BY Lisa Boonstoppel-Pot

Growing up, we called the crust on bread the “cushie” which is my family’s slang for the Dutch word “korst”. For as long as I can remember, I have hated the cushie. I was forced to eat it as a child so when I finally got to be the caretaker of my own home, I would often peel the crust off (when my kids weren’t looking) and enjoy the inside of the bread.
     Then something happened. First, I switched to sourdough bread from the grocery store to increase the number of fermented foods in my diet. It is SO good but it also costs $6 for a small loaf. Ouch. I wondered if I could make my own so when I saw a place called Red Hen Artisanale offering a  Sourdough Level 1 course, I immediately signed up.
    The class was amazing and Lauren Hambleton (left) was a generous instructor with her baking knowledge. Precise, efficient and experienced, she provided a packet of recipes/instructions and best of all, a bit of her own sourdough starter for our future loaves. The breadmaking process is fascinating and I couldn’t wait to bake my first loaves. Lauren encouraged us to take the lid off our dutch ovens after 25 minutes and let the bread crust brown for an extra 10 minutes. The flavour is in the crust, she said.
     I was highly skeptical until I tried eating my own bread for the first time. She was right! That dark crust is crunchy and full of flavour and has completely transformed my approach to eating bread. No more grimacing while I chew off the outside so I can enjoy the middle…now I’m getting through the middle to enjoy the outside.
     Life continues to surprise me by reversing (or maturing) thoughts, preferences and opinions … even when it comes to those dreaded “cushies” … and I’m here for it. ◊

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I headed to the barn in my old plaid work coat and barn boots with flecks of manure. Walking beside me in his suit jacket and immaculate leather shoes was a businessman from the city. Friendly fellow he was, but very turned out for a visit to my little barn. He was there to choose a kitten to give to his daughter. 
     Were he another farmer, I would not have worried when his shoes sunk into spongy grass by the door (it was spring) or witnessing a huge spiderweb hanging from the beam or (what I consider) the sweet, honest smell of horse manure. Funny how it all looks different when perceived from someone else’s eyes.
     He could not believe his luck that this kitten was free. I could have charged him a bit but I like to keep my barn cat numbers to four for pest control and was pleased this playful barn cat would be loved by a little girl.    
     Taking a look around, the businessman admired the horses and asked questions about raising the chickens.  I’m not sure what he actually thought but there were smiles and genuine curiosity from both sides. It felt positive.
    I was thinking about that when Dr. Kelly Barratt spoke at Dairy Day during Grey Bruce Farmers Week (see story in this issue). She suggested it is more important to understand our consumer’s values than educate them about how we farm. I would argue we need to do both in a way that is mutually respectful. I hope I gave “kitten guy’ a good account of how the animals are respected, well-cared for and raised in a healthy environment with their bedded stalls, fresh hay and spacious pens. 
     I like to think he went home with a story for his little girl of a kitten that grew up curled on sweet, warm hay while the chickens laid eggs in tidy wooden boxes as the horses raced through the grass with the wind in their manes. Too romantic? At the very least I believe friendliness and generosity added positivity to his perception of farms, farmers and farming to maintain that trust the consumer has of our industry.  ◊