cravings and withdrawals

I've been going through withdrawals of sorts. I haven't been getting my daily ration of pork intake. Of course, I can't find any whey-fed pork around here. I had to make do with second best. I went to Guerra's Meats on Taraval, my favorite local butcher and asked for a pork shoulder roast. One big enough for two people and plenty of leftovers. My butcher cut a nice hunk off of a huge roast and wrapped it up for me.

I took it home and pulled out the crock pot. I'm not set up to smoke a pork shoulder for 10 hours on the grill, but I can certainly cook it in the crock pot for 10 to 12 hours. The key to cooking a good pork shoulder is to cook it slow and low. The crock pot does just that. I prepared a rub for the meat to get some flavor into the roast. I rubbed it all over the meat and set the meat in the slow cooker. I turned it on low and walked away.

I actually wound up cooking the shoulder for 16 hours on low. When I checked it in the morning, it was perfect. The rub had cooked into the meat, and the meat just dissolved under my test fork. Oh boy! I let the roast cool for an hour and then put it in the fridge. About two hours before dinner time, I pulled it out of the fridge and reheated it on high in the crock pot again.

I made a batch of coleslaw, hushpuppies, and fried potatoes to go with it. When we were ready to eat, I carefully pulled the roast out of the pot, got my meat cleaver, and began to chop. I was amazed. It looked exactly like the barbecue I ate in North Carolina! I opened up a bottle of barbecue sauce that I carried home from North Carolina and dressed the pulled/chopped pork on the plate. I took a bite. Heaven! I was really pleased with my results. The smoked paprika in the rub was the key. I'll be making this again.

Here's my recipe:

Sarah's Carolina BBQ Pork (crock pot)
Serves 4

2-3# pork shoulder roast (a.k.a. Boston Butt roast)
1 Tbs smoked paprika
1 Tbs brown sugar
½ tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
* ¼ tsp cayenne pepper (optional)
Carolina BBQ sauce to taste(I use D&R Ole Timey Barbecue Sauce, dist. By Rogers Cooking Service, Franklinville, NC 27248. He's known for his excellent Pig Pickin's.)

• Mix dry ingredients to form rub.
• Rub blended ingredients into roast.
• Place roast in crock pot and cook on low for 10-12 hours.
• Pork is done when fork tender.
• Remove roast from slow cooker and chop with a cleaver when ready to serve, not ahead of time.
• Dress chopped pork with North Carolina style barbecue sauce and serve warm with hushpuppies and coleslaw.
• Can be made ahead and reheated when ready to serve.
  
• Can also be served on a hamburger bun topped with coleslaw for a Carolina Barbecue Sandwich. Yum!
  

Baby steps

{Photo: Fog bank closing in on the San Francisco Airport.}


I am currently experiencing a sense of dislocation at the moment. I've been gone
for three months, wrapped up in the world of cheesemaking and sustainable farm living. I got used to waking up to the sound of goats talking to each other and listening to the roosters crow. It was very dark at night (unless the moon was nearly full).

The first clue I was no longer on the farm was when I was still on the plane, waiting to disembark. I was sitting in the back and the passengers were being slow to leave. The ground crew at SFO opened up the back to start cleaning the rear galley. I suddenly got a blast of fresh air. It flooded the plane with the scent of salt water, fog, dry straw, eucalyptus, and oak trees. It is a smell I find only in coastal California. It is a wonderful fragrance. Goat Lady Dairy had its own smell. Not unpleasant--unless you're near the pigs.

Now I'm trying to adjust life in San Francisco, at least for a little while. I look at the congestion on the streets and know that I don't need this anymore. I walk down the block at night and and know that I can enjoy life elsewhere and don't need to live with the glow of multiple streetlights. I think I can live a slow life now. My three months away from home helped be disentangle my attachments to the nonessential things like sushi, snobby gourmands, and city living in general. I like to keep things "real." I've always been pretty down-to-earth. I just want to make that more of a lifestyle choice. I'm ready for a big change of gears.

I am ready to make my next move. I want to find a patch of land that can sustain my family and make some mighty fine cheese. It will take many baby steps to make it happen, but I've already started walking, so why stop now?

So our next step is onto another plane. We're flying to Portland tonight. We've got a busy schedule planned. Tomorrow we're checking out the competition at the vibrant farmers markets. We're also going to hit the Northwestern Oregon Dairy Goat Show in Canby, Clackamas County (southeast of Portland). Oh boy! Our goal is to make some contacts with some local goat dairies and see who's got milk to sell. Maybe we'll find someone looking for a partnership? So many possibilities!

