Blessings All Around.

Last weekend we officially blessed the farm. And in true Holmestead fashion it was a grand celebration with great friend and family and fabulous food and drink. We chose today because it coincided with the 200th anniversary of the Messe du Sovenir des Charcutiers; or mass of remembrance for the guild of butcher who create hams, sausages and pates. So what you say? Take a moment and think about the importance of this group of "artists" and the many connections they have to us as burgeoning farmers.

We have really tightened our belts to swing the purchase of the farm and preparing for its transformation into our permanent home. One of the greatest savings we have discovered is eating as locally as possible, mostly from our own garden, and when we eat meat it is often the "nasty bits" that taste so good if treated right, and cost so much less than the more traditional cuts. We have cultivated friendships with fellow farmers to find out who are the good slaughters and butchers on the island and surroundings. We have asked more questions of chefs, and cooks at every restaurant we visited and community gathering. And we have read way too many books on how to grow your own, slaughter your own, grind your own, and cure your own food.

So when I heard that November 16th was the 200th anniversary of honoring this guild of butchers it seemed like a wonderful reason to eat, drink, and hold church in our favorite sanctuary: the farm. What resulted from our call out to friends and family was a triumphant affirmation of friendship, generosity, and lots and lots of humor. We pressed cider for hours, and even ended up with a little left over despite the long line of kids (and a few adults) catching the fresh juice in paper cups. We could not wait for Toby to deliver his homily before diving into the food, and were happy that we did. The fog of the morning, of our minds, of the state of things, burned off just after noon. Toby lead almost 90 of us down into the field and gave a heartfelt thanks and praise. And then we all got back to eating!

Some of the most memorable dishes were:
Lise and Tamlyn's Pigs in a blanket (what makes it the perfect dish is Lise's professional cooking background)
Ann's plate of trotters
PK's Thai pork with yummy rice and rooster sauce
Wiley's chocolate chip cookies with crackling's
Andrew and Erin's offerings from Canada (is it legal to bring cured meat across the border?)
Steve's rillettes
Bill and Shirley's spare ribs
The Hammer's showing up with enough various pork products to feed us all twice
The Vegetarians Kathleen and Bryce showing up with Kielbasa
And the fabulous array of salumi from Salumi

It was absolutely stunning to see the thought and creativity that so many people put into what they brought to the party. It reminded us all that we chose to gather that day, we chose to be friends, we chose to create this community. And what a fabulous foundation we set for all of us in this vacillating time hope and uncertainty. Thanks everyone.
Here is a copy of Toby's Homily, enjoy:
The Blessing of the Farm

The sun shines of us all today after days of fall rain. Like the growing plants around us, we welcome the energy to renew our spirits. And we welcome you here today for a gathering of friends and family for many reasons to take pause and celebrate. We celebrate the bounty of the fall harvest. We celebrate the sale of the Seattle house and the ability to now pursue our vision for Holmestead Farms and share that vision with you. We celebrate by pressing cider together, enjoying each other’s company—making new friends and reconnecting with long time friends. And honoring the pig.

Our gustatory theme today is the natural pairing of apples and pork. Today, November 16th, marks the 200th anniversary of the charcutiers mass of remembrance. In 1513 the charcutiers formed their own guild and broke from the general butcher trade. The mass honors the makers of sausages, hams, and pates. By the way, Saint Anthony is the patron saint of the chacutiers—thanks Tony. And the pig is a great and appropriate symbol of a farm—pigs eat the scraps and eventually become food, with virtually every single part of the pig edible.

We want to thank everyone who is here today for supporting us in our move to Vashon and in our first season of production. Each of you, in some way, helped us and we appreciate your support and love.

Remember the original Stuart Brothers roasterie in the old Country Store building—the current location of Minglemint, now a central gathering place to share a good cup of coffee or chew the fat with buddies? How about the monks who have been roasting coffee for ever? And now, Vashon has a vigorous farmers market, the most active fruit club chapter in Western Washington and beyond organic farms like Sea Breeze, other family farms like Greenman Farm, Hogsback, and others. And how about the underground dining at Kurtwood? Vashon has a productive and engaged farm and food culture.

