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Reflecting on the Season

December 13 2017

The winds pick up. The dull grey clouds roll through. Even in the sunlight it doesn’t feel bright and the sun goes down at 4:30 in the afternoon. I had to shut the water down in the kitchen and barns and blow out the lines to prevent freezing and rupturing the pipes. I’m still tying down the vines to prepare the vineyard for its annual hibernation. It’s a different time now. It’s almost hard to imagine summer these days on the farm.

Evidence of Transformation

September 14 2017

I see evidence of transformation in many places. An intricately patterned caterpillar inching its way towards the ideal location to spin its cocoon and then to emerge, a graceful butterfly leaving the torn remnant of its former life behind. A lobster, its flesh pushing outwards beyond the capacity of its rigid carapace. It molts, shedding its shell and begins the next chapter of its life anew. Its new exoskeleton is vulnerable in the early going, growing harder and more protective in time. I think of these creatures in nature and wonder how people show outward signs of transformation.

Watching the Weathervane

September 05 2017

I thought of Mary Poppins looking at the weathervane and seeing the arrow pointing to a new direction. In the movie this was her cue to pack her magical carpet bag and umbrella and move to a new place. I thought of this as I closed the shutters on the loafing barn windows this past Saturday night. I had never thought of doing this all summer as the weather had been warm and stable. Now I was feeling a change. A change of season from summer to fall. In Toronto, this feeling has for years coincided with the labour day weekend and the air show at the CNE. Here in Hillier it is more about the wind picking up and the clouds moving quickly across the night sky, obscuring and then revealing the waxing crescent moon.

A Late-Ripening Summer

If I have the luxury of time, I always opt to take the train. A few years ago my mother gave me a triptych of photographs she had taken from her Viarail seat en route to Montreal from Belleville. It was autumn and the changing colours on the trees were at their dazzling best. In the images one can’t make out the trees though. Rather, the pictures convey a beautiful abstract colour field all blurred together through the motion of the train. I love this triptych and I love taking the train for the feeling the photographs evoke.

Ruth's Cheddar by Land and by Sea

As we moved into the open water it was clear Champ did not enjoy being on the boat. All that pitching and yawing in the swell of Lake Ontario upset his equilibrium and his delicate stomach. He looked at me with these plaintive eyes I had never seen before as if to say “You have to take me back to shore”. Our very considerate host and captain agreed to turn his worthy craft about and we made for Wellington harbour and terra firma for Champ. Safely ensconced in the back seat of the car under the shade of the basswood trees Champ flashed a smile at me as if to say “thanks doggie daddy. Now you run along. I’ll be fine here”.

Terroir Harmonies

As I surveyed the people gathered in the dining room last Saturday evening, I spied Peter and Alice Mennacher. Each Saturday I convey the message that we are exploring the relationships between foods and wines grown in a specific place. It is exciting to me to discover the natural harmonies that exist and to share those harmonies with my guests.

Remembering Aunt Myrtle's Preserves and Donald Ziraldo's Icewine on...

I first started to get interested in canning in the mid seventies, during my apprenticeship in cooking. My great Aunt Myrtle led me down the back stairs of her house, just south of the city limits in Toronto. It was a hot August day and I felt the heat leaving my body as I descended the stairs to the cool depths below. We stood amongst the wooden shelves loaded with mason jars of this year’s production of jams and pickles. I was awestruck by the display. Everything looked so delicious and precious. There in suspended animation, like bottled sunshine, to later grace the table on a dreary February night, stood row after row of mason jars.

Potatoes & Pinot Noir from the PEC Soil

Like wizards with long beards, the seed potatoes languished in the dark, cool cellar. The white beard like root stems forced their way through burlap bags that contained them. They mistake the cool subterranean cellar for the good earth where they yearn to grow. I am in my basement looking for something and the sight of these bearded burlap bags startles me. Somehow they got left behind on potato planting day back in early June.

