and learning. If someone is willing to show me how to do something, I'll give it a go. As my father always told me, I'm pretty mechanical. I'm also very visual; I can see spatial relationships. I can see how things go together and what will fit where. This makes me a master packer. If I had been in a touring band, I'd be given the task of packing the van. I can make stuff fit where other can't. Someday this skill might serve me well. I'm hoping it will help as I plan my cheese room and aging suite.

Being new to a community has forced me to challenge many of my fears and general way of existing. I have to ask strangers for advice. I don't have a network to lean upon. What vet do I use? What dentist do I trust? Where can I get a good burger? This move has shaken me to the core. I've got to build everything from the ground, up. I feel as if I'm becoming a new person. Perhaps I'm evolving in to what I was always supposed to be. Who knows? At the very least, I've found a pretty good spot where I can spread my wings.

For your listening pleasure, I heard this song on the radio a couple of days ago and can't get it of my head. Here's Paul Westerberg singing the folk song, "Mr. Rabbit" at Amoeba Records in Hollywood in '02. Thought I'd share:

A Day in the Life

2008-08-28T01:04:00.000-07:00

Photo: Mt. Hood at sunrise on Sunday, August 24, 2008.

Howard Huff walks past our mailbox every day at 11:30. He strolls by at a firm pace, heading towards Warden Hill Road. He's 85. I often see people on foot on our road. I'm not sure I'd do it because our road is very, very dusty, as most gravel roads tend to be. As cars whiz past, they leave behind a rooster tail of choking dust swirling in their wake. From our house, I see the dust rising above the trees that line the road, coating everything in a thick film of fine, gray powder. All of the foliage alongside the road is uniformly colored in the dull hue. I'm hoping that the winter rains will restore our stretch of road back to its rightful color of many shades of green and gravel.

Photo: Balloons floating over Dundee in the morning.

I still feel unsettled. This place we call home is beautiful. Every morning I open the sliding glass door and step onto the deck to breath in the day. On some mornings I can see hot air balloons hovering over the western edge of the Willamette Valley, drifting slowly along unfelt currents of air. They head south, beyond the trees and vanish from view. I listen. In the distance I can hear the constant droning of tractors. I can hear a rooster crowing. Sometimes a dog will bark at something that only he can sense. I also hear the sound of gnawing and chewing under the deck. Squirrels are raiding our filbert orchard, helping themselves to our nuts. The crawlspace under our deck seems to be a favorite nut cache. I'm losing $$$ every day as these pirates plunder our trees. I see Steller's Jays beating hasty retreats into the fir trees with fat, cream colored nuts secure in their beaks. Vermin! They're robbing us blind! This goes on every morning.

After I'm done cursing the chipmunks, squirrels, and birds, I walk around the garden to see how things are growing, dead-head flowers, and just take in the serenity of my surroundings. I try to block out the raiding that is going on downslope. I still think about my old house and my old garden every day, but I've started to make this place my own. I planted a tomato plant, some rosemary, mint, sage, thyme, oregano, basil and chives. The rest of the garden has been revealing itself to me over the past couple of months. We've got a lot of purple cone flowers, day lilies, hydrangeas, lavender, heather, lupine, and blackberries. The blackberries are big and juicy right now. Time for pie!

Photo: Filbert a.k.a hazelnut orchard in the late summer.

The serenity of the orchard is amazing. There are hundreds of trees planted in perfectly straight columns. You step inside the rows and the light vanishes, blocked by millions of leaves, eagerly soaking up the sun's warmth. The air is cool and still under the trees. Occasionally a breeze will stir the canopy above, making the leaves whisper. Clouds of red earth muffle the sound of my shoes as I walk down one of the colonnades. The six acres of trees are young; at most, they are 15 years old. Most are healthy, only a couple have succumbed to Eastern Filbert Blight, a disease that is wiping out orchards in the area. The nuts are also prone to filbert worms. I'm not happy with the sprays that are used to keep the worms away. I'm not sure what will happen this year. The squirrels are trying to make sure that we don't see any nuts. What to do about the nut thieves?? Some say shoot them. Others say poison them. Trapping and drowning has also been suggested. Praying to St. Germaine for divine intervention was offered, too. This is an age-old battle that has just begun for us. Maybe I'll just rip out the trees and let them find other crops to destroy, like wine grapes. I'd miss the forest, but this battle is not for me.

Photo: Tractor died. Got it fixed after we brought in a professional.

