Outstanding in the cold, cold field.

What is the magic of Leicester, NC? When I look out over the fields, hike through the mountains, or just sit on a porch swing and read, a quiet peace descends, blanketing the normal daily stresses and rejuvenating this frazzled mom. Last year, Peter and I visited Leicester for our first Outstanding in the Field dinner at East Fork Farm. This summer, we escaped our house construction craziness at Randall Glen, a fabulous farm hideaway in the mountains of Leicester. And once again, Peter and I journeyed back up the mountains to enjoy our second Outstanding in the Field dinner, this time at Gaining Ground Farm.

There's something about the virgin visit to an Outstanding in the Field dinner. A slight anticipation, an eagerness to learn about the farm and local producers, the experience of dining with strangers under the stars. Last year, as Peter and I drank wine while the moon rose over the meadow, sheep bleating behind our backs, we agreed that we should never go back. Any attempts to replicate that magical evening would fall short. It was perfection.

Of course, though, when tickets went on sale last spring, I couldn't resist. We would attend Outstanding in the Field as seasoned veterans. And this time--we wouldn't forget our plates. Plus, honestly—after a week quarantined with sick kids while Peter was traveling, I was very happy we planned an evening out.

We knew it was going to be chilly in North Carolina, but even with a sweater and boots I was poorly prepared for a dinner in the field. In fact, as we left our car, we noticed the trend of serious winter gear among the other guests. Hats, scarves, coats, gloves...it was as if snow was forecasted. How would the chef keep dinner warm? How the heck were WE going to stay warm? No fear. Sadly, the weather turned our Outstanding in the Field into Dinner in the Barn.

Greeted by Leah, coordinator extraordinaire with the Outstanding in the Field crew, we were welcomed into a smallish outbuilding for champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Of course, I was enamored with the drying herbs and flowers.

 

Looking at the tools used for wreath-making, Peter pointed out that he finally knew a use for our ironing board. What a comical husband I have.

 

Starters:

Charcuterie with Crostini, Lusty Monk Mustard

I confess. I am not a charcuterie fan. I appreciate it from a foodie perspective, but it's just not my thing. I also am not a mustard lover, but I do adore the tagline of Lusty Monk Mustard:

“Indulge. Repent. Repeat.”

Now, that is a slogan by which I can live.

Did you know that in medieval Europe, it was widely believed that mustard was an aphrodisiac? Some monks were forbidden to eat mustard, while other monasteries embraced mustard making and turned it into an art form. How can a former marketing girl not love the brand “Lusty Monk Mustard”? Genius name.

Herbed chocolate lab* canapé, lavender honey, French breakfast radish, microgreens

*A confession. I had no idea that herbed chocolate lab was a cheese. I thought, well, this is odd. Chocolate, radishes, microgreens? Huh. Quite yummy, even if there wasn't any chocolate. Sadly, I ate it before I remembered to take a photo.

Jacques Copinet Brut Champagne NV

A blend of 25% pinot noir and 75% chardonnay grapes from the family estate in Montgenost in the Marne Valley. The grapes are directly harvested by hand from the family vines. Directly savored by many happy guests, including Peter and me.

After searching for patches of sunlight for warmth, we gathered for introductions.

Gaining Ground Farm, the host of our highly anticipated dinner, is an organic haven of produce and heritage breed beef. Farmers Anne and Aaron Grier, a lovely young couple with an 11-month-old baby, farm on family land. When asked about their start on the farm, the couple recounts their early days of living on the land in an old school bus. For three years. (Now, that is dedication to a dream!)

The Griers understand the importance of caring for the land that provides their livelihood. Rotational grazing of the herd of Red Devon cattle, no chemical or synthetic fertilizers, pesticides or herbicides, green manures, and free ranging chicken contribute to balanced, biodiverse land. Along with the produce, Anne interplants flowers among crops to attract pollinators. She creates both fresh floral and dried arrangements.

The guests were led on a brief farm tour, meeting Anne's Jersey milk cows and the flock of free-ranging chickens...

...through the outbuilding filled with curing garlic...

...and to the fields of organic produce.

The Griers sell their produce, flowers, and meat to restaurants, through a CSA, and at several area farmers' markets. Currently, they have 20 CSA members, but by the interest among the guests, I think those numbers will ramp up considerably in the future.