In Praise of Fermentation

This past weekend was certainly a celebration of fermentation as well. On Saturday evening beginning on the ridge, Dan Sullivan, winemaker at Rosehall Run shared his story of local provenance of wine to a sold out crowd at our summer dinner series. Even though I have known Dan and Lynn Sullivan for many years, I still learned new things as Dan stood and spoke to the wines.

Let's Go to the Water

It is Sunday morning and it is the sound of the creek that brings me around. I remember that last year at this time the creek was dry. No sound. I like to hear the creek. It calms me. I muse about how there used to be a millpond just outside my window. The water held back to form the pond by an earth dam laboriously constructed by hand, one shovelful at a time. Little remains of the dam, built over a hundred years ago or the millrace that controlled the surge of water required to power the turbine inside the mill just downstream from here.

The Shimmering Heat of Summer

The shimmering heat of summer in Southern Ontario is back. The vines feel it. They love it, but they could do without the humidity that comes with it. Humans and vines are alike in this way. Along with the shimmering heat comes the hypnotic drone of the cicadas. Listen for a few moments and you will also hear the bluesy drawl of the mourning dove. You are outdoors with your hands submerged in cool water moving the just harvested leaves of lettuce around allowing the grit to fall to the bottom of the sink, when you hear the dove. You skim the fresh leaves out of the sink and into the spinner to pull the moisture away and now the salad is ready to dress and serve with the cheeses.

Ingredients of the Moment, Foraged and Cultivated

My dog Champ has adapted well to dividing his time between the farm and the city. While in the city he looks forward to his daily walks along the West Toronto Rail Path. This morning, we walked north past the Union-Pearson Express station at Bloor, to Dupont and then back. Champ loves to pause frequently along the way. A fresh blossom caught my eye as I waited for Champ to thoroughly inspect yet another interesting scent in the underbrush. It was the first catalpa flower of the year.

Gently Steering the Ingredients

The last couple of days of tropical heat and humidity have convinced me that we have come through the long, cool, wet spring and have arrived at summer. Shimmering heat and the cacophony of tree frogs and cicadas has replaced damp coolness and sinister, carnivorous May flies. The veil has lifted.

A Cane Raising in the Vineyard

Prince Edward County is a unique place in so many ways. I am reminded of its farming history every time I walk around outside and re-examine the older buildings on my property. Along the creek, near the highway and close to the village road, there is the crumbling ruins of a blacksmith shop and a mill powered at one time by the water flowing in the creek. I also see remnants of the tomato canning factory that was once active here; blanching baskets and labels that read, “Taylor Made” Taylor, the family name of the cannery owners more than 60 years ago.

The Warm Tone of the Cherry Wood

One morning a few years ago, my dad called me to let me know that he had to cut down a large cherry tree that was on their property in Wellington. I think it posed some kind of danger to the house. He had heard about a man with a portable sawmill and called him to come and not only cut the tree down, but saw the trunk into planks for lumber. My dad wanted to know if I wanted to come by the house to watch this operation. I was intrigued right away.

Pond Skating & Summer Planning at J.K. Farm

February 08 2017

The winter landscape on the farm couldn’t be more different from the summer. It is a quiet monochrome, beautiful in its wintry way. I walk out to the vineyard imagining that in just 3 short months, all will be green again.

Warm Autumn Reflections on the Summer Dinner Series

October 17 2016

There was a tang in the air. The leaves on the trees glowed with their Thanksgiving colours that Andy Goldsworthy finds so fascinating. Chase and I made sure there was plenty of firewood around. We would need to get the wood stove going in the loafing barn Saturday evening for the first time all summer. Victoria wanted the Tom Dean “Mercy” burning barrel close to the entrance so that everyone could see the fire from their seats. Crispy Confit of Pork was to be one of the hors d’oeuvres on the ridge so we needed to burn a fire there too.

Reflections on the Season

October 04 2016

So here it is October and nature never ceases to amaze. It was like the garden was somehow in stasis all summer, barely staying alive. Now, with a bit of rain in August and September the garden responds. Several passes through the tomato patch have yielded the deepest red, most beautiful tomatoes that now have been transformed into litres upon litres of sauce, the taste of which is indescribably delicious.

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