{Photo: Goats being prepped for showing at the Sonoma County Fair 2006}


You know, my life has taken a very strange turn. I've always enjoyed going to the Sonoma County Fair and watching the 4H kids, and adults show their goats and sheep. A small part of me can't believe I am now seeking these things out, and I am actually excited by the prospect of it. I would have never predicted it. I thought I was going have a career in radio when I graduated from college.

We're also going to check out the local real estate market. My wish list: I want some acreage, a farmhouse, a barn, a good well, a place to build a cheese room and an aging cave, a spring-fed pond, and a paved driveway in a friendly community that wants me as much as I want them. I wish to have a mutually beneficial relationship with the land, the people, and the and the cheese world.

I'll be back home Wednesday night.

Movin' on

Left to right--Ginnie, Carrie Carrie, Little Carrie, Lee, Steve, Jessie (Suzie Q in arms) and Sarah
...Goat Lady Dairy...

My final day, May 28, 2007.

It is Memorial Day. On the farm it is like every other weekday. The goats don't take a day off for a holiday, so we've got milk to process and turn into cheese. No rest for the weary.

Exactly one year ago, Jim and I were in Wales. It was raining. Folks around here would like some of that rain. There hasn't been a significant rain for one month. The word "drought" is on everyone's lips. It is bone dry. The garden looks wilted. The lettuce has turned bitter in the heat. The grass is turning brown and is half dead. Folks are worried about their wells going dry. Rain isn't in the forecast. It doesn't look good at the moment. Some towns are discussing water restrictions. The goats don't like the heat either. The quantity of milk drops when it is hot because they don't eat as much. We can see it and feel in the curd yield.

I spent the day working in the cheeseroom as per usual. We made camembert and crottin. I took the lead making the cheese which made me happy. I can feel my confidence building. I am cutting the curds with more assurance and less hesitation. It is gratifying to see the right size curds bobbing in the whey as while they are getting ready to be scooped up and tossed into moulds. I really like making cheese.

I went to Sammy's this evening to see him milk the goats. Actually, Joel, Sammy's landlord was milking the goats. (Sammy calls him Jewel.) Sammy was milking the cows and then came over to feed the goats and say hello. I love watching him with the animals. He adores the kids and the mothers. They love him back and give him nuzzles. Some of the milkers are huge girls. They look really healthy and well fed. Some of them are giving over a gallon of milk per milking. That's a lot for a goat.

Sammy and I chatted about goats, goat milk, the Tates, and his future plans for the farm. He's got a lot of irons in the fire, I have no idea how he keeps up with everything. That's why he's so skinny. He doesn't have time to eat.

I'm going to miss Sammy. He's quite a character. He was one of the first people I got to know around here. I'm glad I spent my last evening with him.

I'm also going to miss the fireflies. Look for the green glow in the picture.

Providence and Short Sugar's BBQ

Providence in the make.

I made a special request this week. I asked Steve if I could make Providence, the wash rind cheese based on a taleggio recipe. It is nothing like taleggio in flavor, but they both share a stinky, sticky b. linens rind. Steve made a batch of Providence last week so this week would be a gouda week. I'm not interested in making Jersey Girl gouda, even though it is quite tasty. I don't enjoy the two hours of stirring involved in the making of Jersey Girl. It is not high on my list of cheeses I want to produce. Providence is another story. I think it is a phenomenal cheese. I love the rich, complex flavor of this cheese. We've just sold the last block of Providence made from Jersey milk. Now we're trying the goat milk Providence. It isn't as buttery as the cow's milk version. It has a floral overtone yet still retains the sweetness inherent in the cheese, almost like hops and malt. I like both versions.

Steve handed the reins over to me and let me take the lead on the making of this batch. I filled the vat with 72 gallons of raw goat milk. We heated it and I stirred it to make sure it heated evenly. When it was time to add culture, I added it, let it melt and stirred it in. Rennet was added and this time did not over stir. Flocculation occurred after I quit stirring. Perfect. When it was time to cut, I sanitized the knives and gently eased them into the curd and sliced the white gelatinous mass into small bits, the size of popped popcorn. I let the curds heal for a few minutes. After healing, I took my clean right hand and stuck into the vat. I stirred the cut curds, breaking up clumps between my fingers, lifting the curds from the bottom of the vat and swirling them through the translucent whey. The curds are also being cooked at this time. Warm water is being circulated through the jacket raising the temperature of the contents of the vat. It feels good. I finish the stir with a big paddle, working a bit more vigorously in order to keep everything moving.