After the tour, we hiked up a small hill to the barn for dinner. “Barn” is quite a misnomer. It was a gorgeous barn-like structure with lovely wood throughout (hickory?), obviously used for events rather than feeding livestock. The tables were arranged in a kind of snail shell design—spiraling continuously outward from the center of the barn. While I was quite happy that we'd be dining inside, I still missed the drama of seeing the tables artistically arranged in the field.

There was something else missing. The founder of Outstanding in the Field, Jim Denevan, a larger than life, cowboy-hat-wearing land artist, was conspicuously absent. Understandable, as the OITF schedule has grown to encompass more than 80 events, including international venues. I'm sure Mr. Denevan needs a few days off. Still, his presence was missed.

 

But the food...well, we knew the food would be exceptional. Once again, we were privileged to eat the delicious creations of Chef William Dissen, owner of The Market Place restaurant in Asheville. (Note to Peter: we must, must go to Asheville to check out The Market Place.) Still, a chef can only be as good as his ingredients—and the producers didn't disappoint.

As we sat, chatting with some relatives of Chef Dissen's, as well as a soon-to-be wed couple across from us, we broke bread. Literally. Farm & Sparrow bakery from Chandler, NC, hand crafts bread and pastries in a wood-fired brick oven. They are renown for their use of heirloom wheat, “Turkey Red,” an old Eastern European grain brought to the states in the 1800s. Using a traditional process, the original whole grain is stone-milled on site the day of baking. The dough is mixed by hand, using a slow fermentation process.

It tasted of history.

It's a good thing that I indulged in several pieces of the bread to soak up the liberally flowing wine. I seriously overindulged. Seriously. To the point of giggles.

I'm ashamed.

Did I mention that I had been home all week with sick kids while Peter was in Barcelona?

But enough about my inebriation, let's get on to the food.

Roasted Wild Mushrooms, Braised Baby Leeks & Looking Glass Chévre

Mixed Greens and Beet Vinaigrette

Commanderie de Peyrassol Rosé 2010

Looking Glass Creamery, founded by Jennifer and Andy Perkins, creates small batches of handmade artisan cheeses from goat and cow milk. The chévre was divine—and the leeks! Oh my. I like leeks, but these babies were scrumptious. And the beet vinaigrette was amazing. I wish I was salad so I could bathe in the vinaigrette. It was that good. (Do you know that I only started eating salad dressing within the past few years? Crazy.)

 

 

Benton's Bacon Wrapped Warren Wilson Pork

Onion Bacon Marmalade

Celery Root and Fennel Salad, Citrus Vinaigrette

Jean-Marc Morey Santenay “Grand Clos” 2006

Truly, how can anyone go wrong with bacon-wrapped pork? Isn't bacon considered the gateway drug of vegetarians? Warren Wilson College is known for students working on campus—in the garden, on the farm, wherever work is needed. Aaron worked on the farm when he attended Warren Wilson, and the pork provided by the college was deliciously tender.

 

Next up was a tasting of heritage Red Devon Beef, the heritage breed raised at Gaining Ground Farm. Served with tomato jam, roasted fingerling, purple, and sweet potatoes, broccoli rabe, whole roasted garlic, and mountain herbs. Perfectly tender, rare, melt-in-your-mouth excellence. When presented with such a lovely meat, I question vegetarianism. (No offense to vegetarians—I often wish I could go without meat. But that evening, I was truly glad to be a omnivore.)

Caprili Brunello di Montalcino 2006

And then, dessert...

Barber Orchard Honey Crisp Apple Tart, Blackberry Preserves, and Crème Fraîche

Raw Milk White Russian

It was an outstanding evening, but with an entirely different vibe than our prior experience. Perhaps it was the battling cell phones at our table, with fellow diners preoccupied with the Clemson (and other) football games. Maybe it was the change of venue. 

Honestly, though, while the food was wonderful, I missed the more intimate meetings with the producers, which we experienced last year. Yes, the producers were recognized at our dinner, with many hoots and applause. But last year, they were introduced around the table, where we had a chance to really talk with them and ask questions. Talking heirloom tomatoes with a farmer last year was one of the highlights of the evening for me.

Or maybe the atmosphere was less charged due to the magical, missing Jim Denevan.

In any case, it was a lovely evening with fantastic service, delectable local foods, and good conversation.

And really, really good wine.