My neighbors are hard at work. Grapes take a lot of care if they're going to produce some magnificent wines. I can feel the anticipation building as fruit slowly swells, gently hanging from the vines, waiting for the right moment when they will be picked, packed, crushed, and coaxed into wine. Two tons of grapes per acres. That's the norm around here. Some farm twice that, but the flavors aren't as concentrated. People don’t just discuss grape varietals around here, they talk about clones and root stock. "That's a 777 on sitting on a Jasper Johns." "This block is planted with RU-186's." I have no idea what the difference is between the clones, but I like the end results. And if they go well with my cheese, I'll choose my favorites later.

American Cheese Society Conference 2008

2008-08-01T23:48:00.000-07:00

Photo: Chicago Skyline carved in cheese.

Click on the slideshow to enlarge the pictures.

The American Cheese Society Conference began with a bus tour of Roth Kase in Wisconsin and ended with the Festival of Cheese. Four days of lactic gluttony, schmoozing, and workshops. Well worth the time and expense to get to Chicago. From 7:00am to late at night, we immersed ourselves in the American cheese world. American cheese does not mean those little plasticine squares of orange colored cheese food. For me, American cheese is over 1100 cheeses produced by hundreds of cheesemakers from all over the North American continent. I spent hours getting to know some of these fine folks and I enjoyed every minute of it.

My days were spent in workshops like "Demystifying Rennet and Coagulants," "Wine Versus Beer Smackdown," Ripening Cultures for Cheesemaking," and "Selecting Suitable Cheese for Extended Aging." Gripping subjects and stimulating discussions. The highlights were the annual Awards Ceremony and the Festival of Cheese. My favorite cheese discovery this year was Ocooch Mountain by Hidden Springs Creamery in Wisconsin. Brenda Jensen is a relative newcomer to cheesemaking, she's been at it for 1 1/2 years. Her sheep's milk cheese was exquisite. Raw sheep's milk, semi-firm washed rinded cheese in a Basque style like Ossau Iraty or P'tit Basque. Yum!

Jim and I ran away from the conference on Friday afternoon. We went to see the Cubs play the Florida Marlins at Wrigley Field. Our friends Carrie and Bob had tickets and offered us three seats. Carrie couldn't make it, but Bob, Jim, my friend Pam, and I spent a lovely afternoon at the ballpark, watching the game and the crowd. I got to enjoy a Chicago dog in one of the best ballparks in the country. Pam and I ran away after the seventh inning stretch. We had to go to the American Cheese Society Competition Awards. She had some cheese entered, so we couldn't miss the ceremony.

The awards were fun. It is always nice to see friends recognized for their efforts. The Best of Show went to Carr Valley Cheese Company for their Goat Milk Cheddar called Snow White. Sid Cook, is a fourth generation master cheesemaker. He produces over 80 cheeses, many have won awards, but he's never taken Best of Show. Quite a feat for him. If you're curious, click here for the results from the judging.

The finale for the conference is the Festival of Cheese. Imagine a huge ballroom, in this case the Grand Ballroom of the Chicago Hilton, with countless tables laden with cheese. Every cheese that is entered into the cheese competition is set out for sampling. Ribbons are on the award winners. There is a table for everything. You can find blue cheese, smoked cheese, flavored cheese, marinated cheese, washed rinded cheese, soft ripened cheese, sheep's milk, goat's milk, buffalo milk, even a wasabi cheese. Sure, there are cheddars, goudas, jacks, feta, yogurt, butter, and cheese spreads. Everything is up for grabs.

Photo: Ocooch Mtn Cheese, a new favorite of mine. Aged sheep's milk cheese from Wisconsin.

If you get thirsty, there is also lots of beer and wine to wash down all of that cheese. Bread, fruit, crackers, and jams are also available for sampling. The amount of cheese in the ballroom is staggering. Jim and I took care to pace ourselves. At the last festival we learned to get to the the top winning cheeses early and then be more selective about what you want to try. This year I wanted to explore the Canadian cheeses since we don't see most of them on this side of the border. Carrie and her friend Amy joined us and they had a field day, running around from table to table, doing vertical tastings of blue cheeses, washed rinded cheese, cheddar, and goudas. I felt like Homer in Candyland or a golden ticket winner entering Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Everything was edible and most were delicious.

The crowd started to thin during the last hour of the festival and there was still a ton of cheese left on every table. At 9:00pm, the festival was officially over, yet there was still a lot of cheese to be consumed. We looked at all of this cheese and wondered what they were going to do with all of it. Throw it out? I grabbed Steve, one of the organizers and asked if Carrie and Amy could take some leftovers home. "The pig farmer backed out, so anything that's cut is up for grabs. We're just going to throw it out." I relayed this info back to our friends. Their eyes got big and they grabbed their plastic "to-go" containers and did their best to keep some of the best cheese out of Chicago's landfill. After 10 minutes we regrouped. They had filled their containers with a wide variety of small format cheeses and wedges of some nice looking semi-firm cheeses, too. Tucked under an arm, Carrie had a rustic loaf of french bread, Amy had a round loaf balanced on top of her plastic container. Others followed their lead and grabbed cheese, too. Jim and I didn't want to take anything on the plane, so we just got to be voyeurs and helped Carrie and Amy with their haul.

