Hark Back to Coggeshall Farm

Rock sculpture at Sticks and Stones

     After leaving Taft Hill Farm Holly visited friends in Boston, and Randy hobnobbed with Zev Shalsinger, James Ernest, and other VIPs of the board game industry. At the conclusion of Randy’s convention, he braved the post-Sandy gas lines of New Jersey to meet Holly in Connecticut. We headed down to Holly’s great aunt’s house, where we spent a lovely relaxing week with her and other relatives. We enjoyed being able to sleep in, and the break from working outside in the cold. Holly’s aunt also knew of a WWOOF farm called Sticks and Stones which has a sister farm in Hawaii, in addition to growing moss and doing landscaping. We went and toured the place, and had fun seeing their setup and talking with the farmers.
      Bidding farewell to Holly’s family, we pointed our little red wagon back towards Coggeshall Farm in Bristol, Rhode Island. Much to Johnny’s amused chagrin, we again arrived late on a Friday afternoon. We had returned to partake in the traditional slaughtering workshop the following day, and when we showed up Johnny, Shelley, and Jeff the butcher were already busy “preparing” the sheep. One ewe had already been killed and cleaned, with three rams awaiting the knife. Jeff sat astride the ram, holding him, and as we watched he expertly and humanely located and cut both the jugular vein and carotid artery. The ram took less than two minutes to completely bleed out, but was unaware of the proceedings much sooner than that. The blood was collected in a bucket for blood sausage. Next Jeff made an incision from the base of the ribcage to the pelvis in order to remove the offal, or innards. As he gutted the sheep he also carefully removing the skin,  which will be used as luxurious sheepskin rugs. They saved the lungs (or "lights"), heart, liver (after removing the gallbladder), stomachs, kidneys, intestines, testicles, and the head for various period recipes they wanted to try. During the organ harvest we learned about the caul fat, which holds the stomachs in place. It is a few square feet of lacy membrane with a network of fat deposits also known as "the chef's friend" because when draped over roasting meats it prevents drying out and adds a delicious fatty, lamby flavor. Randy helped Shelley wash out the stomachs, which was a smelly, time intensive job, but hopefully the haggis will be worth it. We also helped scraped the hides, removing any clinging bits of flesh, membrane, or fat. Two rams later it was well into the evening, and we were grateful to finally go inside and enjoy Johnny's delicious crockpot creation. Shelley and Johnny were happy to have us back, even though they would miss having leftovers.

     The next morning we awoke bright and early to help prepare for the butchering workshop Coggeshall Farm Museum was hosting. As the last tables were set up and showtime approached, we all realized that the road most frequently used to get to the farm had been washed out by hurricane Sandy.We jumped in the car with chalkboard sign in hand and sped to the blocked-off road. We had to jog about a quarter mile to reach the blockade and leave detailed detour directions for workshop goers. On our way back to the car, breathing heavy from the exertion, we met a couple out for a stroll who anxiously asked us what we were doing. We explained about the butchering workshop, and they relaxed a bit, chuckled, and said it looked like we’d already started. At that point Randy looked down and realized he was wearing the sweatshirt from last night’s preparations, which was covered in ram’s blood. No wonder we had gotten a funny look.

The birth of a lamb chop

       We returned as the workshop was beginning, and joined the dozen or so other vintage cut buffs. The purpose of the workshop was to showcase butchering as it was traditionally done in the 1790s, before the invention of the bandsaw altered the common styles of cuts. Jeff, the butcher, would be using only knives and a hefty cleaver to transform one of the rams into kitchen-ready delicacies. To start off the demonstration, Jeff killed the last ram, and although people had the option of not watching this step, everyone felt that witnessing the death was an important part of the process. Next, one by one, we butchered all four of the sheep carcasses. Each one Jeff did slightly differently to show us different options for cuts. We also learned how to properly tie up a roast to ensure even cooking. 

Participants getting their hands dirty

 It took the better part of the day to transform four sheep into butcher-paper-wrapped parcels, and by the end we were pretty tuckered. But, we barely had time to wash the blood from our hands before attending the Foodways workshop that Coggeshall was hosting that evening. It was an odd combination of attendees (consisting of ourselves, two members of the Coggeshall Farm Museum board, two reporters, and a couple who had won a gift certificate to the event), coupled with an odd menu (including a lamb’s head roast on a bed of organ meats). 