There’s a demand for local produce, dairy, and meats. In preparation for this party, the woman at Salumi in charge of wholesale accounts asked when they can buy our eggs. We’ve sold berries and apples at the local farmers market, through Bernie and Norine, and privately by the box. Much more to come next year. We’re excited about people’s interest in knowing where their food comes from and who grows it. Ultimately our vision for Holmestead Farms is to include the production and sale of honey, preserves, pickles, produce, eggs, and fruit. And we intend to have culinary gatherings, cooking classes, and private dining events.

Why are we doing this? We firmly believe that the sharing of food is the key to building a community—to break bread with one another. Growing our food connects us with the land, the air, and the water and reminds us that these are delicate resources to be handled with respect and care. Our animals have personalities and are well loved, especially the ones that become food. Food brings us together, slows us down, and nourishes our bodies. And it’s important for conveying our family values to our kids.

May we all be blessed to find and develop a greater community through the connections provided to us by sharing food. We bring together friends and family to celebrate each other, the bounty of the harvest and to give thanks for our resources, both the natural resources and our individual industrial efforts. May we not take these for granted.

Let’s remember our obligation to treat the earth, air, and water with respect, like the essential relationship between bees and apples trees. Neither survive without the other. Let’s remember the value of communing with others and the significance of sharing food—for sustenance, pleasure, and for art. Let’s remember to give and receive graciously and thankfully.

It takes soil, rain, sun, seeds, tender care and patience to raise a good turnip, apple, or raspberry. It takes magic and chemistry to make a great meal or vint wine. But it takes human interaction and love to make any of it worth while or taste good.

As Pere Luc Forestier, the pastor of the church in Paris where the mass occurs every years says, “It’s not just about taking care of an organic need of the human body, but, more important, about providing what responds to our desire of conviviality, for sharing, for good taste, for beauty.” Amen.

Slow and Steady, Slow and Steady

So we have this turtle named "Reach". I adopted him many years ago when a student of mine went off to college and need a home for her pet turtle that was as old as her. I had a large biology classroom at the time, and would take in fish, hedgehogs, small rodents, plants, etc. partly in an effort to fill up the room with living examples of our topic de jour, but also partly because I had a hard time saying no to something that needed a home.

Reach lived in a 65 gallon tank his whole life, and when I received him he came with the tank and his "play things", a glass fish and plastic dinosaur he seemed to enjoy moving around the tank. I would bring Reach home in the Summers, and then back to the classroom in the Fall, and when I finally stopped teaching, Reach and his tank were tucked up against a wall in the playroom of our old Seattle home.

When we bought the farm out here on Vashon, we decided that Reach could use a change of scenery. Instead of moving him and his tank, we just moved him to the pond in front of the farmhouse. We figured that he had lived a long enough life (we figure he is almost 30 years old) in a tank, and either he could retire happily in the pond, or just "retire" if he could not survive on his own and that would be alright as well. Time passed and every once in a while we would see Reach hanging out in the bottom of the pond with the few resident goldfish swimming overhead. Then we stopped seeing him in August, and wrote it off to either a Raccoon that we knew was visiting the pond, or to the over-grown lily pads that provided lots of hiding places.

So this morning we received quite the surprise when our neighbor down below our two-acre farm, came up the long drive to see if I wanted a new pet. I immediately told her we were quite full up with cats, dogs, and chickens, and we could not take any livestock until at least the Spring. She smiled and said, "This pet is perfect, I think it could even just live in your pond!" I immediately asked her if it was a turtle, to which she gave me a shocked look and asked me how did I guess? I told her that we "had" a turtle many months ago, but were pretty sure he was dead. Besides, this turtle she found trying to cross the busy road at the bottom of our driveway in a downpour yesterday afternoon. Could it be that Reach went on a three-month tour of the farm, and was still alive? As soon as we peered into the empty bathtub at the neighbor's home it was obvious that Reach was still with us, and as soon as I picked him up he game me an appropriate hiss and tucked into his shell. We returned him to the pond, did a big three cheers for the traveler, and left him to his own devices.