Ginnie's 'Nana Pudding

I wish you could taste this masterpiece of egg yolks and meringue.

Short Sugar's

My quest for the best barbecue in the Triad took me north of Greensboro on Thursday. I've been reading about a place in Reidsville called Short Sugars's Barbecue that's supposed to be one of the best barbecue pits in the state of North Carolina. Given the large number of mediocre barbecue joints around, a good one is a rare find. I've been talking to everyone on the farm quizzing them about their best barbecue experiences. No one had a place that stood out as a favorite, so I turned to the internet for help. Several websites referred to Short Sugar's in Reidsville and give it high marks. Since my time is short, I decided to take a drive and find this place and see if it is praiseworthy. I grabbed the keys to Lee's van and headed north on US421 to Greensboro around 5:30. Once in Greensboro, I picked up US29 and continued north for another 19 miles.

I found my way over to S. Scales street and came upon Short Sugar's south of downtown. I pulled into the parking lot and looked around. The building is a classic drive-in. Carhop service is available along one side of the building for to-go orders. Behind the building is more parking as well as a huge woodpile. A guy was out back sorting through the wood, placing split logs onto a cart and loading them next to the iron door built into the brick barbecue pit. Lots of wood was waiting to be fed into the fire to turn fresh pork shoulders into barbecue.

I grabbed a booth inside and looked over the menu. They serve breakfast, lunch and dinner six days a week. There are burgers, sandwiches and ham biscuits on the menu. I ignore them and go straight for the barbecue plate. A young waitress took my order and went away. I could see the prep area. Behind it is the pit. The pit is a large brick oven. Three caramel colored hunks of pork (shoulder, I assume) are sitting on the edge, keeping warm and ready to be chopped or sliced into barbecue dinners. I see a gentleman wearing a red apron wielding a large butcher's knife. He's chopping pork. This is a good sign. The barbecue isn't sitting on a steam table for hours waiting for orders.

The waitress returns with my order. She sets a paper plate in front of me. It has the classic combo of a pile of barbecue, creamy slaw, hushpuppies and fries. The fries are the gross crinkle cut fries. I can easily ignore them and focus on the rest of the plate. I can smell the smoke from the freshly chopped barbecue. I try the 'pups. They're slightly sweet with a hint of onions. Time for the moment of truth. I take a bite of the barbecue.

I pause as my mouth waters and I chew on the most moist, succulent, tender, smoky, and perfectly cooked barbecue of my life. OH MY GOD! THIS IS IT! I have tasted heaven and it comes on a paper plate in Reidsville. This is what I've been hoping to find for the past three months. The barbecue is dressed with a sauce that doesn't overwhelm but helps accentuate the tender, smoked meat. It is thin, tangy, slightly sweet, and spicy but not hot. It is definitely vinegary and has brown sugar in it. It is the best $6.20 I've ever spent.

There isn't a non-smoking section in the place. Every table has an ashtray on it. Somehow, it is ok. I expect a place like this to be smoky. I can't believe I'm saying this because I am a devout non-smoker. I want to be surrounded by the blue smoke of cigarettes blending with the wood smoke that permeates a good barbecue joint. It goes with the food. It wouldn't be authentic North Carolina barbecue if it was served on china in a non-smoking restaurant. I wish I could find this kind of place back home. I guess I'll have to come back to North Carolina more often just to get my fix of "down home" cooking and barbecue.

Yes, I did buy some barbecue to take home. It freezes just fine. I also picked up a bottle of sauce and a coffee mug. Short Sugar's has a great logo. Little Carrie has a friend who believes that the more human-like the pig on the sign of a barbecue joint, the better the barbecue will be at that place. Short Sugar's has a very human-like pig on the sign. Her friend's rule seems to be true.

Final finals

Working the market in the heat. It is 90 degrees. Ugh.

Happy Birthday Tina!!

Wrapped crottin ready to be priced for the weekend.

