Category: Goats

RT holding tiny Black Copper Marans chick

By this time of year it seems that spring will never come to Middle Tennessee. The landscape is an endless wash of grey, and every tease of warmth is quickly followed by chill winds and bleak winter rain. We even had snow again last weekend, brought along on an icy northern cloud that whipped through the state in a matter of hours and left one to ten inches of white in its wake. Now, the southern winter weather is by no means a competitor for the Buffalo-Rochester winters of my early childhood, but the cold grey days add up for all of us and make us wonder when spring will begin creeping over the landscape to bring us some green relief.

All is not lifeless and asleep, though: all across the countryside tiny new lives are arriving, harbingers of the coming season. In mid-February I made my third visit to Bonnie Blue Farm to witness kidding season in all its glory. The weather made its usual ups and downs during my stay, but nothing stopped the lovely ladies from their business of bringing tiny newborn kids to the farm.

Kidding season is a busy time for a working goat dairy. Along with the daily tasks of milking, feeding and caring for fifty goats; creating delicious, fresh cheeses and getting them to market comes the added responsibility of tending to new mothers and their young. But before the kidding comes the waiting . . .

Sugar waits for her goat kids to be born

Goat does do not always cooperate with their scheduled due dates. They also do not coordinate kidding times with other farm tasks. This means plenty of watching and waiting, and just when you think things are going to quiet down - -

“Mind if I nibble on your ear?” –Healthy young Nubian twins

Surprise!

I was fortunate to witness the births of two sets of beautiful Nubian goat twins, each with one buckling and one doeling. Luckily, both births went quickly and uneventfully. As any farmer can tell you, though, things do not always go smoothly, and farming with animals has its share of tragedies. Like Life itself, though, Bonnie Blue Farm moves through the beauty and tragedy of kidding season in its own mysterious rhythm, and even suffering and death have their time and season.

Young Saanen doelings in motion

The Jenotopia household has been full of excitement as well: we have tiny chicks hatching in new incubators, and we now have two brooder cages of babies basking and playing under heat lamps. The little fellow in the top picture of this post came into the world on February 26 with a tiny peck from inside his dark brown egg:

Marans chick pipping, February 26

As chickens approach Day 21 of their incubation, they will move into hatching position facing the large end of the egg. During this time they pierce the air cell at the end of the egg, and you can begin to hear them peeping from inside the egg! Next comes the “pip”—the chick makes a sharp peck in the shell itself and samples outside air for the first time. Usually the chick rests for several hours while it converts to pulmonary respiration and finishes absorbing the last of the yolk sac.

When it is ready, the chick will then start “zipping” the shell by making a line of pecks at beak level, turning inside the shell and continuing the line until it can pop the bottom of the shell open in a heroic effort that exhausts all its energy.

Tiny newborn Marans chick lies exhausted after hatching

The tired, wet chick will rest again and then begin to crawl around and learn to use its tiny muscles. A few more short hours will find a fluffed chick wobbling around looking for its siblings!

Our new chicks have already grown quickly, with the first batch of Ameraucana chicks over three times the size of its week-younger French Marans neighbors.

Lovely group of buff Ameraucana chicks at two days, February 21

The chicks will begin growing feathers on their tiny wings first:

Tiny wing feathers already beginning to grow at four days of age

And in another week we may be able to start telling the difference between the pullets and cockerels (girls and boys). The Ameraucana females will lay blue-tinted eggs when they are all grown up, about five months of age or so. Whether they are male or female, though, they are sure to be beautiful!

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I have seen forty spring seasons come and go, and no matter how well I think I understand the ebb and flow of Life I continue to be astonished by it. The act of witnessing the miracle of newborns entering this world still renders me a little child – tongue-tied, helpless, awestruck at the precious fragility and amazing resilience of tiny lives taking their places in the Great Circle. I am humbled by the Miracle whose spark I still cannot explain, though I have read hundreds of thousands of pages of science and math and philosophy and religion.

