I’ve been lazy over the past few weeks.
Well, to be honest, I’ve not been lazy, but have been a combination of busy and exhausted. I have simply not found the time to serve you, the readers of my blog.
And for that, I am truly sorry.
So let me give you all a quick update on what I’ve been up to. I’ve been traveling a bit, and of course, I’ve been eating. One of my recent trips was down to Charlottesville, VA, for a weekend with burgergal down South (ok, and an actual reason, a trip to the Darden School of Business). Charlottesville is a great town for local food, given the fact that it’s surrounded on pretty much all sides by farmland. Leave the “city” and drive about 20 minutes in any direction, and you pretty much see this:
As you can see, it gets pretty rural, pretty quick. However, tucked away within all of that open land is a place that is heralded as the perfect example of a sustainable farm: Polyface Farm. It was featured in Omnivore’s Dilemma, and Joel Salatin, the farm’s owner, speaks around the country of the importance of the local food movement and supporting local economies. Since we were going to be within an hour of it, BG and I had to check it out. I wish I had been staying in the Courtyard again so I could have done some cooking with their products, but a simple visit was going to need to suffice this time.
Of course, just as we fueled the car up before the trip, we needed to fill our bellies a little bit. A friend and former UVA student had recommended that we check out Wayside Chicken for some fried chicken. As you all know from the eUWS project, we have been jonesing for some fried chicken for a while, and Harriet’s hadn’t quite cut the mustard. Needless to say, we were excited.
There it is. A modest cafe and restaurant, tucked away on a pretty average street in Charlottesville. “This chicken clucks for you.” It actually does. It makes a clucking sound when you walk by.
We ordered up some fried chicken: a breast for BG, thigh and a drumstick for me. Some mac and cheese and cole slaw on the side. Keepin’ it real.
So how was it? It was awesome. Take a look at that rippling layering of the batter and the crispy nooks and crannies. The chicken was cooked perfectly, and it was well seasoned throughout. My guess is that the chicken is allowed to soak in a brine before battering and frying. And the temp of the oil was just right– there was definitely a little grease going on, but the crunchy exterior formed a crust that prevented sogginess. If you are down in C-Ville any time soon, do yourself a favor and grab some lunch there. Just remember, they are closed on Sundays.
After loading up on some fat, it was time to head out to Polyface. Since the big February storm had just passed over the area, there was quite a bit of snow and ice on the roads, but it was all no challenge for the Kia Sportage and my Andretti-like driving abilities. We made it out there in about an hour, and despite the confusion over the un-marked and at times un-plowed roads, we finally made it.
Just as it was in Film, Inc. Polyface Farm.
Now, it being the middle of the winter and us being two of the only fools out on the roads in these parts, we had no idea what to expect. The place is a working farm, but in the Winter there’s not a whole of action going on. And it’s also the Salatin FAMILY farm, so that means that there is a house on the property, where people actually live. So it’s kind of like pulling into someone’s driveway and saying, “let me see your chickens.” But no worries.
We pulled in and were immediately greeted by Joel’s son, Dan Salatin. Right off the bat he was a really nice guy, and told us to make ourselves at home and wander around, even though we weren’t buying anything. True to his word, he pointed us in the direction of the pigs and sent us off on our way. Everything was pretty muddy and slushy, but we got a pretty good look around in spite of the sub-par conditions.
Right off the bat, you see the chicken coops with the laying hens in them. They’ve got two different colored birds, grey ones and brown ones, which are color coded really just to help with the processing, which happens every three years. The first thing I was struck by was how smooth and shiny the chickens’ feathers were– the feathers looked like fur, they were so smooth. The hens had plenty of room to roam around, and the coops smelled like a barn should smell: like hay.
Look how spacious that is! Those hens have more room to roam around than I do in my apartment.
A quick walk around the corner and you are in the middle of the pig pens. The pigs were pretty much doing what pigs do: hanging out in the mud, eating, getting into trouble. Again, their living quarters did not smell at all, another testament to the cleanliness of this place and the lack of need for antibiotics. Great stuff.
These guys are going to make some sweet bacon someday. Until then, they’re just chillin.
There are cows, too. Not much to say about that.
All in all, this place is great. I wish the weather were a little more cooperative so that I could have run in the fields, but alas, that was not in the cards for me. I’m really glad I got the opportunity to head down there, and I look forward to doing so again.
In other (more local) news, BG and I went to Northern Spy with her dad last week, prompted by Sam Sifton’s review in the NYT a few weeks’ back. The place is all about locally-sourced food and food products (they have a small “general store”), and bobo chicken makes an appearance on the menu. The food was simply prepared but flavorful, and definitely worth checking out if you find yourself in the East Village. Be prepared to wait, though, as the space is small and reservations are not taken.
