A SPECIAL THANKS.
It's dark and it's raining. Not hard, just obnoxiously––the kind of rain that seeks, that comes up from underneath, drifts sideways and finds your dry spots no matter how well covered they are. And for a bonus, the rain has made the ground around the house slick and muddy and ideal for handling turkeys.The turkeys are roosted by this point, so its easy enough to sneak up on them in the dark to load them into the truck. They kick and flail when we catch them, throwing mud and wetness about wildly, but everyone makes it in unharmed. Not thrilled, but unharmed.It feels good to have them loaded, and sad. And the next day it feels good to hand them one by one to the processor, and sad. It feels good and sad to raise an animal strictly to kill it, then good and sad to eat it. But that's what farming is and we are always thankful when we can feel both good and sad about an animal we eat. Because it's a lot of hard work, from start to muddy finish, but it's nothing in comparison to what they do for us.As difficult as they were this year, we are thankful for how much the turkeys challenged us, how much more they taught us about farming. Hannah and I are thankful these birds will be a part of so many good dinners, and appreciated by so many wonderful people. Thankful for our own bird, in the oven as I write this. Then when dinner is over, and leftovers exhausted, we will be thankful for how much richer the turkeys made our farm, and the strength and energy they give us to continue working on making it, our community and world a healthier place. Our thankfulness will not just be spoken at dinner then, but demonstrated in our actions throughout our lives. So thank you, Turkeys, we will do our best to never stop giving you thanks.- Jesse.
ALL THE THANKS.
To have a lot to be thankful for is a blessing. Not everyone, and not every small farmer, receives the support and love we do, and that fact is never lost on us. We are nothing if not grateful, and want to take this Thanksgiving to give a little thanks.This year has been a complete success and we could not have done it––in about a gazillion tangible and intangible ways––without the help and generosity of the Smith family. Thank you so much––you have no idea what you mean to us. Our shareholders––in both Nashville and Bowling Green––have been so wonderful. Thank you for letting us feed you. To our CSA members from last year, and to all who contributed to our cabin, don't think we've forgotten you! We are, now and forever, incredibly thankful for what you did, and what you built. To the Breedings––you know what you did. Much love! To Little Seed Farm, who make some of the best cheese this side of the Mississippi (probably both sides), thank you for all you do! We were so happy to be a part of your season this year, to have the pleasure of calling you friends, and we wish you all the best (and hope to see you soon)! To all our readers and friends, new and old, you guys rock. Thank you for being you and being awesome.Lastly, no less than a few dozen times this year, we were asked the question of how our parent's feel about what we're doing. We are always able to easily reply that they are completely supportive of us. So to our parents, thank you for being you. We have met many people who do not receive the same love and compassion from their family, the same interest, and same encouragement that you give us, and have always given us. It is special and it is love and it does not go unappreciated or unnoticed. Thank you. We love you.Oh, and Wendell and the chickens and Charlie. Duh.Happy Thanksgiving all,Jesse and Hannah.
THANKS.
Hannah and I have much to be thankful for.We're heading up to our farm this weekend, which we're deeply thankful to the Smith's for offering us. We've had a crazy year and we're thankful to our friends and family for helping us hobble through the bad times, and celebrate the good. We're thankful for all of the supporters we met during our campaign and we're thankful the new community it helped us create with you.And of course, we're thankful for this guy, who through all the moving and chaos has still for some reason put up with us, so long as we set aside time each day to play his favorite game: chase. Thank you, goof.
photo by Klara Ferrero
So Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! We'll be back next week with a full farm and cabin report. Have a great weekend, be safe, and no matter what you're eating, don't forget to thank your farmer!- Jesse.
THE DRY COUNTY WINE REVIEW: THANKS-AGAIN-ING EDITION
Hannah and I attended a dinner party last night with some friends. They had procured a fresh turkey and the obvious move was to have Thanksgiving again. And thus Thanks-again-ing was born. Since they said they had all the food covered, we were just to bring some libations.
I had been looking for my opportunity to break out the blackberry and wild-berry wines. They were the two wines this summer that, when we bottled them, tasted like grape wine. More specifically, like natural wine. For all the time I spend ranting about how we should drink more local wine and that you can make great, naturally-fermented wine from things other than grapes, I have yet to prove it to anyone besides my loving and patient fiancé, Hannah.
First, we opened the blackberry wine I'd harvested and fermented in July and it was nearly glowing in the glass. It reminded me of syrah from the Ardèche. It was light and almost effervescent, floral and refreshing and most importantly, everyone was enjoying it. Obviously, since the Food Network wont get on the ball and actually create that smell-o-vision they're always blabbering about, I can't share it with you, dear reader, but I'd pin it against any young natural wine out there with confidence. Although I had my doubts about the wild-berry wine––comprised of blackberries, rabbit-eye blueberries and black raspberries––it was similarly delicious! It was even lighter, but equally as alive.
I could have easily come all the way to Kentucky and failed - riding this hunch which assumed I could make dry, natural wine from any fruit. But as we passed the two bottles around the table until they were spent I felt exhilarated and inspired. Watching people not only indulge your whims but enjoy them is quite unreal.
At one point, Hannah leaned in and said, "We'll definitely have to cultivate those blackberry briars now," and I realized berry wines were going to be a staple in our life. Again, this was precisely the reason I came to Kentucky, I just couldn't believe it was someone else suggesting it.
