Learning Lessons | Sequatchie Cove Farm

Ok. So here’s a little story about growing up at Sequatchie Cove Farm…

The farm is in a blessedly very rural part of Tennessee. To get there you have to drive on a few small roads where most of the houses are hardly bigger than the cars parked out front (it is funny in America how small cars usually live at big houses and big SUVS live at the smaller ones). One of our neighbors raised goats- mainly to eat up the undergrowth in the woods, but sometimes to sell for slaughter. One day he gave us a miniature Billy goat. I think now it was just to get rid of the thing.

Back then we were just beginning farming and since Bill was a city slicker from Atlanta he didn’t know that goats don’t like to be alone. That poor goat lived a lonely life. He was constantly looking for lady goats- or any goat at all- and as a result smelled EVER so strongly of goat musk. You could smell his plea for companionship from across an entire field. After awhile he turned mean and desperate and would chase you and the cows and our dogs around in circles. One day Jimmy (our very first calf born at the farm to Jersey, an ornery Jersey milking cow who produced half a gallon of cream to every gallon of milk) had her first calf. It must have been during a thunderstorm and she and her calf got separated as soon as the birth happened (as calm as cows are they are also prone to panic). Jimmy would not accept her calf as her own because they did not get that initial mother-calf greeting. So Bill and I went down in the field to bring the couple to the shed where they could reconnect.

But our Billy goat was angry at the world by then and chased Jimmy through the fence and me through another fence and the calf through another until it was complete chaos. I don’t remember how we finally made it to safety but somehow Bill, me, Jimmy, and her calf all ended up in the shed with the goat on the other side of a very battered gate.

After that we decided it was time for the goat to go. We tried every way to get him in the trailer until we finally ended up having him chase my fifteen-year-old cousin in the trailer in a fit of goat rage and cheering for my cousin as he quickly turned, ran out, and slammed the gate. I hope the goat found a better home- complete with ladies a-plenty…

To conclude, we have learned a whole whole lot since then. Fortunately most of the mistakes have been learning experiences and will not be repeated in the same way- at least not anytime soon. But sometimes in life I can still feel that goat chasing me. And as I run I learn from it. I think that story popped into my head as I sat down to write this because I feel a new wind blowing into Chattanooga. I felt like I was fourteen again walking behind Jimmy to meet her calf in the shed with a goat hot on our heels.

Although- I’m not really sure at the same time what that story has to do with anything. It was all I could think about when I sat down to write this though so I thought I’d share it.

So without further ado I want to say- YEA to the Movies on Main. I have to admit that I didn’t thoroughly follow the New Food Economy Week rules and proceed the movies with a visit to the Terminal Brew house. I instead spent the afternoon at Williams Island Farm hoeing morning glories out of pepper plants and then helped cook a meal of homade pasta and meatballs. But I don’t think that is too bad…

It was so nice to sit down on the ground and watch a couple movies projected against Neidlove’s wall in the middle of Main Street hubbub- complete with fire trucks roaring out. And the movies were such a great selection. I get so tired of seeing really intense movies about slaughter houses and huge conventional farms. I think by now most of us have read Fast Food Nation or seen Our Daily Bread. We KNOW what is going on and that is why we shop directly from local farm. The horrors are so passé. I liked the movies because they were simply nice documentaries on the SOUTH. The first was about a moonshiner who sang songs and ballads I know almost by heart throughout the movie and the second was about a small town who cooks barbeque ’whole hog’. I think that these movies were more educational for me than a lot of other ones could be. They were simple and straight forward and both had a lot of darkness. The moonshiner was a terrible alcoholic and the barbequers lived solely to cook pigs and developed all kinds of lung problems from breathing in smoke all the time…

But this is US. I liked both of the movies because they were kinda based on food but really focused on CULTURE. They did what they did because they loved it, had fun, and truly believed in it. A man wants to spend his whole life cooking whole hogs to just give people a good barbeque sandwich? He will give up family and health just to make his neighbors happy to eat SANDWICH?

Ah. Ok. So I will stop with that. I just want to say that the movies were MOVING to me (isn’t that what they are supposed to do?). They made me think more clearly about the very region I live in and be very proud and at the same time ready to move on…. There is a lot from the past that we can take- mainly this passion for the BEST (whether it be barbeque (which CANNOT be made from simply a shoulder or ham I’ve learned) or moonshine- and there is a lot that we have to keep from losing))

And now I am ready to move on to the next day where we had our Community Discussion with Bill Keener, Sandor Katz, and Trea Moore at GreenSpaces on Main Street. What a wonderful collection of people right there. Sandor was really nice to have around to somehow keep Bill’s comments on the ground. I know from twenty three years of experience (and having inherited a bit of it myself) that Bill can get a little carried away and leave the rest of us thinking- truckloads of cantaloupe WHAT? But really it was a nice discussion- Bill and Sandor opened by talking a little about food, local food, and what the heck it all means in the first place and why we should even care…

And Sandor said something that reminded me of my whole spiel on buying peppers in the middle of winter at Greenlife and about awareness- this is our job. Peppers sell the heck out of themselves at Greenlife in the middle of winter. I personally would never buy one- that actually has never crossed my mind. That is not to say that you should STOP buying from Greenlife because they sell peppers in the middle of winter (they ARE a grocery store afterall). But it would be really nice if we all could stop and look around us and think, are peppers even in SEASON? And some people don’t even KNOW how to do that. Some people don’t even know seasons exist. Sandor said- just because he is conscious of what he eats and where it comes from he is not going to stop some treating himself to some luxuries like a nice juicy pineapple, which we cannot grow here (although my mother did a few summers ago- it was about the size of my fist but delicious and juicy all the same), or chocolate, or avocados. But we have to think of these things as just that- treats and luxuries.

But the best part about eating in season is that EVERYTHING becomes a treat. The first strawberry, the first snap pea, the first stalk of asparagus, the first head of lettuce, bunch of kale, beet, pepper, cucumber, and glory be- the first tomato! Have you EVER tasted anything so sweet, or crunchy, or juicy, or wonderfully bitter, or just plain ALIVE? I know I haven’t. I remember when I was little my favorite foods were raspberries, cheese, olives, and tomatoes. The cheese and olives I’m sure were around a lot but I KNOW what that first raspberry tastes like. I think I even wrote a poem about it. And tomatoes- expect me to faint on the spot at the sight of the first tomato (I try to stay conscious though- just to make sure no one else eats it). As Frank Stitt said- eating like this creates a hunger and desire that we don’t otherwise get. It brings huge amounts of joy into the simple act of eating (which, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t think is simple at all- it’s about as simple as a spider web covered in the morning dew).

But I think I’ll stop now before I get carried away (or maybe I’ll say one more thing). Right before the talk was over my mother and I had to rush off to see the last performance of Sothern Connections at the Chattanooga Theater Center. I didn’t feel too bad about leaving because this was a play written by a local playwright and performed by mostly people I knew. And it was a whole lot of fun. It was a perfect way to end a day of local-community consciousness.

NOW I’ll stop. I want to write about the fun cheese tasting at Sequatchie Cove and the fabulous lunch but that is going to wait til part THREE. Because I also want to find some space to talk about what I’ve been cooking and I know there’s none of that.

But- it has been really nice to see new faces at all of these events. That is so refreshing and encouraging. Thank everyone for coming and I’ll see you all at the market- if not before.

Filed under: Local Food Letter on June 23rd, 2009 |