OITF was next heading to Tennessee, with the crew piling aboard the big red and white, 1960s bus to set up a dinner the following day. I can't imagine the energy and coordination it takes to organize several dinners a week for hundreds of guests, all in different states with varying venues, producers, and chefs. It's an amazing, awe-inspiring endeavor.

Leicester continues to beckon, with the turning leaves enticing us to another Randall Glen outing. We're debating how we can squeeze in a mountain outing with all of the October obligations, but one thing is certain—Leicester leaves us all feeling rejuvenated.

Happy Fall, Y'all!

Julie

Outstanding. (In the Field.)

I admit it. I get easily excited. My expectations about an event—whether it's a birthday, Christmas, vacation, outing—often build to colossal proportions. The problem with having huge expectations is—it can set the stage for disappointment.

So, when I read about a farm dinner in North Carolina, my husband was skeptical. Knowing how my enthusiasm takes flight, he envisioned an overpriced rustic meal, swatting mosquitoes while listening to pretentious foodies debate the merits of arugula versus mizuno. Meanwhile, I fantasized about bonding with farmers and talking tomatoes into the wee hours while sipping wine under the stars.

No amount of imagination could prepare us for our blissed-out reality.

The fantasy.
Outstanding in the Field (OITF) is a “roving culinary adventure,” to quote the website. Founded in 1999 by Californian Jim Denevan as a way to connect food lovers with food origins, the elaborate field dinners showcase and honor local farmers, growers, food artisans, and chefs.

Denevan is a dreamer—a chef, land artist, surfer, cowboy-hat-wearing showman. His dinners draw locavores in droves to dine with the folks who raise the meat, grow the tomatoes, bake the bread, and process the cheese. The ingredients for the dinner are local, and diners break bread with the bakers who prepared it.

Denevan and his crew travel the country via the OITF bus, with dinners originating each season in California, cruising their way across the country, then heading back to home base. In the 2010 season, OITF will host 68 dinners, with the majority of the events sold out.

Central to the experience is the long table. It stretches throughout fields, curves within coves, and serpentines through stalks. The long table awaits, outfitted in stark white cloth, spare and minimal to showcase the surroundings. And the food. Oh my. The food.

First...

After dropping the kids off at my sister's house, we raced two hours into Marshall, North Carolina, winding our way up mountains...and wondering how we'd survive our way down after a wine-laden meal. Passing pristine farms and those harboring an abundance of old tires in front yards, we followed the signs to East Fork Farm...waiting for the mountains to open up to farmland.

Of course, when you raise sheep, you don't really require a flat field. Instead, we parked and walked up a hilly road, where our chauffeur awaited.

There's something about a tractor ride that just makes people immediately friendly. Maybe it's the fact that you're basically sitting on a stranger's lap, or maybe it's the intertwining of arms around shoulders to brace for those rough bumps, hoping that your Secret Powder-fresh Scent holds out. Maybe it's the determination to have a great time, based of the price of the tickets. Whatever it is, we became buddies with our tractor-mates before the first sip of wine.

Surprisingly, especially for those of you who know us—we were among the first diners to arrive. Which provided ample opportunity to chat, drink, and start snacking.

Oh. My.

Our first little tasty treat originated a few feet from our gathering place. While we waited for all of the guests to arrive, we gathered in a field near a sheep-filled enclosure, which overlooked a smallish pond. Which had trout.

Which turned into smoked trout rillettes.

Oh. My.

We knew after that first bite my expectations were totally realistic.

The farm (and family).

Have you ever met someone and knew that if only you lived next door, that person would be your instant best friend? Have you ever looked at a child and thought how much she loves everything your own child adores? Did you ever just want to throw rational thinking into the pond with the trout and pick up and move?

Huh. I realize I sound a little stalker-ish.

Honestly, though, you would understand if you met the Robertson family. Stephen, Dawn, and their adorable girls welcomed us to their farm as if we were their dearest friends. Of course, there were 120 diners, so I suppose I'd have competition to be Dawn's new BFF.

East Fork Farm, the Robertson's home and livelihood, is located in the mountains of Madison County, NC, about 25 miles north of Asheville. The farm produces pasture-raised lamb, free-range poultry, rabbit (of which they are developing a prototype for a free-range environment,) and pond-raised trout.  All products are free from added hormones or antibiotics, and the farm is certified Animal Welfare Approved.