Reach's big adventure through our farm, the neighbors' properties, and dodging traffic fit so perfectly into how I have been feeling this week. We just witnessed the first black man being elected in our country, and all around me I see stunned and happy faces. It has been a long slog for so many before us to abolish slavery, fight for the right to vote, march for civil rights, and struggle for equal opportunities. Sometimes those struggles got stretched out so much that the daily efforts went unnoticed. People wake up every morning and decide to fight the good fight, knowing that they may never reap the rewards for themselves. And then one day the seas part, we summit a mountain, we feel the sun on our face, and know that today is different. We have elected a new man to be "boss" of our country, as my kids put it, yet they struggle to see how he is different. They think he is a great person because they hear how excited I am, they see me tear up when I hear him speak, they feel like they won, because he is the one we voted for. They are still young enough that they truly take each day as it comes. They were happy yesterday because Barack Obama was elected our new president, and they are happy today because we found Reach.

Thank you to all those that have gone before us to pave the way for peace and change. Thank you to our children who welcome each day as it comes. And thanks to Reach, who shows us that all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other, and although you may not get very noticed in your day to day slog, you still can go far!

I wonder were Reach will take us next?

Taking a Vacation from the Micro

A few days ago we headed off island to join a celebration for a friend's birthday. It was the first time we, as a family, went back to the city since we sold our house there. It was a strange feeling to be "back" where we used to live, but have no touchstone, no home base. At first, I was nervous, would the conversations be forced and awkward with friends we had not seen in months? Would I be able to talk about something other than farming? (Is there anything other than farming?) Would G & F find some city manners, and adjust to the hustle and bustle they had not visited since September?

The party turned out to be great. Seeing old friends was just the shot in the arm we needed. We shared "farm tales" with friends who then wanted to sign up to come out and help us. We laughed at their hectic, frenetic lives and how they manage to keep all their balls in the air. G & F quickly found their peeps and invented game after game in between happily eating food that is so far away from farm cooking it seemed like a vacation. All of this got me to thinking as we rode the ferry back to our little bubble of civilization. Maybe we could extend our vacation just one more day.

The next morning we hooked the kids up for a playdate with their Omi, while Toby set to work doing chores and I got in the ferry line off the island. I was armed with five Asian cook books a few shopping bags, and determined to buy up the makings for an Asian feast. We have eaten so close to home ever since we moved to the island, partly to keep within our new tight budget, partly because we can get such wonderful food straight from our own land. I felt like we could all use a trip away from our 10-mile diet and enjoy a vacation on our dinner plate.

A few hours later, I had bags bursting with all kinds of treasures from fresh Jujubes to pork belly, lacquered duck and Sechuan peppercorns. My head was filled with all the advice I received from proud merchants excited to see a tall out-of-place white chick looking to make a good meal. On my way out of the ID I grabbed a jasmine bubble tea with tapioca hopped in my yummy smelling car and headed for the ferry.

Back on the island we put in a team effort with friends to construct a feast of Cashew shrimp, Snow peas with fresh water chestnuts, Braised tofu with pork and mushrooms, Gai lan in ginger sauce, Pork belly with cabbage, and Crab in chile sauce.
We ate until we were stuffed, and the kids were running wild. We drank the wrong wine, and didn't care; we were on vacation from the norm.

At night's end we were sated and home again, on Vashon, with a list of farm chores longer than our arms. But just that little break, the different smells, tastes, techniques, and people, helped me return to my responsibilities on the farm with a renewed energy. It is so wonderful to live on an island that is just as far away from things as we want and need it to be.