I enjoy my great privilege of welcoming these little ones into the remains of another Tennessee winter, and I know that very soon now the daffodils will unfold in the front yard, and the first tinge of green will creep across the landscape. The rest of the migratory birds will return to build nests, and the night air will be filled with the sound of frogs at the creek. The chicks and kid goats will scamper and play and grow, warm summer will be here before I know it, and that sweet rhythm of Life will roll on in its beauty and mystery while I hang on, childlike, and enjoy the ride.

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What? . . .

If you would like to know more about where I purchased my Ameraucana eggs, please visit talented breeder and regional Ameraucana Breeder Club Director Jean Ribbeck at http://home.sprynet.com/~rribbeck/ .

If you would like to read more about chickens, have questions about poultry health, want to find other poultry enthusiasts, or wish to find rare or unusual birds for sale, I highly recommend the wonderful Backyard Chickens Forum, http://www.backyardchickens.com/forum/index.php .

If you are in Tennessee and would like to find out where to find award-winning Bonnie Blue Farm cheeses – or perhaps even visit the farm and stay in Gayle and Jim’s lovely guest cabin, visit http://www.bonniebluefarm.com/ .

The mundane world of suburbia may have settled back around me in the wake of my Bonnie Blue Farm weekend, but I haven’t relinquished my fond memories of goats, butterflies and clear running streams.

Bonnie Blue napping nannies

I have shared most of my precious artisan goat cheese, and only squirreled a bit away for myself. The very best way to enjoy these very special cheeses, of course, is by themselves at room temperature; I prefer to not even have the distraction of a baguette or cracker. However, as with last week’s Spinach-Fêta Tarts, there are also plenty of recipes out there that take advantage of the impossibly creamy texture of goat cheese.

Chèvre (”goat” in French) is simply a generic term for goat’s milk cheese. I personally use this term for fresh, soft goat cheese that has not otherwise been named. One of my favorite ways to enjoy fresh chèvre is by adding a bit of olive oil, rosemary, lemon rind, and crushed fennel seeds (if you have a mortar and pestle lying around your kitchen, this is a great chance to bring it out and actually use it). The combination of these flavors with the cheese is delicious, and I think it is a wonderful spring dish.

Chèvre marinating in a pint jar: will I be able to wait two to three days for the flavors to marry?

Sometimes I will even marinate the chèvre in jars with all these ingredients, giving them a few days (or even a week) to work their wiles on the chèvre until it is infused with lemony goodness. When I am ready to serve I will let it come to room temperature, then pour the whole jar into a shallow dish. Add a basket of toasted baguette slices, a few friends, and I have all the makings for a perfect gathering.

Sampling of lemon-rosemary chèvre

Click here for my recipe for Lemon-Rosemary Chèvre. This is a lovely gift for a cheese-loving friend; you can use decorative jars and add your own little gift tags to make it adorable as well as delicious. Hope you enjoy!

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I have been inspired in the wake of my visit to Bonnie Blue Farm, and before my bags were unpacked I was in the kitchen working on just the recipe for these beautiful, fresh goat cheeses.

Deliciously rich spinach-fêta tarts

I developed a lovely, rich, creamy Spinach-Fêta Tart that incorporated Bonnie Blue’s delicious fêta cheese with baby spinach and fresh eggs from my Spoiled Suburban Hens. I wrote down the recipe against my own natural tendencies just so I could share it with you. Even if you don’t have access to fresh goat cheese you can still make this tart with a wide range of sheep fêtas from your local grocery; you might want to experiment a little to find a type that has just the right flavor for your personal taste.

I happened to have a bottle of 2005 dry Frascati (Fontana Candida) in the refrigerator, and it turned out to be delightful with this tart. Frascati is an Italian white wine from the area around Rome, and it is made with a blend of three very ancient grape varietals (Trebbiano, Malvasia, and a grape simply called Greco). It was light, floral but not too sweet, and it perfectly balanced the richness of the tart ~ a complete accident of Fate that turned out in my favor. If you pair this tart with wine, you might choose something similarly light; even a sparkling wine would be nice.

