David Ottenstein has taken some beautiful photos of Iowa barns and buildings. He visited Grinnell last Fall and I got a chance to talk to him about what he called "the aesthetics of loss". His term strikes at one of the fascinating paradoxes of living in Iowa: our decaying history surrounds us, and at times it is stunningly beautiful. Iowans seem to bear this loss stoically, almost as if it were an extension of their self-effacing, no frills nature. In Ottenstien's photographs the connection between Iowan art, environment, and psychology begs to be discussed.
So, I brought these photos up with Arion Thiboumery, a graduate student at Iowa State University focusing on revitalizing Iowa's small meat lockers. His first thoughts: "when I see these photos there is not an "aesthetic of loss" in terms of sadness, but rather of bearing. . . . There is real salvage in knowing what is here, what is left. The withered and cracked, the ruins in the "low spots and hilltops" on the verge of the oblivion, become all the more beautiful, because they have not been lost for good, yet. The rediscovery fills me with dreams and hope. Even if I do not know their exact use or meaning, or any of it at all, the motivation they bring to make new meaning stretches the limits of measure. Dreams have value, and what inspires us to dream in new ways likewise has value."
"To give you an example: the meat lockers project. Meat lockers are living relics of the past, most that have ever been are gone, but they are a viable means for future sustainability through decentralized production. Some of them are downright dirty and need work. Standards of sanitation have greatly improved in recent years. "Lockers," in many places, are conceived of as "that blood-stained shack where my grandma went to get her cow slaughtered." They need a make over. They need to let the past die so they can be reborn."
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Dan's Best of Iowa Part 1: Golden Ridge Blue Cheese
Iowan blue cheese is synonymous with Maytag. This famous blue, made by the famous kitchen appliance family, has a subtle blue flavor and clean, almost metallic, cow milk finish. But the real story in Iowa is a new comer in the northeast--Golden Ridge Cheese Cooperative's natural rind blue, which, in a mere two years of production, has racked up two major awards: "Best Blue in the US" (2004 American Cheese Society Competition) and second best blue-veined cheese world-wide (2005 Wisconsin Cheese Makers Competition).
The co-op is owned by a group of 40 Amish dairy farmers, who felt their high-quality, hand-milked, organic milk deserved a better market than regional dairies. The USDA and the county helped them purchase a modern factory in 1998 and hire a crew of "English" who run the machines and carry out their traditional French/Spanish-inspired recipe. The key to their success seems to be in the little things: happy cows, a small degree of natural fermentation on the way to the factory, an absense of fat-chain-breaking mechanical pumps in the production line, and a natural, flavorful rind.
The product is a much more layered and intimate cheese than Maytag's self-effacing midwestern product. Subtle enough for non blue cheese fans, but complex enough for its national audience, the Natural Rind Blue (Golden Ridge's award-winner) features a mushroomy taste with layers of rich cream and a light grass-fed tang.
You'll find this cheese in any major American cheese shop, but visit their website and buy via mail at half the price and you'll save money, eat world-class cheese, and support the livelihoods of our country's best environmental stewards -- the Amish.
Even better, make the drive up to the factory. If you make it past the Amish farms in the area (the horse-drawn plows, playing kids and bake sales easily distract), you'll get to visit with the General Manager, Richard, who has also won awards for his organic pecans. Ask him how long the two wheels of cheese you've just bought (at $5 a pound who wouldn't?), and you'll likely get the same answer I did: "In front of me, ten minutes."
The co-op is owned by a group of 40 Amish dairy farmers, who felt their high-quality, hand-milked, organic milk deserved a better market than regional dairies. The USDA and the county helped them purchase a modern factory in 1998 and hire a crew of "English" who run the machines and carry out their traditional French/Spanish-inspired recipe. The key to their success seems to be in the little things: happy cows, a small degree of natural fermentation on the way to the factory, an absense of fat-chain-breaking mechanical pumps in the production line, and a natural, flavorful rind.
The product is a much more layered and intimate cheese than Maytag's self-effacing midwestern product. Subtle enough for non blue cheese fans, but complex enough for its national audience, the Natural Rind Blue (Golden Ridge's award-winner) features a mushroomy taste with layers of rich cream and a light grass-fed tang.
You'll find this cheese in any major American cheese shop, but visit their website and buy via mail at half the price and you'll save money, eat world-class cheese, and support the livelihoods of our country's best environmental stewards -- the Amish.
Even better, make the drive up to the factory. If you make it past the Amish farms in the area (the horse-drawn plows, playing kids and bake sales easily distract), you'll get to visit with the General Manager, Richard, who has also won awards for his organic pecans. Ask him how long the two wheels of cheese you've just bought (at $5 a pound who wouldn't?), and you'll likely get the same answer I did: "In front of me, ten minutes."
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