It often seems like a never ending challenge to keep up with the chores, goals and tasks associated with building a sustainable homestead. There is always more work needing to be done than there is time to do it, and every trip up to the farm means work. I'm not sure we have ever set foot on the place without leaving utterly exhausted and sore. Yet all work and no play makes for good misery, so it is in this spirit that once a year, in the fall, we pause for celebration. Celebration of life, the harvest and all of our accomplishments over the previous year.
This (our second) annual celebration is not without much work itself, but the work seems easier to shoulder when done in the spirit of thanksgiving and yes, a little sense of pride. Indeed, we have accomplished a lot this past year, and it felt good to take pause and share an evening meal with friends, family and neighbors.
When we started planning this year's event, I knew I wanted to serve old-fashioned pulled pork, ribs and chicken. I fondly remember long nights in the fall with my grandfather cooking in preparation for family night at the Mason's lodge. It was slow and relaxing, not hard work at all really, and the food was simply amazing. There is nothing like the taste and tenderness imparted to meat by a low temperature smoke-filled pit. So a few weeks prior I rounded up some leftover concrete blocks and started working through design layouts to create a functional BBQ pit. After several attempts I finally settled on a layout that seemed to fit the bill, and was actually quite happy with it.
There is more to the story for sure as at least initially, Linda wasn't very agreeable that such lengths were necessary when a single row of blocks and some charcoal would make a suitable grill. At one point, she proceeded to re-arrange my design to demonstrate her idea. It's not that I didn't understand what she was saying, I really just wanted to do it my way. I had, after all, spent many hours thinking and preparing for the challenge.
The thing is, we southerners actually have a very sophisticated palette. We can taste the difference between a bag of charcoal and a stately hickory tree as a fuel source. Not to mention that one of the best, if not the best BBQ shack in the state is right down the road and the owners were expected to come. But sometimes you just have to sit there patiently and let a woman speak her mind and only then can you can go on about your business. So afterwards I re-re-arranged the blocks the way I wanted them and felt the pressure grow as I dismissed her suggestion, fully aware that this could get ugly if I messed it up.
Needless to say, I was completely thrilled when I fired up the pit at 7am on that frosty morning and the temperature slowly rose to 250 degrees and held there. All day long, there was hardly more than a twenty degree swing in temperature, and it worked better than even I expected. It certainly looks like a redneck oven, and there was considerable risk involved, but it cooked like Martha Stewart on steroids.
I usually make the point right up front that I don't consider myself a master of any given trade, and cooking is no exception. But like Henry Ford, I know how to find people who do. Case in point, if you want to know how to cook BBQ, learn from the man who has won more championships than anyone else, ever. Myron Mixon is that man. Although I have never met him, his book "Smokin with Myron" is a worthy investment when it comes to how to prepare and smoke meat. I used both his chicken and pork rub recipe and it was a home run. His method of incorporating apple juice for the last several hours was another great tidbit of information. Truth be told, I have never smoked meat on such a scale, and further truth, I've only smoked meat once before in my life. It took a quite a few favorable comments before I realized the guests weren't just being polite when they said it was good food, it really was good.
Several weeks prior we put up the gazebo, one of Linda's prized embellishments on the farm. She got it a couple years ago and it was quite impressive. Unfortunately a few weeks ago a storm rolled through the valley and we arrived one day to find it a twisted pile of metal and fabric, laying in and around the creek. After realizing it was not repairable, we got another shelter, this time a big strong one that took considerable work to erect. Yet once again, by the end of the day Sunday a strong wind blew it over as we were cleaning up. This time, however, it wasn't destroyed completely, although I'll be searching spare parts catalogs looking for a replacement pipe for one that bent.
We also did another wine tasting this year and brought out samples from the five 2009 series vintage. Admittedly, they are not quite there yet but I see forward momentum in the quality and craftsmanship. The results were close, but the Cab was highly praised, slightly behind the Noire Trilogue, which was the chosen favorite.
I then brought out a few mason jars containing a clear liquid home brew with a little more kick which caused a small line of some very interested locals to form. 'Shine has some very deep roots in this part of the country and I was truly a mortal among giants as experienced old men in overalls sipped, smacked lips and pondered the flavor. None of them said much, and I guess that's the way it is supposed to be, but they each nodded and approved with other forms of non-verbal communication. Finally, the highly respectable local legend uttered the only four words I heard him speak all night and said, "ya done good, boy".
Fireworks are still legal here so we purchased about 48 of those ultra loud, high bursting, colorful ones like you see at major events. This has become somewhat of a tradition on the farm, I think because there are so many fireworks stores on the way here that it is never too far from the back of the mind. We followed this with probably my favorite event of the weekend, the release of sky lanterns. Originally, I thought of attaching candles in white paper bags to helium balloons, but during my research I ran across the sky lanterns and it seemed to me that someone had a better idea than my own so I went with it, and used the bags as ground decoration, which also worked out nicely from a visual standpoint.
Earlier in the day Brian and I had cut down a poplar tree and formed the boundary for a large fire pit, which he now piled on about a truck load of seasoned oak causing a rather large fire. We all sat around that fire until well into the night, and one by one the guests who were camping made their way to their tents. The night air was brisk, but considerably warmer than the night before, yet some still found it too cold and sometime in the middle of the night made their way back over to the still glowing embers. Those same embers provided the heat for bacon, sausage, hash browns and pancakes the next morning.
All in all it was a huge success. Of special note is that we finally found the name for the farm by holding a naming competition around the camp fire. Some of the suggestions were more suitable than others, but in the end it was put to a vote and "Star Valley Farms" was the winner. Quite suitable as the night sky view is one of the most beautiful aspects of the property.
One of the most important things about this lifestyle is knowing that you can't do everything yourself. You need friends and neighbors and you need to fit in. These folk don't want somebody from the city moving in and changing things or being snobs. It's important to show respect and to serve those who can make or break you, and to give back a little when you can. That's what being southern is all about. That's what life is all about.
