These goat’s have such a better life than the flock down the  block… or ok, at least from the chickens; I am not so sure there are any goats.  Lately, I have been wanting to get back up north; living in Vermont for five years changes a person for good  (as most people here will attest by shouting “hippie” in my direction every time I wear clogs.)  But really, there is something distinct about Vermont cheese.  In the most recent issue of Slow, Slow Food USA’s Journal, they feature an article about the terroir of Vermont Maple Syrup.  The different kinds of bedrock affect the flavor of the syrup.  Sure, it isn’t exactly the same concept as cheese, but it reminds us that the cows at Consider Bardwell Farm in West Pawlet, aren’t eating the same grass as the goats in West Cornwall.  The flora around Lake Champlain, in Addison County, are some of the most diverse in the state- whether this is due to climate change, pollution, or changed land use… has yet to be determined.  Summer in Vermont is humid and sticky and buggy and all those diverse grasses might give you a rash… but it feels healthy up there and the air is good, as is the cheese.  There is a saying: “Vermont- The way life should be.”  Maybe this is a ploy by native Vermonters, but I think they have a point and it goes not only for lifestyle, but for food production as well.  Vermont has one of the longest lasting agricultural traditions in the Northeast; the animals and the people seem happier.  Ok, I am going to go water the plants on the stoop.  Close enough?

Summer is quieter on Bedford Avenue; a lot of lucky souls are out in the Hamptons or Martha’s Vinyard, but for the rest of us a sunset over Manhattan is as good as it gets.  The hot weather is making everyone hungrier for cheese.  It’s about that time of year when a light dinner of cheese, bread, olives and wine replaces all of that hearty American cuisine (aside from the Barbeque of course).  Somehow eating cheese outdoors is nearly always a romantic act and I do wonder if this is something distinctly American to be saying…?  It could just be that the concept of artisinal cheese is still so fresh in our minds, sitting on a roof overlooking the Williamsburg Bridge feels like Paris in ’68.  It may also be my choice cutlery, a classic Opinel pocket knife, that always makes me feel like I am roughing it, at least just a little.  Either way, I look forward to dinner tonight- on said roof, with a bottle of crisp, even metallic white wine and a hunk of the Twig Farm’s Goat tomme.  See, it does seem idyllic.