Gimme the Dirt… On Leaving a Legacy

I love the history of words. Recently, one word has held my attention: legacy. Its Latin root “legatus” means “person delegated.” What’s a legacy? It’s the second year we are hosting apprentices for the Anne Saxelby Legacy Fund, and this is the source of my interest in the word. Saxelby’s family started the organization as a way to honor her after her untimely death at the age of 40. Saxelby was considered “the” champion of American artisanal farmstead cheese, but she was also a mom, leaving behind three young children and a dearly loved family. She also left her business, Saxelby Cheesemongers, a tantalizing cheese shop tucked into a basement corner of Chelsea Market in New York. The cheese shop would have been a legacy in itself, but Anne Saxelby was a force, and she deserved to be uniquely memorialized. The fund in her name aims to create a new generation of farmers by placing young people on small, sustainable farms across the United States for one month in the summer. We were honored to be asked, truthfully, since we found ourselves in the company of some rather daunting names: the Von Trapp Family Farm (yes, that Von Trapp), Jasper Hill Farm, Meadow Creek Dairy, Uplands Cheese, and Rogue Creamery. Because our farm is small, we don’t have worker housing, so anyone coming to work here also lives with us. Last year, we shared our home and farm (and inherent workload) with Kristen, who quickly became part of our family. After her apprenticeship was over, Kristen went home to Maryland to a job milking cows at a local dairy, a particular point of pride for us since she’d never touched a cow before arriving here. This year, we agreed to take two apprentices: one in July and one in August.

As I write this, our July apprentice, Charlotte, is outside on the porch. Even though it’s her day off, she’s choosing to spend it here, relaxing and watching the cows. We were worried about a new personality in the house. We grew close to Kristen, and she’s been back to visit us a few times since last summer. We said Kristen was a tough act to follow, but after only a few days with Charlotte, our fears were allayed. She, too, is a part of this farm – up with us in the early morning to feed, clean up after, and milk the cows, and care for my flock of chickens. She’s back at it in the late afternoon – scooping poop, piling hay in the manger, collecting eggs, and milking the cows. Oh – and, of course, bottle feeding the calf she was hoping would be born before she leaves so she could have another cow to milk. The connections we’ve made from this program will last a lifetime. They’re actually more than connections: they’re genuine, real friendships that reach across the generational gap and meet in the space that’s held for a mutual love of well-raised food and respect for the work that it takes to get it to the table. I’m learning that these are things Anne Saxelby held in the highest esteem, and it’s also where she was most at home.

A few months ago, I found myself sitting at a table at High Lawn Farm in Lee, MA, listening to a talk by Kate Arding, a hugely respected figure in the rarified world of cheese. She was speaking about her career starting and working at some of the most renowned cheese businesses in the world. I was there as the creator and co-founder of the Meeting of the Milkmaids, and around the table was the rest of my team – cheesemakers, mongers, a cheese anthropologist/photographer (your basic Indiana Jones of cheese) – and we were all listening with rapt attention. The rest of the room was filled with women representing every aspect of the cheese world. On the screen Arding was sharing photos of people who influenced her along the way, and up popped a picture of a beaming Anne Saxelby in a field, surrounded by her children. A hush fell across the already quiet room as Arding spoke of her close personal and working relationship with Saxelby. Besides her shop, Saxelby was a host of the popular Cutting the Curd podcast, and the author of the book “The New Rules of Cheese.” Besides her family, Saxelby had also left a rich professional network of colleagues, chefs, farmers, and friends. My attention was drawn to the teammate sitting next to me. I realized Kate Truini was crying. I knew Kate had worked for Saxelby Cheesemongers, and it was apparent that the photo on the screen had deeply affected her. I reached out to Truini to hear firsthand about her experience working for Saxelby and learn what she was like as a boss, mentor, and human being. “When I interviewed for the job, my first impression was that she was a lovely, down-to-earth person. I see that there is a fanaticism around personalities in the industry, and that’s not a part of my personality as much. Of course, I was aware of her, but I wasn’t ‘fangirling’ when we met. I feel like I’m lucky because I got to know her without that stuff in the way.” This is something I’ve heard echoed amongst people who knew her well – that Saxelby’s lack of ego meant that there was nothing impeding the pursuit of her passion for discovering American farmstead cheeses and promoting them with vigor. Photos of her prove my point: her vibrant smile shines from pictures of her surrounded by piles of cheese or out in the countryside with the farmers and animals who made it. The photos, stories, and words in podcasts and books only make me wish more fervently that I could have known her.

