Fromunda Cheese

I remember being on a climbing trip with my (now) husband, prior to having kids, down in Utah at Indian Creek. We had traveled there with a friend who had invited another friend to join us….Was I pregnant then? I don’t remember….Climbing is what we did before we had kids. Now we farm. Soon, very soon, I am hoping to call myself a climber again. But I digress. We met up with our friend’s friend and as I racked up for a short but stout little lead, I was talking about being lactose intolerant. I remember saying something about eating cream cheese made from tofu and hard cheeses made from nuts.

“I make nut cheese.”

At first I wasn’t entirely sure who had said it, but as I turned to look at my friend’s friend (who was a guy), I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was a joke, obviously….but a very good, very witty, very quick joke that has always made me laugh when I think back on it. We were informed, later on, that the correct term for such a cheese is ‘Fromunda Cheese.’ From where does Fromunda Cheese originate? Fromunda his nuts, as it were. Good times.

image

Today, as we were hauling a Nigerian Dwarf Buck back to our girls for a mating session, I couldn’t help but notice the smell that filled the car. Yes, the car. Nigerian Dwarf Goats fit squarely into a dog crate, which fits into the back of our Subaru wagon. They are cute, quaint little creatures which I have fallen madly in love with. But the smell of a buck is something you cannot escape or wish away. It is pungent, slightly sweet, and omnipresent when a buck who has the habit of peeing on his beard is in your company. I couldn’t help but think to myself that it was the perfect olfactory representation of Fromunda Cheese. Now our car is holding the smell…..in a most efficient manner, I might add.

image

Bandelier, the buck, will go back after a month here on the Acre. He will have served his purpose. In another five months, we will be expecting kids, milk, and fresh chevre. It’s true that we are tied to this farm and that is, in part, a big reason why we no longer go climbing. But I am ready for that to change. It made sense to mostly stay at home while the youngest was very young. But now that we are past that stage, I am itching to get out, to get the kids out, to introduce them to my most favoritist sport in the world. I am also excited to continue introducing them to farming, to new experiences, to new animals. When we go to take Bandelier back to his farm, we will be picking up a new buckling…the sire of our future herd.

Molly's buckling

It’s all worth it. Going from climbing to farming; raising a family, providing healthy food. But now that the kids are growing, I can’t help but get excited about getting back to climbing. We will not stop farming. Instead we will go out for day or weekend trips. We will bring the Dwarf Goats with us if we can’t find anyone to milk for us while we are gone. Then we will sit by the fire, talking about our amazing day and our favorite climbs while eating fresh chevre on homemade toast with ripe tomatoes, home-cured sausage, or beef-jerky…whatever our little farm has produced that season.

Who knows, we might find ourselves sitting around a campfire, once again, with our friend’s friend. And we will tell him about our goats. The girls; Gracie and Tuzi. The boy; Diesel, Deez for short. And when he remarks about the freshness and sweetness of the goat cheese, I will make sure to let him know that girl goats are not the only ones who can make fresh goat cheese…that while Tuzi and Gracie are responsible for the fresh chevre, Diesel is responsible for the fresh fromunda.

Fromunda where, you ask?

Fromunda Deez nuts.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Fromunda Cheese

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s