The Festival of Cheese is as close to heaven as a cheese lover can get. And it happens every year. Next year you'll find me in Austin, Texas. Perhaps closer to having my own cheese ready to be judged and consumed at the Festival of Cheese.

Via Chicago

2008-07-22T16:58:00.001-07:00

I know, I know, I need to go on and on about our first few weeks in Oregon. And I will. I promise. But today is not the day.

I am currently sitting in the Computer Commons of the Chicago Public Library. Beautiful building in downtown Chicago, not to far from our hotel. Why am I in Chicago? Well, my dear friend Carrie lives here and the American Cheese Society Conference has landed in this fair city this year.

I love Chicago. It has some magnificent museums, great public transit, and some of the best pizzas on the planet. And if you like hot dogs, this place is heaven. I went to the Vienna Beef factory once and got to eat a dog in their "outlet." I eat in the finest establishments when I travel.

The conference starts tomorrow. Jim and I are taking a long bus ride to the Roth Kase factory in Wisconsin. We'll tour the plant with other cheese conference attendees. Thursday is the beginning of the panels and and meetings. Saturday is the big event, the Festival of Cheese. Imagine a ballroom filled with over 1000 cheeses, butter, yogurt, spreads, as well as beer, wine and water. Insert thousands of cheese lovers into the ballroom and watch the fun. This conference is one of the highlights of my year.

I'm sure I'll have lots of photos over the next few days, so I'll try to upload some of the highlights next week.

And then there's all of our goings-on in Dundee. Slowfood Yamhill County potlucks, u-pick cherries, u-pick lamb, farmers markets galore, seeking other cheesemakers, Turkey-rama, and trying to track down some friendly dairy folks who want to sell me their milk. Life has been interesting as we find ourselves settling into our new home.

Safe and sound

2008-06-26T22:16:00.000-07:00

Photo: View overlooking 9th Avenue towards the Marin Headlands and Mt. Tamalpais.

Greetings from Dundee, Oregon. We made it safe and sound. Our astonishing amount of stuff made it here intact, Our cats are adjusting to the new house pretty well. They love watching the birds, but the ceiling fans scare them to death. They think this large, moving object is about to descend from above and attack them. They'll just have to figure it out, I guess.

Recapping:
Our last few days in San Francisco were pretty hectic. With the help of our magnificent friends, we got all of the contents of our 1615 square foot house packed into many, many boxes. Everything was labeled and stacked in the living room and garage. Our evenings were spent with family and friends, sharing final meals and a few drinks.

Then the movers showed up. They arrived at 9:00am on Tuesday, June 3rd. The big-rig driver parked along side of our neighbors house. He then came in and assessed the load. He was impressed with our mountain of boxes that filled half of our garage. We laughed and told him to look at all of the stuff in the living room. He moved inside, going from room to room, noting what had to go and double checking with us as to what was staying (appliances, travel clothes, etc.) We already designated a "safety zone," a place where we stashed the stuff we didn't want to go on to the truck. And then they got down to business.

Photo: our house on 9th Ave in San Francisco. It's for sale!

The crew of many men began grabbing hand trucks and a parade of large and small cardboard boxes began to migrate from our house to the semi-trailer on Moraga Street. These guys were blazingly fast. The garage was empty in about an hour. I was impressed. Our truck driver coordinated the crew and everyone kept moving. Lunch came and went. The upstairs living room began to be cleared out. It was like watching a time lapse movie of a once strong flower bloom, wither, die, decompose and vanish. In a couple of days all of this stuff would reemerge 650 miles to the north at our new home.

And shortly after 5:00pm, they were done. Our house was empty except for a few items and our cats. We said farewell to the driver and the truck and went back into the house. Our feet echoed on the hardwood floors. Cat fur rolled across the empty living room like a tumbleweed. The vacuum was on the truck. Oh well. We borrowed an inflatable mattress from my mom. This was our only furniture left in the house. We pumped it up and went out to dinner. We were meeting friends at Toronado, a favorite watering hole in the Lower Haight. We figured it was a Tuesday night, so it shouldn't be too crowded. Wrong! It was packed. And we made it more crowded with our friends. We managed to take over the back room so socializing was easier. It was a nice send off. Jim and I were really touched. A lot of folks showed up. I wish there was some way to take all of our friends with us. I miss them already.