Hope you enjoy the recipe!

Jen

Beautiful cheese wheel before scrubbing

Cheese is beautiful. It is magical. Mysterious. It harnesses all the best powers of Nature in its transformation of humble milk into sublime, pungent goodness ~ and, as I do the winemaker-magician, I hold the cheesemaker in the highest esteem. They who hold the keys to these doors of mystery hold great sway over my life and personal happiness.

You will begin to understand, then, the happiness with which I entered the cheesemaking studio at Bonnie Blue Farm. I entered with all the reverence due to this temple of cheesemaking, hoping perhaps some of its magic would linger on me after I left.

But before the temple came another goat walk. And a few chores. (Come on, I have something like 400 pictures of this trip. You will just have to bear with me.)

After a beautiful morning walk around some of the farm roads, Gayle invited me to join her for the afternoon “goat walk.” As she made her way to the gate at the front of the property, the goats began filing along toward the gate ~ as usual, they all seemed to know just what to do! They looked just beautiful against the deep green grass in the spring sunlight as they walked ~

and walked ~

And finally came to a stop, waiting for me to put down the camera and let them out.

The whole crew then headed down the road. It was quite a sight with goats trotting along, heads bobbing ~ and the sound of a hundred tiny hooves pattering along on the dirt.

We crossed the clear, cool creek ~

~ and headed up into the hillside pastures.

As we walked, Gayle explained that she liked to do this not only to exercise the goats, but also to vary their browsing choices. The goats stopped along the way to munch on tender honeysuckle leaves, grasses, and even pine needles and bark. This variation in their diet was not only healthy for them, but Gayle felt it increased the quality of the milk ~ and by extension, the quality of the cheese.

The goats certainly enjoyed their time wandering the hills; they ate and frisked and explored, and there was even a bit of sparring ~

The sun shone silently on the fields, only occasionally broken by the shadow of a bird lazily winging overhead. I sensed a deep contentment, whether from Gayle or her goats I do not know. In the valley that afternoon Time seemed to stop, or at least slow, and I felt the last vestiges of city stress ebb away to the sound of goats chewing on warm grass.

Just when I thought the afternoon couldn’t get any better, Gayle informed me we were going to visit the cheese. I may have genuflected; I’m not really sure.

Like the milking parlor, the Bonnie Blue Farm cheese studio is clean, modern, and full of very good things. The Tanners make fresh chevre ~

~ and they are also making some aged cheeses. These beautiful Goudas ~

~ will in a few months’ time have earned a beautiful gnarly rind and complex flavor. As always, though, the real proof of success is in the taste. And what taste! I sampled precious flakes of Parker, a Gouda-style cheese, and Tomme, a creamy, semi-soft French style cheese. The older Parker was beautiful and nutlike, with a lovely complexity, especially toward the rind. The Tomme was creamier and lighter in color, and offered a more forward taste that I absolutely loved. The chevre was delicate, perfectly-textured, and so fresh! I also enjoyed the fêta, with its salty tang and impossible creaminess. (I have special plans for that one.)

I had now been brought full-circle through the production cycle at the farm. From goat kid to fresh cheese, Gayle and Jim cared for their goats and shepherded the production process ~ and through this hard work they had carved out lives of meaning in the beautiful wilderness of southwest Tennessee. As I drove back to the suburbs the next day, I thought back through everything I had seen and done that long weekend; I wondered what it meant, and how much of it would stay with me and how much would disappear once my feet hit concrete again. I had seen my beloved cheese go from this ~

~ to this,

~ and suddenly it held more meaning than it ever had before. When I invited BD and Miss Pat to an impromptu cheese tasting the next day, everything naturally tasted incredible, but I could now appreciate the sun and the grass, the flowing creek and the many days of walks in the hills in every precious bite of cheese.

