On Growing a Farmer: How I Learned to Live Off the Land by Kurt Timmermeister (Norton, $24.95, 9780393070859)
We've all had this thought: "Enough. I must make a change. I will buy a farm. I can live off the land." But do you know anyone who really has? Meet Kurt Timmermeister.
I have known of Kurt for years. I regularly went to his gem of a café called Septième in the Belltown neighborhood of Seattle, sipped lattes out of a bowl and wondered how he could produce such amazing baked goods in one of the tiniest kitchens I'd ever seen.
Eventually he expanded to a place with a bigger kitchen and added a full menu. There Kurt began to be troubled by the cases of Cryovac-packaged chicken breasts that piled up in the kitchen, an example of the disconnect between people and where their food comes from. It was during this time that he bought a farm on Vashon Island, a short ferry ride from Seattle.
In the beginning, it was not much of a farm: four acres, most of which were covered in blackberry brambles, a rat- and ivy-infested log cabin, some historic greenhouses and a chicken house. As a bonus, the property also included some 16 broken-down, rusty cars.
Kurt lived in the chicken house while he slowly cleared the land, got rid of all the junk, made the cabin livable and uncovered the wonders in his yard. He dreamt of having cows and goats and selling vegetables. The more he watched his big restaurant flourish, the less he wanted to eat at it.
So he sold his restaurant and dedicated himself fulltime to "growing a farmer," as his lovely book just out is titled.
In the book, we learn how to keep bees, make cider and vinegar, the importance of milking cows, the ruthless nature of chickens, the wiliness of goats and how to butcher a pig. Kurt exudes respect for everything he does. "Nature is cruel," he writes. "Farming has brought me close to the wonders and joys of nature, but also to the dirt and death that make them possible." Through his experiences, we come to reconsider where our food comes from and the importance of eating locally.
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| On enjoying a farmer's bounty: Stesha Brandon of the University Book Store and Rick Simonson of Elliott Bay Book Company. |
On a misty grey Seattle Saturday this past November, Kurt welcomed a group of booksellers, journalists and me to his farm to discuss the book and have lunch. I brought my seven year-old daughter, Lily.
Lily and I marveled at the cows, ran races around the raised beds of kale and peered into the chicken tractor. Lily's favorite part was chasing around Kurt's dogs.
We dined on Kurt's hand-crafted cheese, copa, pâté, squash soup, pappardelle with farm fresh eggs tossed with pork and cheese. Lily and I couldn't believe his mind-blowing butter. While we ate, we discussed Kurt's book. After stuffing ourselves on the amazing food, we all wondered when Kurt would come out with a cookbook. A week later, when I offered Lily butter with her bread, she said, "Mommy. There is no other butter that matters after Mr. Kurt's."
On Growing a Farmer is refreshingly not in the Peter Mayle style of "I've moved to this wacky place and here are all the zany stories of these people who live here." There are some parts that are incredibly beautiful that show us the wonders of nature (oh how I suddenly yearn for bees and baby lambs!) and some passages that are astoundingly brutal. Do not shelve this book back in the gardening section. It belongs with Michael Pollan's books. Or even better, make a new section. Call it "Be a Respectful Person and Do Things That Are Good for the World that Are Fun and Cool Without Being Preachy." And then put On Growing a Farmer front and center and enjoy finding the others to go with it.--Jenn Risko