The farms participating with the Anne Saxelby Legacy Fund are as diverse as the apprentices sent to work on them. There’s an oyster farm in Maine, a poultry farm that protects heritage breeds, urban farms in cities across the country, and even an organic farm on Maui. I’ve lobbied for a farmer exchange with that one, but so far, I haven’t heard if I should purchase my plane ticket. There are farm-related businesses participating in the program as well: a meat locker, cheese shops (including Kate Arding’s Talbott & Arding in Hudson, NY), and a hotel “kitchen garden” farm. This year, the lineup includes a magical farm in Connecticut that started Anne Saxelby on her cheese and farming journey: Cato Corner Farm, where Jersey cows are milked into vats where beautiful farmstead cheeses are made. Saxelby worked there for a time, both learning and making her mark. There, her coveralls still hang by the cheese cave, her boots by the front door, where lucky young cheesemakers can step literally into her shoes to continue her important work.

My own journey in farming has humbled me and impressed upon me the importance of authenticity in a world of cloying ego. Cows don’t care about your name or position, and they pick up on the energy around them; there’s no hiding who you are with cows. I’m reminded of this in my conversation with my milkmaid friend Kate Truini. She recounted a story that confirms my hunch about Anne Saxelby’s realness. “There was no pretense about her. I always felt respected, and I never felt intimidated by her. She led with integrity and genuine kindness and interest in people.” This is the Anne Saxelby I see in photos – someone approachable who joyfully pursued her life’s work. Truini continued, “I spent some time at a kitchen space in Brooklyn with Anne. It was work with refugees, and we went and talked about cheese, and there was a language barrier. It was so nice to learn about people through her eyes; she was genuinely interested in them. Not long after that, we went to the Bon Appetit kitchen [Conde Nast], and I can’t imagine two more disparate organizations, but she was the same person in both places; she treated everyone the exact same way.” Truini said, “Anne led with knowledge and passion, and we had a shared interest in American food and artisan products. She would invite me to things. She always included me. I try to do that with my team now, as well.”

I’m brought full circle back to the beginning of this story: legacy. Truini is now the proprietor of her own cheese shop, New Curds on the Block; she’s a monger extraordinaire with a passion and drive that mirrors her mentor. And her tears at the Meeting of the Milkmaids gathering? Those were the result of Truini’s realization that she wasn’t an imposter amongst professionals. “My time at Saxelby Cheesemongers was so timely in my career, and, in that moment, it was because I was realizing that I was following in her legacy. It’s not some fun little idea that I’m good at; it’s my life and career. My shop is standing on its own! It hit me in a very immediate way because I realized that I’m really doing it – I metabolized her leadership style and business model and made it fit into my own model.” Then Truini shared the thought that will stick with me: “I was thinking about that idea of being passionate. Anne had such a quiet way about how she shared her passion; it wasn’t about her – there was no ego in it – it was ‘let me make way for this person who is doing this work that I think is special and important.'” It struck me that how Truini runs her business and comports herself is the legacy. I thought about Lily, another of my team, who got her start as a cheesemaker at Cato Corner and who sometimes had worn Anne’s coveralls in the cheese cave before moving on to another creamery in Wisconsin where she’s now winning awards. And Indigo, who makes spectacular cheeses at home and gives in countless selfless, generous ways with joy and passion. And Rachel, who jumps in to do anything and everything she can, simply because, as she says, she wants to help people. And Babs, that adventurous turophile, who is engaged and passionate as she chases down going-extinct cheeses in sometimes dangerous places.

This farm is our legacy. We use it to raise amazing food, educate young people about farming, and share its beauty with our community. We will leave behind acres of fertile soil, woods full of diverse flora and fauna, a herd of cows carefully bred and tended and loved, a fancy flock of chickens (they know it, by the way), and a business started by two people who deeply love this land, and each other. Just by the very nature of what we do, there’s no choice but to be utterly authentic, and my thoughts move again to Anne Saxelby. In a world full of people who always seem to seek attention or get a free leg up, maybe we just need to be more like her. Let’s all be more like Anne.

Photos courtesy of Rebecca Collins Brooks + Babs Perkins

Rebecca Collins Brooks is a writer and farmstead cheesemaker on Hilltop Farm in Accord, NY. She is the creator and founder of The Meeting of the Milkmaids, a gathering of women working in the cheese and dairy industry. In addition to a small herd of dairy cows, she and her husband Barton raise Wagyu beef, selling meat to customers directly off the farm. Her best friends are two terriers, Winston and Molly; and Sylvie, a truly brilliant barn cat. You can visit the farm by appointment to see where truly good food is grown.

Connect with Rebecca via Instagram @catskillwagyu, on Facebook CatskillWagyu

And check out > INSIDE+OUT Spotlight on Catskill Wagyu at Hilltop Farm