When I think of England, it’s often through the prism of London, which is a wold-class city crammed with culture, excitement, and people. So it’s a breathtaking surprise when I find myself in the middle of the English Country-side.
I spent yesterday and this morning at Bailey farm, a lovingly ramshackle collection of functional stone farm buildings and the central modern house, overlooking a pasture-and-woodland valley.
Last night I helped out in the vegetable garden, albeit briefly, and did a very good job of eating the cheese, roast duck, and apple-blackberry crumble that was served for dinner. The farm is owned by Mary and Tom, and Mary is Mary Quicke of Quicke’s Cheddar, and is one of the places foodies might consider a heavenly afterlife.
If you’ve ever gone to Whole Foods in America and purchased Borough Market Cheddar, it was made by either Mary or her employees labour. I was given a tour of the dairy this morning, and it was like being in those TV documentaries about how Cheese is made. Except I was really in it, wearing a blue hair-net and smock and shoe-covers, and smelling the curds and whey and tasting the cheese half-way through the process (when it was at squeaky-cheese stage). I saw the fields her own cattle graze, the pipes the milk flows through, the vats it is whatevered in (still not too sure about the exact mechanics) and then cut, pressed, washed, and cheddared (which is a noun and a verb).
We walked through the storage rooms where it is aged and dried in cheesecloth, which is called cheesecloth for a good reason. And then I bought a few kilos for my relatives who live nearby.
I returned to the farm-house to pick up my stuff and connect to the outside world through the internet, but as I sit here writing I feel once again in awe of the magnificent countryside. I’ve spent a lot of time hiking through France, but think I’ll have to return to the West Country (the South-west of England) for my next hike. It might lack the fearful chasms of the Alps, but it possesses a peaceful, simple splendor that’s hard to ignore.
Great entries, Stony! I refer to this one and the one about Cheddar Gorge. You write really well and managed to capture the magic of the West Country.