October 31, 2012
It’s been over
a year since I sat down and seriously put my thoughts to paper. Last time I was
in Dublin scribbling about my present memories of cookery school and my fears
of what would come. It’s amazing to think that I left Ireland with such a
feeling of uncertainty and to reflect now on what has conjured in the past
13 months. Since then, I managed to work in the Blue Hill at Stone
Barns kitchen and then found my way in to a little pocket of heaven referred to as
Consider Bardwell Farm. I never expected to spend half a year learning
how to make cheese in small town Vermont. Even more, I never
expected to gain such a respect and love for the people and place that make it
one of the best creameries on the east coast. The dynamic that made up that slice of paradise made me smile from the moment I slid those doors open
at 6am to the minute I left. When I did finally say goodbye it was only
possible to walk away knowing that a trip to Europe was around the corner.
Anything less would not have been enough to pull me from there. That’s how much
I loved it. That’s how much I enjoyed learning, working, and laughing at
Consider Bardwell. It took Europe and the everlasting friends of Ballymaloe to
pull me away.
A few weeks
after I finished making Mettowee I arrived in Dublin where it all ended (or
started?) just over a year ago. I met up with Caroline and spent the day
walking the city and visiting two wonderful cheese shops. Both places were
expecting my arrival and upon introductions I was immediately treated to warm
welcomes and an abundance of samples. Both cheesemongers spoke with excitement
and knowledge as they made their way from one wheel to the next. It was pure joy
to just asked questions and happily accept piece after piece of milky
deliciousness. That evening we all went out for drinks and enjoyed the company
of new friends brought together from worlds apart.
The next day
Caroline and I caught an early train to Cork and munched on the cheese and
bread I picked up from Sheridan’s Cheese Shop and Fallon & Byrne. Unpasteurized
fresh goat cheese, Le Napoleon, and a smoked cow cheese that literally tasted
like bacon made the journey even more beautiful. From Cork we would catch a bus
to Ballymaloe Cookery School. We were returning to the place where Caroline and
I met; to one of the most beautiful places I have ever lived and a place where
we made life long friends and gained life long skills. Ballymaloe will forever
be a monumental part of my life and to see it all again, after a years time,
was more special than words can explain. We strolled the gardens, picked
apples, and to top it off Tim Allen spent the day giving us endless goodies
that epitomize the Ballymaloe experience. We left with hands full of lemon
curd, cheese, eggs, and yoghurt all made right there by students just like
us.
Just as I was readjusting to the slanted Irish
accents I found myself off to England and in to the arms of Sophie,
Nicola, Rohan, Ben, and Saffron. My ten-day trip became 3 weeks as I was taken
in to their homes and treated with the love of friends and their family. Also, thanks
to the recently developed friendships of Kate Arding and Maggie Armstrong
I was connected to some of London’s best cheese makers, mongers, and
shops. I spent a full day at the famous Neal’s Yard Dairy and was treated
to an everlasting feast of Europe's finest cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Oh,
I ate an apple too. My cheese-venture continued with a tour of the Neal's Yard
caves as well as mornings spent making cheese with Dominic from Borough Cheese
Company and Bill from Kappacasein. Before I knew it my cooking school reunion
was happily turning in to a full out dairy extravaganza. These exceptional
strangers took me under their wing as if long lost friends reuniting over
the curds and whey of time. It all was so beautiful. From friends to cheese to
afternoon tea at the Wosley and strolls around Convent Gardens; I was
developing quite a little crush on London.
It didn’t help that by week 2 I was comfortably settled in to the
routine of family dinner at Rohan’s and each night becoming more obsessed
with the new British series of Sherlock Holmes. It was getting harder and
harder to think of leaving.
Sadly, like all good things, it was bound to come to an end. On my final
day we took in a few more sites and finished my time in London with a beautiful
meal at Ottolenghi. Each bite of our five dishes solidified why I have, and
continue, to look so highly up to the standards and culinary choices of Yotam
Ottolenghi. It was the perfect ending to a truly remarkable, spontaneous, and
delicious adventure in London.
Netherlands, here I come!
* A special note: To
all of you that made this trip what it was. To those who may never read this or
whom I may never see again. To the friends, strangers, and acquaintances that
didn’t hesitate for a second to welcome this crazy American girl in to their
lives. To you all, I thank you-
endlessly and wholeheartedly. *