Photo: Jim finds a place to sit. I miss this kitchen.

We went home and flopped on the air mattress. Hmm. It didn't seem as firm as it had been. I inflated it some more and we went to bed. I woke up a few hours later with my butt hitting the floor. It seems Mom's mattress had a a leak! In my haze, I managed to pump the bed up again and we went back to sleep. We awoke in the morning with a semi-inflated bed and bitter words for my mother. "Oh. It did that once before," she informed me. "It seemed to fix itself." Well, it seemed to be unfixed again. We also came to the realization that the only place to sit was on the stairs--we didn't have a chair. Not good. I can stand for hours, but somehow standing in an empty house just didn't cut it.

Instead of spending our last night in California at our own, empty house, we relocated to my mom's house, across the Golden Gate Bridge. We returned her air mattress.

Our last supper? Ebisu, our favorite sushi bar. One of the best sushi places in SF, just happens to be walking distance from our (soon to be former) house. We got seats in front of Suzuki, the patriarch of the sushi bar. Steve the owner came up and asked, "So is this it? Your last supper?" Yes, our last trip to Ebisu for a while. Steve sent over a bottle of sparkling sake, Japanese champagne, he explained. The meal was wonderful, but neither Jim nor I had much of an appetite. Too much on our minds.

We walked back up 9th Avenue, and into our empty home. Time to go. After a bit of wrangling, we got our cats into their travel carriers and into the car. Then we packed the rest of our gear. Or we tried. The cats took up a lot of room. So did our stuff. I couldn't get it all into our Subaru. I'm a pretty good packer, being a visual sort of person, but I couldn't make it work. I knew we had too much to carry. We had to leave a few things behind, to be retrieved later. At last, at 10:30pm, we were saying goodbye to our house. On Friday, the painters were coming, the handyman was coming and the place was getting ready to go on the market. Wow.

The drive to my mom's house was surreal. I just could not begin to fathom that I was leaving this place for good. I watched the familiar landmarks whirl past my window. Goodbye, Roxie Market; so long, N Judah streetcar; be safe, homeless guy who sits in front of Gordo's Taqueria. I quietly wept while Jim navigated the streets of San Francisco, taking us across the Golden Gate Bridge, past the many places that I explored in my youth and up to my mom's house, the house where I grew up.

Photo: Jim and I getting ready to hit the road.

Mom and Ian were asleep. We off-loaded the kitties into the downstairs bathroom, and off-loaded ourselves into my sister's old bedroom. Sleep came easily that night.

Our early start didn't turn out to be that early on Thursday.

Coming up next: The trip north, unpacking, and unpacking some more, and taking the first steps towards starting a cheese business. That's why we moved!

Kicking and Screaming

2008-05-25T22:51:00.000-07:00

Photo: Mateo Kehler, cheesemaker at Jasper Hill Farm, and Peggy Smith, owner of Cowgirl Creamery plating cheese.

Woo hoo! No turning back now. We're going for broke. Literally.

We now own two homes. One in San Francisco, California and one in Dundee, Oregon. I am very pleased with how things have turned out. The house closed smoothly. We bought a tractor. We've hired an orchard manager to take care of the six acres of Filbert/Hazelnut trees. We toured a dairy to see if we could get dairy contacts from them. We opened a bank account and registered to vote. We've been changing addresses on our subscriptions, We've driven 11 hours between houses, moving our precious belongings.

The movers show up in NINE days!!!!!

Personal rant time: We're packing. We've got so much stuff. A few friends have come over to help and now one side of our garage is covered in boxes from floor to ceiling. The garage is just about packed. What a pain the neck. This is a major sore point for me. I'm pretty good about purging stuff that I no longer need. Essentially, I self edit. My husband is a copy editor by trade. He cannot self edit. He's a HUGE pack rat. We've boxes and boxes of magazines that he just cannot get rid of. Isn't there a name for this kind of hoarding behavior? We have five years worth of Mojo magazine, Rolling Stones from the 70's and 80's. Heavy Metal from the 70's. Bam magazine from the 80's. Ugh. All of this stuff adds up to a lot of excess weight and baggage. If we should die, I feel sorry for whoever has to throw this stuff away.

