Drunk and Cheesy

On my last weekend at the farm, we geared up to sell over half a ton of cheese. The weekend of June 30-31 was jokingly referred to as "the big show." In addition to the standard New York City and Connecticut markets, we were attending a few once-a-year festivals that often exceed some of the weekly markets in traffic. In total, we had pulled and wrapped over 1,100 pounds of cheese for our big market/festival weekend.

I would be working one of those seasonal festivals: The Connecticut Wine Festival. The Festival would take place over both Saturday and Sunday, with an estimated crowd of between ten- and fifteen-thousand people each day....most would be drunk.

Crowds were two to three people deep
at the booth all afternoon

As I've said before, if I had to pick a favorite task of all the responsibilities I've had this summer it would be working at farmers markets or the farm store where I have face-to-face interaction with customers and a chance to see the genuine pleasure and joy they derive from a delicious food (all the better when the food is something I helped create). Yet, the wine festival was unlike working at any other market, and at times would push the limits of my stamina and patience. People didn't arrive at the wine fest with the goal or mindset towards buying and discovering new foods. There were, of course, many who did enjoy and appreciate the specialty food offerings that could be paired with their wine purchases. But most others were there to get their drink on.

The effects of an afternoon of drinking and wine tastings created two crowds of people. The first were the extremely patient and friendly people who's wine induced carefree attitudes allowed them to calmly wait out the big pushy crowds of people in order to make their purchase. I really really appreciated these people. The crowd was non-stop from noon to seven. It was 4:30 p.m. before I even got a chance to take a break and eat.  But unlike, at a busy market like Union Square, people were less familiar with the cheeses and more keen on sampling every cheese. So providing individualized and orderly attention to each customer was close to impossible. I was saved by the people who were willing to wait calmly until I had chopped up enough mini samples to dole out into the unending glut of outstretched hands before they themselves asked for their next sample and eventually made their purchase.

Then there were the impatient people emboldened in their righteousness by an afternoon of drinking. A few would assume I was ignoring them if I couldn't give them a sample of what they asked for immediately despite seeing the crush of people I had to deal with. But most simply were in a "tasting" mindset and would crowd around the table, holding their hand out, completely unaware of what they were sampling, forcing them to yell "what type of cheese is that" at me. At a normal market, people will come up, try a couple cheeses, pick their favorite, purchase, thank me, go about their merry day. The structure and orderliness to the service I can provide flows from that system. But there were times when the wine fest was more like a scene out of an upper crust Connecticut re-make of Oliver. All I saw were hands begging for more as I frantically cut up tiny samples of the next cheese.

I don't know if there was something I could have done to create some sort of system or order, or if, in fact, my helpfulness was lacking. But I suppose it was just the nature of the event.

All that said, I did have a great time. It was a completely different beast of an event. The Wine Fest had, let's say, more character than most other markets. And, while at times annoying and stressful, for the most part it made for a really fun way to spend my last weekend. I always love the constant energy of having such large crowd, and I really enjoyed the people I had a moment to talk to. I appreciated the people who kindly told me we were doing a good job when they noticed how frantically we were working. Even better were the people who just wanted to make sure we knew how much they loved our cheese. Despite the crowds, there were faces and customers I remembered when they returned to the booth. One gentleman noticed my Kansas hat. He went to KU many decades before my time and played basketball there. We exchanged a Rock Chalk and reminisced about our alma mater. Good times. There were many people who were excited and happy to fight the crowds to discover a new cheese, and I loved making their hazy weekend afternoon a little more delicious.

Okay okay, but one last rant: I noticed something on this particular weekend...women in their late 40s in Western Connecticut need to cool it with the plastic surgery. Not so much because half a dozen operations makes your face look way more jacked up than it did to begin with; that's a separate issue. But mostly, I'm concerned because apparently it can destroy your ability to taste. If you find yourself frequently complaining that a sample is too small for you to taste anything, perhaps you should have thought twice about your latest rhinoplasty procedure before you permanently destroyed your olfactory senses.


Somewhat related to the Wine Fest, pictures of Connecticut wineries (as you can see, far more peaceful than the Wine Fest):