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Tricia Smith - engineer and anthropologist Tricia Smith and Michael Holland are pioneering a new model of suburban farming at Carlisle Farmstead Cheese. They live in a low-slung, mid-century modern home off a shaded road in pastoral Carlisle, Massachusetts. They have neatly organized garden plots, certainly not a full-fledged farm, but an abundant, intensive operation. Tricia’s small herd of gentle and curious Oberhasli goats live in an immaculate, fenced-in barn just opposite the house. The compact cheese-making lab, with its custom equipment designed by Tricia, is tucked under the house below a gracious patio with an outdoor oven. It is a farmstead, reinterpreted in 21st century, suburban terms. Tricia Smith has developed a model of small-scale, cheese-making in a high-end bedroom community. At Rialto, we serve Tricia's cheeses on our cheese plate. Our Guerrilla Grillers had been clambering for a trip to see where these delicate mini-tommes came from. The sign-up sheet was posted, quickly filled, and we were off. Wearing both sweaters and sunscreen, we arrived at the Farmstead with the first gusts of fall. We passed no neon signs or aluminum sided-houses on the way out there. Instead, we drove by Ralph Waldo Emerson’s house and reflected on what he and his friends, Thoreau, Hawthorne and the Alcotts, would think of today’s “eat local” movement. Would they think we were too earnest? Would they think it odd that we had ever parted from these traditions? Either way, we were off to enjoy a special feast with food made by local friends. I remembered something I had once read by Emerson: ”Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you.” It seemed that Tricia was living by this axiom. She brought together her degrees in engineering and anthropology to shape her work with the goats. The cheese lab had all the dials and thermometers and precision of an engineer’s lab. The barn hosted a micro, goat culture, where Tricia understood the nuanced relationships between mothers and daughters, sisters and brothers. Perhaps no career-counselor at MIT (Tricia's alma mater) would have recommended “cheese-making” to Tricia as the right path but it seemed that it was the perfect way to engage her varied skills. Wearing delicate, embroidered, L.L. Bean-style collars with names like “Lea” and "Ada”, the goats seemed like the next generation of Little Women. Their wide-set eyes, slightly cocked faces and nuzzling noses made it hard not to anthropomorphize the whole herd. It was clear they were family to Tricia. She cares for her happy animals with extraordinary care. And it shows. Tricia told us that her unpasteurized milk has far less bacteria than most pasteurized milk. A clean, comfortable living space allow the animals to live an unstressed life and produce milk that is healthy and delicious. As we entered the sterile cheese-making lab, we took off our shoes, washed our hands and held our breath, hoping we would not contaminate anything that Tricia and her goats had worked so hard to produce. We watched as she measured, weighed and tested. Some of us carefully helped her ladle milk into forms. Her studied hard work has paid off – her cheeses win top honors with their lemony and slightly earthy flavor.
Tricia's cheeses Earlier that morning (around 6 am) Michael had prepared the outdoor oven. This required not just building the fire but also calling the local fire department to warn them lest they think suburban Carlisle had an early morning smoker. Michael is both an accomplished engineer and baker. Tricia and Michael had worked together as engineers for many years. On the weekends, the couple would often hop on a tandem bike and visit state fairs. On their outings Tricia was inexplicably drawn to the goats. She followed her instincts, and the cheese venture was born. We had heard of Michael's bread-making skills and were looking forward to learning from him. By the time we got there, the floor of the oven measured 800°F and 1000°F in the dome. We were off to a hot start.
The outdoor oven Our group gathered on the patio in front of the arched oven. There were baskets of basil, green and purple tomatillos and sweet ground cherries in their husks. A bag of corn straight from Verrill Farm in Concord was leaning against the oven. In addition to the Rialto guerrilla grillers, Tricia and Michael had invited some of their food-loving friends. Jen of Backyard Birds, who we’d met in Dracut, and her husband Pete of Backyard Birds had brought four different kinds of chickens—Cornish Cross, Red Bro, Multi-colored, and Kosher King. They had blanched the chicken feet and marinated the hearts in a soy, ginger and garlic sauce. Annette and John from Allandale Farm brought an enormous box of the season’s first delicata squash.
Shapely delicata squash
Jim, an opthamologist friend of Jen and Pete’s, provided wonderful Pinot Noirs. Linda and John, who support the Lexington Farmers Market, brought locally-made vanilla extract. It was going to be quite a feast. A pied piper quality had begun to emerge from these grilling adventures as we collected people along the way.
Michael with vegetables In addition to learning about Tricia’s cheese making, we had wanted to taste test the different chicken varieties. Per Jen’s suggestion, we simply seasoned half of each bird with salt and pepper. We sexed up the second half with basil and prosciutto under the skin and a marinade of garlic, fennel seeds and hot red pepper flakes. We quartered the birds, marked them with tooth picks so we could keep track of the different varieties and fed them into the hot oven.
Chickens - on the board and in the oven
We split the squash, took out the seeds and rubbed it with garlic, evoo, mustard seeds and balsamic vinegar. In they went as well. The unhusked corn was thrown on the grill and covered. Once the husks blackened, we let them steam for a few minutes off the heat. With the husks pulled back, the silk slid right off and we smeared the yellow cobs with more evoo, lime juice and chopped basil.
Corn - on the grill and off
Seasoned and grilled, the chicken feet were all crispy deliciousness once you got over thinking of them as arthritic old hands. The chicken hearts were not for the faint of heart but were tender, smokey and oh-so yummy. Who knew a chicken had such a big heart?
Hearts and bones All the food was ready, but no one was willing to dig in until Tricia ascended from the lab. When she did, we ate with gusto and glee. We loved all the birds and to be honest, did not do a serious, scientific taste test. It was too much fun just eating. But the favorite bird for texture and flavor was the Redbro with its rich, tender and, slightly darker, meat.
Scientific notes on four chicken varieties Food tastes better when you know where it comes from. It tastes even better when you are in the place it comes from with the people who made it.
The hosts - Pete and Jen and Tricia and Michael
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