I have a Vespa scooter (1980 P200e like the one pictured in this ad from the era). He wants me to get rid of it. I made him a deal. He gets rid of the magazines and I'll get rid of my scooter. Yes, my scooter has been sitting idle for 15 years. I used to have a Lambretta and a Heinkle scooter. They're long gone. I've only got my original Vespa that I bought from an engineering professor while I was attending the University of Missouri. At least my scooter is useful and can be tuned up easily. He never re-reads the magazines. They're in no kind of order, nor are they archived. They're just in boxes. This really grinds my gears. Moving brings out the best in folks.

I have visions of delivering cheese on my scooter to restaurants and markets. Will this happen? I don't know. But I like the mental image it creates. End of rant.

Photo: Making Mt. Tam in the creamery in Petaluma, California.

I've been fortunate to take a bit of time to spend with my friends at Cowgirl Creamery. Sue Conley came over from the warehouse on Tuesday and gave me a tour of the new creamery in Petaluma. It is so fun to see a shiny, new creamery in full operating mode. It still has that "new creamery smell"!

They've been making cheese since March in the new location. Mt. Tam, the bloomy rind triple cream is the sole cheese being produced in the new facility. Soon their seasonal cheese, St. Pat will be added to the list of cheeses coming out of Petaluma. Red Hawk will continue to be produced in Pt. Reyes. It is just the perfect environment for it. The flavor is in the air. They've got plenty of room for aging, and even room for more growth. One of these days I wouldn't be surprised if they start making a firm, aged cheese.

Photo: Sue Conley, owner of Cowgirl Creamery, holding a perfectly ripe Constant Bliss from Jasper Hill Farm

Sue invited me to an event sponsored by the California Artisan Cheese Guild on Thursday. She was hosting a cheese tasting and lecture given by herself and special guest Mateo Kehler of Jasper Hill Farm. The event was called "Cave Dweller of the 21st. Century." They talked about their big projects. Sue discussed building the new creamery and Mateo talked about his massive cheese aging facility that's partially up and running on his farm in Vermont.

For me, this was an update and a refresher course. When I visited Mateo in December, the massive, vaulted cheese chambers were not up and running. Now two of them are filled with Cabot clothbound cheddar, aging gracefully. More vaults are nearing completion and will be filled with cheeses from around New England. It is an ambitious project that excites and inspires me. The complexity and the numerous hurdles needed to be overcome in order to build seven cheese cellars are enough to make anyone throw up their hands and say "forget it!" The folks at Jasper Hill Farm are overcoming those hurdles and showing us that anything can happen if you put your mind to it.

The lecture also featured a nice selection of cheeses from Jasper Hill Farm and Cowgirl Creamery. On the cheese plate we got to sample a Mt. Tam produced at the new creamery. The rest of the cheeses were Jasper Hill's Constant Bliss from Jasper Hill Farms, Cabot Clothbound Cheddar, Cowgirl's Red Hawk, Jasper Hill's Winnimere, and Jasper Hill's Bayley Hazen Blue.

Each cheese was perfectly ripe and vanished quickly.

Since Cowgirl changed method of production for Mt. Tam, I was really curious to try some the the cheese produced in Petaluma. I was more than satisfied with the results. The new creamery produces some exceptional Mt. Tams. The rind is a bit more delicate, the flavors of cream, mushroom and salt all are have more balance and nuances. I thought is was one of the best Mt. Tams I've ever had.

I met a fellow cheese blogger named Bryce. His blog is called Canyon of Cheese. He's got a good description of the lecture on his blog, as well as the sold out "Raw Milk" panel hosted by the Commonwealth Club earlier in the week. The event was a great opportunity to catch up with Mateo, as well as others attending the lecture. Friends I've made from the Cheese School of San Francisco sat next me. It was nice to see so many friends from the local cheese community one last time before we make a run for the (northern) border.

Signed, Sealed, (and almost) Delivered

2008-05-14T17:36:00.000-07:00

Photo: Our house in San Francisco. The yucca is in bloom out front. The blue bushes are ceanothus a.k.a. California False Lilac.

Photo: Our new driveway in Dundee, Oregon.

Done deal. The house is ours. The tractor is ours. The orchard is ours. I own 12 acres in the Red Hills of Dundee!

Now we just have to haul up stakes and get settled in our new home. This isn't as easy as it sounds. We've got a lot of STUFF. Jim has a ton of albums. We're talking 12" vinyl records from decades of record collecting. I've got some records, too. My big guilty pleasure are books. I've got lots and lots of books. Cookbooks, cheese books. reference books, fiction, guide books, field guides, biographies. Lots of books. Our kitchen is crammed full of stuff, too. This is scary.

Here are more photos to keep you happy in the meantime.

This is our new home, with lots of red soil. The red hills of Dundee make some mighty fine wines. Hopefully, they will make some mighty fine cheeses, too.