In May, I went to Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom with Wes Martin and ten Milk Street students. Wes is Milk Street’s Kitchen Director and my sometimes partner in crime on the road. We’re going back in September.
The trip format was simple: two days and each day we visited a farm and then held a cooking class featuring the farm’s products. The farms we visited were Chandler Pond Farms and Firefly Farm. Chandler Pond raises 100% grass fed beef, berries and flowers. Every farm has/needs many revenue streams, so they also sell their hay and straw and have a robust farmstand that features not only their products but also those of other small area producers. Firefly farm is a tiny very diversified farm that grows vegetables, makes maple syrup, raises chickens and sheep and also has a farmstand for their and other’s goods.
At Chandler Farm, Dahlia Dill (yes, a flower farmer named Dahlia Dill), took us on two hour tour of the stunningly beautiful property where we met their Belted Galloway cattle, learned how to harvest rhubarb correctly, saw flats of flower starts ready to go into the fields and . . . met the geese. The geese are on the farm for one year only, while they’re voracious teenagers, and have one job only, to eat grass in first year strawberry fields.
Dahlia and her husband farm more than organically, so they can’t spray their berries to repress weeds. They also got their first-ever employee the week we were there in May. They’ve been farming for over 10 years. Until 2024, this meant the Dills spent hours and hours weeding grass by hand. Not any more! The young geese devour it. Conveniently, they have zero interest in strawberry leaves. They don’t go into fields with fruiting strawberries because of, well, the poop problem, so maybe they like the berries but they don’t get a chance to eat them. But they are great weeders!
I wish I could say Dahlia now has time to rest, but I can assure you the woman does not stop. There is always something that needs attention. The weather was sunny and in the 70s when we visited. But with it being northern Vermont, two days earlier it had gotten down to 30 degrees at night and Dahlia and Mark were in the fields at 2:30 a.m. covering their flowering strawberry plants to protect them.
A frost will ruin a crop. And strawberries are a major business up there. I remember growing up that if we didn’t get to Too Little Farm in Barnet by 7 a.m. to pick berries, they would be gone. People get strawberry frenzy up there (I love seasonal food frenzy, but that is for another time). This means the brief growing season is a serious economic factor in a farmer’s year. A killing frost is devastating. I’ll check in with Dahlia later this summer to see how her plants fared.
Dahlia knows that to make it as a farm, they need more than good luck with the weather. People have to feel connected to and invested in Chandler Farm. They have to choose to shop there. Coming to the farm is the best way to forge that connection, so Dahlia does a lot to craft welcoming, relaxing and convenient experiences for people. The farm stand is, in essence, a tiny grocery store. You can get meat, eggs, cheese, vegetables, preserves, kombucha, ice cream, yogurt and more, all made by New Englanders. Dahlia even added rocking chairs on the porch and picnic tables next door. Her flower CSA is a U-Pick model: Members come to farm weekly, get a container and clippers, and go into the fields to craft their own bouquet. She also offers floral workshops and encourages people to picnic after they’ve picked blueberries.
Each of these actions is tailored so people come to the farm for more than food. They come for rest, beauty, creativity and community. Her flower CSA members say their weekly flower time is the best part of their summer. Every time I’ve visited, someone is sipping a local soda or eating an ice-cream sandwich on the farm stand porch and taking in the views.
Any farmer reading this knows: This is not a restful time for the farmers. I saw the flats of flowers starts that Dahlia has started in her basement. I know she was tending to them for months. I am not sure it was her favorite part of the week. Dahlia was frank about this. Ensuring that her guests feel connected to the farm is essential for the Dill’s livelihood, though, and while it’s not restful, it is meaningful. I really appreciated Dahlia’s openness about this duality. And I really really respect her work ethic.
For the Tiptons at Firefly Farm, community is just as essential. They set up an herb garden just for their CSA members and welcome them to come by any time all season and pick the basil, cilantro or dill they need. They also host bi-weekly wood-fired pizza parties. Ben Tipton is an excellent pizza maker, by the way. He made us some pies when we visited. And their farm stand is also almost one-stop shopping, featuring locally roasted coffee (which is really good), flour grown and milled a few towns over, bacon from another neighbor, as well as their vegetables, eggs, lamb, maple syrup and preserves.
They also have the same commitment to land stewardship as the Dills do, but expressed in their own way. Their farming practices leave organic in the dust and they’re recently started experimenting with draft animals instead of tractors to help keep the soil healthy and reduce the carbon footprint.
They’re making it. Ben just left his 30-plus years as a physician’s assistant to farm full time with Michelle, his wife and the farm’s original, and only, worker. Their son Makail is spearheading the draft horse program (and much more). They’re making it and they work nonstop.
I only want to share their stories. I don’t want to romanticize the Dills or Tiptons lives, nor do I want to paint too rough of a picture. The facts are enough for me. I am thankful that thoughtful, hard-working farmers are still part of the American story. I don’t choose to farm. I do choose to cook and eat and think it’s undeniably valuable to recognize and thank the people who feed me.
We’re going back in September. Join us to meet the Dills and Tiptons, and a few more folks in an expanded itinerary.
And, here’s the recipe for those rhubarb custard bars we had at Chandler Pond.