The Robertson's commitment to sustainable farming practices produces superior tasting, healthy meat products, while preserving and enhancing the ecological health of the farmland and water. For 13 years, the Robertsons have enjoyed a symbiotic relationship with the land—growing a family business while maintaining their commitment to treat the land with respect.

How can you not love these people?

Can't you imagine Kristen and this sweet pea being best friends?

The field.
After our farm tour (and several glasses of Alain Patriarche, Aligote, Bourgogne 2008), our hosts led us to the field.

The first sight of the long table, slightly curving through the field, sheep grazing on the hill behind, was breathtaking. Then, practicality set in, and I realized I needed to sit with my back to the lambs. Sorry, but I didn't think I could eat their brothers and/or sisters with them watching. I know, I know. Roll your eyes.

There is a lovely Tradition of the Plates at OITF dinners. Guests are asked to bring their own plates to the dinner, providing an eclectic mix of china and earthenware. The couple across the table from us stopped by an antique store and bought two plates. The woman's family had collected china by this particular American china manufacturer for three generations, and she delighted in telling me all about her collection.

Peter and I brought...nothing.

We forgot plates in our rush to grab blue blankey, Nintendo DSs, and books for the kids to take to their aunt's house.

No fear. The OITF crew provides extra plates for slackers like us. My plate reminded me of a grandmother's china...Peter's was decorated with seashells. Perfect.

Whew. I worried we might be eating off of non-sustainable Chinette.

The food.
Oh, the food. My words will never do it justice, and I fear the photographs won't, either. I wish you could smell and taste each dish and its wine pairing through your monitor...

Wild mushroom tart, mountain basil, mesclun greens, roasted beet vinaigrette, mixed organic radishes.
Jobard Chardonnay, Rully, Premier Cru 2007

Grilled leg of lamb, tomato jam, grilled corn, edamame and sweet pepper salad
Francois LeClerc, Pinot Noir
Gevrey-Chambertin Corbeaux, Premier Cru 2006


(Oops. I'm afraid I ate this dish before I could take a photo.)
Rabbit gumbo, okra, roasted fingerlings, rainbow Swiss chard, crispy Vidalia onions
Gabriel Billard, Pinot Noir, Pommard 2004

Cantaloupe cocktail, Cremant de Bourgogne, sourwood honey, fleur de sel

Bethany's blueberry, Bee's Knees pound cake, lemon crème fraiche

OITF works with a renown local chef in each dinner location, as well as local food artisans. Our brilliant chef, William Dissen from The Market Place restaurant in Asheville, is committed to local foods. As owner and Executive Chef of The Market Place, Dissen serves food produced and grown within a maximum 100-mile radius of Asheville.

Within that radius, our dinner included cheeses from Three Graces Dairy; Wake Robin Farm Breads; produce from Jake's Farm; meats from our hosts; and wines from France. Well, OK. That's a tad outside the 100 miles, but I'm not complaining.

Trust me. Pinot Noirs to die for.

The favorites.
Expectations? Check. Check. Check.

Truly, beyond the amazing food and wine, my favorite parts of the evening were all about the people. The connections. Chef Dissen brought along a fabulous staff who shared stories about each course—where it came from, how it was prepared, the special herbs used, the history of the wines. It was like dinner and storytime all wrapped into one.

The long table is actually a series of tables, and the meal is served family-style, with platters to share among eight guests. Just within our closest tables, three couples celebrated anniversaries: 29, 25, and 10. Peter's fear of foodie snobbery was (pretty much) unfounded, at least among our tablemates. The was no pretension, no attitude—just sheer pleasure of sharing a gorgeous meal and experience.

Denevan's desire to honor the local farmer through OITF is probably my favorite aspect of the evening. The OITF crew ushers the farmers and producers around the long table, introducing them to the diners and telling their stories. I talked heirlooms versus hybrids with the Missy from Jake's Farm while sipping wine under the stars.

Expectations? Check again.

The spontaneous applause for the growers, artisans, and chefs—as well as a sloppily orchestrated “wave” of cantaloupe cocktail glasses down the long table—proved that Denevan was on to something when he launched OITF. Farmers beamed. Growers glowed. Guests asked artisans for autographs. Sheep bleated, and we all erupted in applause when the wayward lamb caught up with the flock.

Outstanding in the field?

Yes. Yes, it was.