My final trip to the Triad Market. Little Carrie and I were up before dawn and had breakfast while Steve packed us up for our trip to the market. We were on the road at 6:45am and arrived at the market in 45 minutes. When we pulled up, a customer was waiting patiently to buy cheese. We hauled all of our heavy coolers out of the big blue Goat Lady Dairy truck and got ready for another day of selling goat cheese to the masses. It is easy to sell a product that is so tasty. It pretty much sells itself. All I have to do is keep the tasting plates stocked with samples. Folks are eager to shell out $6.00 for an 8oz tub of fresh chevre. The camembert were really ripe, and sold quite fast. The ash covered Sandy Creek also flew off of the table. The crottin were tasty, but we had a lot to sell and wound up bringing some home. The one cheese that consistently doesn't sell well is the Goat Lady Smoked Round. The texture is silky smooth and rich, but many people simply don't like smoked cheese. This is a really good version of a smoked cheese, but I would only use it in limited situations. It would go really well with tomatoes, or on a sandwich (like a BLT.) We rarely sell out of the smoked rounds, yet we keep making them. Steve really likes them.

Jan's tomatoes grown at Moon Creek Farm, an old tobacco farm.

The day warmed up quickly. By noon, I was sweating profusely. The occasional breeze didn't to much to cool things off. It was a bittersweet trip to market. I said goodbye to my neighboring farmers. They all said farewell and hoped that we'd come back sometime soon for a visit. They're a nice bunch of folks. Jan of Moon Creek Farm in Yanceyville asked what my future plans are. I told her that I plan on selling my house, move to the country, buy milk and make cheese. She said they'd love to come out and visit us. I invited them out to teach me how to garden. She grows the most amazing veggies and tomatoes. She and her husband bottle their own salsa and sell it at the market. She joked and said they can be our interns. I'd love that! I know bupkis about gardening. I've learned a bit while I've been here, but I don't have the complexion or constitution to be out in the sun for too long. Plus I loose patience quickly.

We were able to pack up and be out of there at 3:00. We had sold out of many of our cheese, so we called it a day. We drove home, unpacked, showered and relaxed. It was a long and hot day at the market.

I drove over to Ye Olde Country Kitchen for supper. Seafood buffet was the feature tonight. Pretty good fried clams, flounder, shrimp, and salad bar. I ate my fill and had a good salad with more pickled watermelon rind. I drove back through Liberty and decided I still had enough energy to check out some music. It's Saturday night. Why should I sit at home by myself on my last Saturday evening in North Carolina?

Bluegrass Ridge was calling my name. It's right off of Old Liberty Road, on my way home. I returned to the scene of my indoctrination into real North Carolina music. The same folks that I saw two months ago were there tonight. I walked in, grabbed a seat and watched old folks clog to the fine strains of the Carter Family's "Will the Circle Be Unbroken." I stayed about an hour, listening to a sloppy set of bluegrass music. I was left alone. People don't seem to want to approach an unknown single woman as easily as a new couple. I stayed about an hour. The musicians were not light a fire in me tonight, so I called it a night around 9:40. I'm glad I went. I wish I could take Bluegrass Ridge home with me.

Upon further reflection

It has been good to get away from San Francisco for a while. I need to be reminded how others live outside of California. To live in the South for three months has been really refreshing. It has broken through my stereotypes and misconceptions and the ignorance that I harbored about a part of our country that I considered "backwards." I came there with my provincial attitude that California is great, leading the nation in progressive thought and policies. We all recycle and eat organic! We are a Blue state. In my mind, North Carolina was conservative, redneck, segregated, haven for ignorant smokers, flag waving, and pro-military.

I feel like I've gone through a conversion of perspective. It's like traveling through a foreign country and getting to know the real people, not just what you see in movies or on television. I have found that I have more common ground with those around me than not. We're all upset that jobs are going overseas and people are fighting to protect their resources before they're developed and gone. Many of the folks around me do not have the best of educations, but they're wise and smart in ways that I'll never be. Bobby, Tommy and Sammy can all build, repair, and rig up anything you can think of. They're educated by their hard work. They've gained wisdom by building supportive families and communities. They're farmers, mechanics, and carpenters. Why would they want to ruin the land that provides food for their families and an income? Everyone around here knows how to garden, when to plant, when to hay, when to harvest, and how to store the abundance from the garden.

I'm saddened by the news that Klaussner Furniture in Asheboro was just purchased by the Chinese. The North Carolina furniture industry is becoming antiquated. Everything is now being made overseas. California isn't the only state feeling the effects of outsourced jobs. The unemployed mill worker has a lot in common with the unemployed tech industry accountant. Both are seeing their jobs move outside of the US where labor is cheap.

Happy calves like to suck on each other's ears after drinking whey. I have no idea why.

