Return to Cheesy Street & A Short Musing on the Cute Cow Dilemma

Okay okay, I apologize for yet another extended delay in posts. Life in the cheese world has been business as usual, but my time has been occupied with exploring a little more of Connecticut and the surrounding area in my dwindling days here....oh and with playing with the stupidly cute new kittens on the farm.

As an apology, I now provide you with the following information that I hope you will find of use some day:  According to the show Modern Marvels, Garrotxa, a firm Spanish goat's milk cheese, is the most effective cheese cannon ball. Thanks to Holly for the heads up on this bit of info; according to her, it busted through the sail, no problem! If I ever become a black market sea-faring cheese dealer, I know exactly how to protect myself. Someone make sure this doesn't get into the hands of the wrong Somali pirate.

The only new events in the last few weeks have primarily involved the cows. First, the cows received their hoof trimming right outside the cheese house window. Trimming all the cows was an elaborate spectacle that we could view from the cheese house window all day. It involved a large platform restraint that lifted and turned each cow on her side. Then, the pedicure guy came around, wearing goggles and holding a giant curved electric saw. He started shaving off giant projectile pieces of the hooves. As you might imagine, none of the cows were cool with this event. They were all breathing heavy and drooling...which I suppose is a natural reaction to stress in all animals; I did that on a daily basis in my old law firm job. Many of the cows were fidgety, which put them at risk of injuring themselves from flailing about too much. There was one heartwarming moment when cow came around and started licking the face of her restrained cow friend who was getting trimmed in an effort to calm her down. I'm sure the cows needed the trimming and it was done as gently as possible, but I felt bad for the cows. If the woman at LA Nails tried that on my feet, she'd get punched in the face.

A few days later, I saw one of the farm workers pulling one of the young male cows along. "Oh hey where is she taking him," I say, peering out of the window.  Everyone else looks at each other, hesitantly and in unison  a chorus of "uhhhh," followed by laughter. I discovered there was a separate area I had not seen where the young males are kept before they are sold or get sent for slaughter. To be fair, the boys are segregated to keep them from getting fresh with the young girl cows, and not to prepare them for death. Still, it was the first time I came face to face with the idea of eating one of the cute little cows. The farm sells its own pasture raised beef and veal (not the bad kind of veal, but the kind from happy, free, pasture fed young cows). I've eaten plenty of delicious meals from the farm's meat. But I never had to put a face to a burger. Oh well, I know it's the circle of life and not all the male cows can be raised for breeding. Plus, eating small amounts of locally raised meat is way less guilt-inducing and much better for the environment than eating unreasonable portions of faceless mystery meat at a restaurant of questionable repute. Oh and I really like eating meat; huzzah for delicious salty protein.

Both of these events made me confront my conflicted feelings of attachment to cute animals, empathy for living things, and desire to eat a fat steak. I suppose I could pontificate more on that front, but I'd hate myself if I ever pretentiously posited a manifesto on vegetarianism versus omnivorism or militantly demanded that all McDonalds be outlawed. I'm not trying to be a hippie about this. I'll just leave it at the fact that this whole summer has made me appreciate where good food comes from and the importance of trying to incorporate as much locally produced foods and ingredients in your diet as possible

Last Sunday, I visited the farmers market in Coventry, Connecticut. I'm more or less done with working the major farmers markets in my last three weeks (wow! only three weeks!), but I wanted to check out one of Connecticut's biggest markets. It was definitely busy, but a much more picturesque and less claustrophobic event. The whole thing took place on the site of the Nathan Hale Homestead on a far flung stretch of country road, so there were also people dressed in colonial garb...which was...weird.

The last major event was having my boyfriend come experience what a day of cheesemaking is actually like, but more on that later (stay tuned for a potential guest post). The next few weeks will be occupied with cramming as many new experiences as possible into the last weeks. Including, visiting cheese stores in the area....and... milking the cows!











(Exploring Connecticut is pretty)               (Flute and Harp doin' what they do on the farm, which is not much)

(Fourth of July on the farm: we grilled, we drank, we hand-churned our own ice cream)

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