Every now and then, us city slickers need to get away. We need to see some nature, smell some fresh air, and steal some peace to keep the last vestiges of our sanity. Last week, I did just that. A couple of friends and I took a “Farm Fresh” tour in Duchess County, where we sampled freshly made cheeses, tasted local vino, and ate apples straight from the tree. Warning: This post is very picture heavy.
It’s the promise of cheese and wine (mostly wine) that keeps me from throwing my alarm out the window and going back to bed at 4:30am… on a Sunday. We leave the house while it’s still dark out to catch the 7am train to Poughkeepsie and I must say, it was totally worth it. The view of the Hudson River from the train was breathtaking. This video does it no justice.
First Stop. Sprout Creek is this adorable farm where they raise goats, turkeys, cows, and what have yous. They also have a creamery where they make cheeses from said animals’ milk (not from the turkey though… turkey cheese would be weird).
This goat totally photojacked this picture! I love her so much I named her Blanche, because isn’t that just the most ridiculous name for a goat?
In the back, you can see the creamery where they make all their cheeses. They let us sample both goat’s milk cheeses and cow’s milk cheeses. The only bad thing I have to say about the cheese sampling is that there is too much yakkity yak between the snackety snack. She holds the plate up and talks about bacteria and rinds and washes for 10 minutes and all I really hear is “woh woh woh woh CHEESE woh woh.” Doesn’t she know that in the presence cheese, one should just shut up? You will never be more interesting than cheese.
Second Stop. Village of Millbrook. They drop us off in the Village of Millbrook, this quaint little town with stores that sell mostly antiques and weird horse statues. To be honest, we don’t explore the village too much cause we’re too busy stuffing our faces with newly bought cheeses and salami in the park. Oh man, the salami. It’s one of those moments where I am convinced that even at gunpoint, I would not turn vegetarian.
And as if it weren’t adorable enough, we eat in this cute, little gazebo plucked from the set of Gilmore Girls. Of course everyone’s a boozer and brings wine. If there’s anything New Yorkers know how to do, it’s to incorporate alcohol into any occasion.
Stop 3. Clinton Vineyards. So by this time, I am drunk and have lost count of how many apple cider donuts I’ve consumed. Still, we head over to Clinton Vineyards to drink some mo’. We tried mostly white wines which I am less partial to, but who really cares after 8 or 9 glasses?
Stop 3. Terhune Orchards. At this point, I am crashing and oh look, it’s only 5pm. Nevertheless, I hustle my ass onto some slanty Fuji tree and eat the shit out of the apples like a fucking horse (a BOSS horse). I know this sounds insanely elderly of me to talk about eating fruit like it’s better than sex, but it was seriously the most delicious, sweet, crisp apple I have ever eaten in my life. It has ruined all apples for me, and from now on, every apple will taste like the bottom of my foot. I would murder Elmo for another Fuji. And no, I am not drunk right now.
I always loved being outside, but living in New York (or just simply growing older) has really taught me to appreciate how important and wonderful nature really is. For me, the rolling orange and yellow trees are more beautiful than any architectural wonder in the world, and that apple taste better than any dinner David Chang could serve.