I am reminded of the phrase "Look for the good in others and they'll see the good in you." Southern hospitality is still vital and alive. Strangers make eye contact with you and smile. Most folks will take the time to talk to you if you give them the opportunity. Almost everyone I've met has been amazingly kind and giving. Even the clerk behind the counter at the drugstore is genuinely friendly. I feel that my life has been enriched by the time I've spent with the Steve, Lee, Ginnie, and Nathan Tate, Sammy, Carrie Carrie and her husband Bobby, Carrie's parents Tommy and Sue, Miriam, Jessie and Little Carrie. I will miss the open, honest community that I have discovered here in North Carolina. It has been a great awakening for me. I feel ready and more comfortable leaving San Francisco and building my own community in the countryside. I'm ready for a more rural existence in a place where folks wave at each other as they speed along country roads.

I have discovered that I CAN live without the constant drone of traffic, the struggle to find parking, sushi, Asian food, Mexican food, foreign films, major league baseball, cable television, and street lights. I find other things to occupy my time. I've been writing this blog, I've been taking lots of photographs. I've been simply watching the unfolding of the seasons. This experience has been not only about learning how to make cheese, but it has broken down barriers and resistance I didn’t even know I had. I feel much richer.

Alpine kid, two days old appeared on Friday.

Each subsequent internship has been more rewarding than the previous one. Cowgirl let me get my feet wet, but they only wanted me to work one day a week for three months. I traveled to England to learn about blue cheese and fine goat cheese making. Working closely with Robin, Nick and Ben for almost a month gave me a strong foundation to start making my big plans. Now that I've worked with Steve and Carrie at Goat Lady Dairy, I feel really confident about the future. I knew that working six days a week for three months would either break me or make me. I'm ready for more. I can't wait to find a place to call my own and start building. I want to make cheese! It is just that simple.

What do you think of the name Dipsea Dairy?

Sandy Creek in the vat

Fresh curds in crottin moulds.

I got to make a batch of Sandy Creek from milk pasteurization to demoulding of the cheese. It is made in a similar fashion as the camembert, but it is formed in a different mould. It is also made with a line of culinary ash in the middle of it like a morbier or Humboldt Fog.

After rennet is added to the heated milk, I love taking the test knife to the curd mass and checking for doneness. It is like sticking a toothpick in a cake to see if it is done. You can only know when to say when by experience. I carefully make a slice in the gelatinous curd and lift up the sliced section with the blade of the knife. If the split curd holds together properly and if the whey is clear, it should be done. The trick is to determine the right point of done. If the curd is too soft, it won't hold together. If it is too hard, it won't drain properly and the cheese won't set up right either. So many variables to learn!

I cut the curd, let it rest, stirred it, let it rest, scooped off the whey, and then dipped the curd into the sanitized moulds. Then I had to wait for the curds to drain for a couple of hours. When the curd shrank by half, I took a shaker and sprinkled ash over half of the moulds. I then had to sandwich the curds together, combining the ashed cheese with the unashed. After they were all sandwiched together, I left them to continue to drain and knit together. In the morning the cheese will be demoulded, salted, rolled in ash and left to dry.

My personal goal for the week: eat as much barbecue as possible. Nate, Carrie and I made a trek to Greensboro to kick off my barbecue binge at Stamey's Barbecue. We all ordered up big plates of pit roasted 'cue and had a great meal on chopped pork shoulder. Stamey's does it right. Heaping mounds of pork, nicely seasoned with a layer of sauce. Barbecue slaw and fresh hushpuppies round out the plate. We were all thrilled with the food. Carrie Fields had never been there and Nate hadn't been there for a few years. I think I like Henry James a bit better, but Stamey's is still good. I like it so much I bought dip and a pound to freeze. It will be coming home with me.

We're waiting for rain. It has been a very dry spring. The lawn is turning brown and plants are wilting. I hope they get some rain soon. The pastures are looking pretty sparse.

It is haying season. It is time for "first cut" of the fields. The rye, hay, alfalfa, clover, have been growing all spring and now everyone is scrambling to mow and bale the nutritious grass of spring. Second cut will happen later in June/July and is still pretty good. The third and fourth cuts are not as nutritious but still provide bedding and hay for the animals. I am amazed to see all of the activity in the fields. Friends, families and neighbors will get together to follow behind the tractor and load bales onto trucks. The hay must be put up quickly and it must be dry. If it is damp it mildews and is useless. Farming is not an easy job.