Clockwise from upper left: Bonnie Blue Farm Tomme, Parker, fêta, garlic-chive chevre, and plain chevre.

I knew what had gone into its preparation. I had witnessed the labor and the love, and to me this artisan cheese would never just be another product on the shelf. I also have plenty of thinking to do about how to go about seeking just a little bit of the meaning Jim and Gayle have found in their own lives.

But that’s OK. I have two great examples, and to them I am most grateful.

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I have already made my very own Bonnie Blue Farm cheese creation ~ check out the Spinach-Fêta Tarts!

Pretty maids all in a row

The girls at Bonnie Blue Farm knew their job. With the handy series of chutes and holding pens, six goats at a time waited patiently for their turn in the milking parlor. The door opened, and the next group filed in to enjoy dinner and release its burden of milk.

Just like clockwork: goats walk up the ramp to the milking parlor

Next crew awaits its turn for milking

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The Tanners designed a beautiful, clean and efficient milking parlor that looked for all the world like a scaled-down replica of the type of facility one might find at any large dairy operation. With stainless steel equipment, tile floors and walls, the dairy was cool and squeaky-clean. I certainly didn’t expect a licensed dairy to produce milk in a hot, dusty, fly-ridden old barn, but I was still impressed.

Milking time also proved to be yet another opportunity for Gayle to inspect the girls. As she prepared the bewildering array of hoses, buckets and bins, she moved along the line and carefully wiped down each udder before declaring what extra ration of food each goat should receive. Jim and I filled feed buckets and Gayle began the milking while her eagle eye carefully checked hoof and coat condition, udder health, found the occasional tick, and probably did a million other things this flatlander wasn’t even aware of. When the line of goats finished milking and munching, each teat was dipped in an iodine solution to prevent infection from entering the udder. The girls were then sent on their way through the exit door, and the next group entered as I trotted along the row of buckets with my feed can. Milking at the farm takes about an hour, and it is performed morning and night: this is not an occupation for folks who like an unplanned lifestyle!

Gayle hand-milking

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At one point I took a turn at the wheel and tried a bit of hand-milking. The goat’s udder was surprisingly warm, and despite my fear of pinching or pulling too hard, I managed to elicit some milk into the bucket. As I suspected, it was harder than Gayle made it look, and I imagined if I did this often enough I would be able to palm a basketball or use my pinky to crack walnuts.

Gayle milking: these are the hands I want.

The rich milk was perfectly white and frothy as it filled the bucket, and I was suddenly gripped by the desire for a double cappuccino.

Where’s that cappuccino?

The spring sun was setting as we finished, and the sounds of animals quietly munching hay blended with the sounds of frogs down at the creek as evening drew peacefully in at Bonnie Blue Farm. I leaned on the gate and thought of my own evenings in suburbia surrounded by blaring televisions and radios and cars honking, neighbor dogs and lawnmowers and phones ringing, and where did I put the skirt I need for work tomorrow? The clarity of this evening was a striking contrast. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m on vacation, I reasoned. Surely this life has its own stresses. I imagined collecting animals in the pouring rain; having the power go out in winter ice storms; barns full of sick animals, and even the occasional death; wondering if there would be enough money for hay in the winter. I even threw in a few rattlesnakes for good measure. There: changing suburban life for country life was just changing one set of problems for another.

Right?

Afternoon sun on the cabin porch

The Tanners generously shared their evening with me at the cabin, where we ended the day by enjoying some farmstead cheese, a splash of wine, and a sampling of home-smoked bacon from a local farm. The pig was fed on whey from Bonnie Blue Farm, and the rich taste of the meat was perfect with the complex, nutlike cheese and my little Lodi Zinfandel. We watched videos and talked cheese until Orion arched high overhead through the trees, and I slept soundly until the morning sound of hungry goats pierced my dreams of aged Parker and creamy Tomme.

Friends relaxing in the barn

[to be continued]

Click here to continue to Part III ~