GRANDVIEW,
WA – Sue’s
daughter, Rhonda, kept assuring us that the time would come when we would smell
the grapes. I don’t remember smelling the cherries when they ripened or the apples
and peaches. I guess they were overpowered by the outdoorsy fragrance
permeating from the goats in the back of the house, and the dairy farm across
the road from us.
However,
the air tonight has been captured by the
grapes. My niece said that when we started having warm days with really cold
nights, the grapes would enter their final stage of ripening. In three weeks,
harvesting will begin, and Kay and I plan to be there to witness it.
Three
weeks ago, Curt (Rhonda’s husband) took us to watch hops being harvested. The
experience changed me. I find myself more open to weird stuff. My nephew-in-law
told me that there are three methods for harvesting hops. I think the third one
involves goats and machetes.
We recently
witnessed two techniques. The first involved a meticulous process involving a
tractor clipping the vines at the base, and a huge strange-looking vehicle following
behind to cut the rope holding the tops of the 16 foot vines and passing them
along to two workers standing in the back of a flatbed truck. Then it was off to
the factory where the vines were hooked and drawn through a tall, narrow
entrance.
In
some cases, what happens on the other side of the vine entrance is a secret.
There are apparently different ways to enhance the taste and aroma of hops. Both
require a massive amount of enhancing. The taste of the flowery fruit is bitter
as all get out, and the smell is off-putting. Yet, smart people know how to
ferment them so they will taste nutty, peachy, smokey, frosty, flaky... Whatever
adjective goes best with taste. (And by the way, “Off-putting” is this week’s favorite word.)
The second harvesting method involved a single behemoth of a machine that
cliped, pulled, de-flowered and then shreded the vines, throwing the chopped up
stuff back to the soil. It then belched out the hops parts into a truck. Hops looks
like a small flowery cone.
Apple
picking came next. One of the apple orchards behind our house has been picked.
No machines involved here. It took pickers, step ladders, canvas bags and
wooden crates. By the way, the term “picker” has taken on a new meaning for me.
I don’t care if its peaches, cherries, apples, plums or an angel’s kiss in
spring, it takes a talented person to pick fruit and vegetables.
I
don’t have space to go into detail here, but, as mentioned in a previous
article, I’ve never possessed the stamina and dexterity to be a picker of produce.
It’s just hard to believe how fast these men and women can pick, while in the
same movement culling the bad stuff. They get paid by the box, and they can
pick for hours without missing a step. Watching these experts work will give
you a sense of humility each time you visit the produce section of the grocery
store.
Speaking
of cows, did you know that the dairy farmer across the street sold his house,
feed lot, tractors, trucks, barns, cows and milking station? The whole lot,
stock and milk can. The family that
bought his place didn’t want his cows. For whatever reason they preferred
Jerseys over Holsteins. The Holsteins were shipped off one night, and the
Jerseys showed up a couple of nights later. The cows get milked three times a
day, so they’ve gotta move ‘em at night… and move ‘em fast,
I’ve
come to prefer the Jerseys, because they seem to smell less worse. Possibly
because the new owner keeps them in a
stockyard on the far side of the farm. Closer to Bill’s Berry Farm, located
next door to the dairy. Bill’s Berry raises peaches, plums, pumpkins, apples,
grapes, corn and berries of all denominations.
They also make a mean
donut. Apple cider has been the featured donut for the last couple of weeks.
Bill and Julie make cake donuts that are as soft as your typical glazed donut,
and they taste like the fruit of the week. I’ve had blueberry, apple cider and
peach. My girth now appears somewhat larger than when I arrived here.
A
weekend or two back, Bill’s BF had its special fall festival. There was bbq,
music, fruit picking, and apple slinging. Contestants would put an apple in a bucket
strapped to two huge elastic bands; back up several steps and then let go. The
target was one of several huge signs out in a field. I think the prize
was a bag of donuts. The time I was there, no one came close to scoring a hit.
I’m pretty sure I could’ve done it, but I don’t like standing in lines. Apparently,
bad apple slingers have patience galore.
At
some point after the grape harvest, Bill’s Berry Farm is going to have another
festival that will include a corn maze. I’ve talked Kay into entering the maze
with me. I’m told that each year they have people who need rescuing from that
thing. Not me. I’ve always been good with corn.
At
the moment I’m feeling good with grapes. Soon as I can, I’ll let you know about the
harvesting process. Curt’s sister said that I could help with her vineyard.
She’s handpicking it. This experience will join my on-going list of
embarrassing moments. My latest involved me trying to keep the goats out of the
garage. – Maybe next time.
end
Mark can be contacted at hayter.mark@gmail.com. An archive of
Hayter’s articles can be found at http://markhayterscolumn.blogspot.com.
Good article Moke. ..."smells less worse." Funny. Signed, your little sister, who loves you.
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