An interesting and delicious dinner

It was interesting to see the farm from a visitor’s perspective as we gathered eggs and picked veggies from the garden to make our dinner. Although we were glad when we finally got to hit the hay, when we returned to the house we saw that Johnny and Shelley had been enjoying a dinner of roast rabbit while we were eating sheep lungs. 

Farmers and historians relax with a historical farming game

      There was no time to sleep in the following morning as we joined Shelley and Johnny in hosting the first annual nine-player Agricola tournament. For those of you who don’t know, Agricola is a board game in which you play the role of a 17th-century farmer and attempt to maintain the fine balance of growing a farm and a family. Johnny facilitated the event, and had done the math, estimating that the tournament would last for 11 hours. In order to end at a reasonable time, guests started arriving at 10 in the morning, and after a light snack we got down to business. With two boards going and Johnny hustling turns along, we all built our farms in record time and enjoyed doing it. Even with a quick lunch break and stopping to do chores, we still finished by 8 pm.  fields were plowed and hogs were bred, and in the end one of Johnny and Shelley’s old friends from Plymouth Plantation proved to be the best peasant farmer among us (even though we do it for a living).  Everyone had a great time and we agreed that this should become an annual event. 

Geese frolicking in their new home

     Over the next several days we worked off our workshop participation fee by performing a few tasks for the museum. We finally finished building a new fence around the goose enclosure, which we had started our previous visit. We also put the garden to bed, cut down brush, and gathered sand to store vegetables in in the root cellar. One day we built a new gate for the barn. We had to use period-correct materials, which included unfinished planks without circular saw cuts, and hand-forged nails and hinges. Although we had to overcome a few design flaws, in the end we had a well-built gate that even the 1800 pound bull could not get through (as long as he didn’t find the grass greener on the other side). Shelley and Johnny’s personal garden was in dire need of a new fence, and Johnny wanted it strong enough to survive a yeti attack, with 9 foot poles dug 3 feet into the ground (12 foot on the corners, dug 4 feet down). To get the job done, we needed about 20 logs. Luckily, Johnny had no affinity for black locust (being invasive and thus not historically accurate), and they were growing like weeds. A couple sweaty days later we had cut down or found an assortment of cedar, cherry, and locust logs, and we used a drawknife to scrape the bark off the ends to be buried. Next we started digging 3-4 foot holes, and miraculously did not have to abandon even one due to rocks (those of you from New England will understand the improbability of this feat). Keeping with tradition, we did not finish our final project, thus giving us an excuse to return and enjoy more of their fine company and excellent food. 

Visiting kids help with the final split

Seconds before the "Gallagher incident"

     Besides learning about lamb butchering, Johnny also treated us to a lesson in railsplitting. Before there were chainsaws or even before handsaws were worth the effort, fences were built by splitting logs lengthwise to produce rails. First, Johnny drove a wedge into the log, starting at the top and working down, to ensure that the selected grain travels the entire length of the log. Next the wedge is firmly driven in with the use of a beetle, a large wooden mallet resembling something from Looney Tunes. The idea is to guide the wedge as straightly as possible down the length of the ensuing crack. As the crack grows, extra wedges are added to keep the crack open and the leading wedge free. Sometimes the natural grain of the tree misdirects the wedge, and a big part of the skill of railsplitting is being able to overcome the idiosyncrasies of each individual tree and create a straight split. Johnny told us that out of all of the daily activities at Plymouth Plantation, nothing could draw a crowd like railsplitting. It seems that people are drawn to the event with a mixture of fascination and investment in the process, resulting in cheers when the final rail would break free. 
     As a break from farming, one night we decided to go out on the town, and attended the local high school production of Annie Get Your Gun. It was a good time, and since we were both in theater in high school we had fun reminiscing about our own theater escapades.
     As Thanksgiving approached, the time came to say our goodbyes and head to Randy’s family gathering. As farewell gifts Shelley heaped upon us a variety of homesteading starters, including sour dough, water keifer, and a rosemary plant. We were sorry to leave Johnny and Shelley and the delicious lamb-shank dinners and incredible salt-cured bacon breakfasts. On our last night Shelley and Johnny maintained their great precedent by taking us  us out to dinner for our last meal together. This time we went to Abyssinia, a delicious Ethiopian restaurant located on the east side of Providence, Randy’s old stomping grounds. We again enjoyed a leisurely dinner and splendid company before heading back to Massachusetts.