Story Time at Clatter Ridge Farm

Life to me is like a dinner party that I don’t ever want to end. Everyone I have ever cared about is seated at the table next to me. I am surrounded with friendship and immersed in love. The food is phenomenal (all grown locally and sustainably of course.) The beeswax candle on the table flickers, and smells divine, but it never melts. A gentle fire crackles in the fireplace nearby. A nostalgic playlist sets the mood and reminds us of all the good times we’ve had together. Toasts are being made and the conversation flows easily. The meal glides seamlessly from one course to the next. I never feel full; the food is just endlessly enjoyable.And then, one by one, the people I love begin to leave.No one was surprised by my parents’ departure, least of all not me. We could all see it coming. Their shoulders were slumped and their eyes were glazing over. They were profoundly tired and it was getting late. I desperately wanted them to stay but I knew it was time to let them go. After they left, we raised a glass and toasted their life, their love, their friendship, and their legacy. At some point we all leaned in a little to fill the gap their absence created, and the evening moved on.Since then, many friends and family have said their goodbyes and taken their leave. One by one. We raised our glasses, toasted their departure, leaned in a little and the evening moved on.There were loved ones too, that just vanished with no warning at all. They never said anything, I had only looked away for a moment and when I turned back, they were gone. We all expressed our shock and sorrow and leaned in a bit and did our best to carry on.My mom always told us to take the Christmas tree down while it was still green and to not be the last person at a party to leave. Lately, I’ve become painfully aware of all those empty places at the table. When I noticed the hostess starting to yawn and look my way, I knew I’d overstayed and that she was about to ask me to go. But instead, she just smiled and asked if I wanted another slice of pie.Perhaps a little too enthusiastically I said “yes please! At least one more- and some ice cream too, if there’s room on the side”I raised my fork and settled back in. Though my table is definitely getting smaller, I’m still in no hurry to leave. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clatterridgefarm.substack.com

We had several lambs born this week. Most of them are very healthy and full of beans, but as always, we have a couple whose commitment to staying alive is dubious at best. I had a vet tell me once, “sheep are born looking for a way to die.” At the time I thought he was terribly cynical, but sometimes I think he might be right. As wonderful as newborn lambs are – there is an inordinate amount of stress for the first few days of their lives.On the other hand, as if not to be outdone by the lambs once again, our shiitakes have woken up from their winter’s slumber and hit the ground running. Mushroom farming is, in fact, the perfect antidote to livestock farming. It is, by comparison, a completely stress-free endeavor. When I finish up in the mushroom yard at the end of the day - I just walk away. When I return in the morning, the logs are all exactly as I left them. Always. The mushrooms never escape, they never misbehave, and they never get sick. Best of all, the only predators I have to contend with are; a squirrel who has developed an expensive taste for shiitakes, a chipmunk that has a fondness for our chestnut mushrooms, and my sister, who lives next door.We have over 1,000 logs inoculated with various types of mushrooms. We have Shiitake, Oyster, Lion’s Mane, Comb Tooth, Chestnut, Maitake, Chicken of the Woods, and Turkey Tail. We also have raised beds inoculated with Morels, Almond Agaricus and Wine Caps.Each type of mushroom has its own culinary preferences and distinct personality. Shiitakes prefer oak logs but are aggressive and will quickly take over most any hardwood. Hericium mushrooms (lion’s mane and comb tooth) are the most finicky. They prefer beech trees and sugar maples and are so slow to colonize a log, I’m not sure how they have succeeded as well as they have “in the wild”. When we inoculate logs with any Hericium strain, we use twice the amount of spore (mushroom seed), otherwise another mushroom will undoubtably take over.Wine caps are the least fussy about what they eat and are definitely the most gregarious of all the mushrooms we’ve raised. They’ve quickly spread throughout our mushroom yard and are happily commingling with all the others.Even within the same species, different strains fruit at different times. Our cool weather shiitakes are fruiting now but will slow down when the temperatures get more summerlike. That’s when our warm weather strains take over and get us through the farmer’s market season.Highly prized in Japanese cooking, the first and last shiitakes to fruit each season are the Donkos. The fluctuating temperatures of spring and fall weather stresses the cool season mushroom out and intensifies their flavor. Like the arrival of our first lamb in the spring, Donkos are a distinct marker of changing seasons.Our two border collies always accompany me to the mushroom yard but quickly settle in for the duration. Of all the illogical things I do on a daily basis, moving logs from one pile to another is clearly beyond their comprehension. They know their services won’t be needed but they don’t let me out of their sight. Each dog resting with one eye open, they watch carefully just in case any of our logs look like they are in need of herding.Welcome to our sweet, precious lambs – I look forward to some seriously raucous days ahead!Welcome Donkos and the start of another mushroom season.And, of course, welcome Spring - the beginning of everything. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit clatterridgefarm.substack.com