This past Sunday on route 2E about ten miles southeast of Hartford,
I realized that I spend very little time in that part of the state. This was
not exactly a revelation since I spend most of my time in Canton in the
opposite corner, but it is rather beautiful out that way. However, I wasn’t
just out for the colloquial “Sunday drive” (though I wouldn’t have minded); I
was on a mission. For goat cheese.
While attending a party in Simsbury at a colleague’s house,
I met a Latin teacher named Mark. Though he insulted the French language
(pronouncing it “badly spoken Latin”), which normally removes people from the
Christmas card list, he quickly redeemed himself by sharing some of the goat
cheese be had brought. There were four different kinds of fresh chevre on the plate—chive, herbes de Provence, black pepper, and
dill—and all were delicious. When I
inquired where he acquired such bon
fromage, Mark further endeared himself to this gourmand when he said “we made them at our farm.”
The “we” Mark was speaking of includes his husband Paul, the main cheesemonger and their farm—already well-known to more local residents—is called Beltane Farm located in Lebanon, CT. Mark and Paul breed, raise, and milk their flock of Oberhasli and La Mancha goats twice a day to bring lucky Connecticut residents their fresh goat’s milk and cheeses. And from my own experience, the goats appear really happy to be there, too. And why shouldn’t they be?