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The Cheese Blog

 

Redwood Hill Visit- Mother's Day and Goat Kisses

GoatWhite (1 of 1) If because of the lack of new words on this blog, anyone was worried that I decided to stay in Jura, France to take the 140,000 or so eighty-pound Comté cheeses hostage at the Fort Sainte Antoine caves, never fear, I am not in trouble with the French government. I considered staying in the Jura, or Alsace, where I could eat pounds and pounds of Alpine style cheese or Morbier for the rest of my life, but alas, I came back to Oakland. I mean..... I can buy kale here. Which is... yah, it was a tough decision.

Anyhow, I have landed. I'm back! Busy making up for the time I missed while traveling- writing, writing pitches (I love this blog, but a girl's gotta pay for her cheese somehow), and attempting to be a good maid-of-honor to my best friend who's getting married in five days (by the way, did every girl but me know how hard it is to find a pair of black strappy sandals that are under five inches high these days? Oh, bridesmaid dress. I'm hoping I don't need to grow up and learn how to walk in high heels.).

Now that the cheese whee is rolling again, I wanted to share pics with you of a creamery visit.

GoatMom (1 of 1)

If any readers are Bay Area folks who grew up driving the windy backroads of Sonoma, you're likely familiar with Redwood Hill. Of course, if you're a cheese lover, you are probably also just as familiar with this spot. They make good dairy. Owned by the Bice family, this company is as in love with their goats, if not more, as they are with cheese. 4-H-ers unite! These photos are from this mother's day at Redwood Hill. The creamery always opens its gates to farm visits on this day, and it always rocks. A cool celebration right?

The feeding bucket.

My parents, funnily enough though, forgot that the day they were planning to visit Redwood Hill was Mother's Day. They instead told me what they were doing that weekend, I reminded them of the importance of that particular Sunday, then I asked to be invited along. Luckily, they let me join.

A goat puppy.

Wendy, a cheese club member who made it up for day.

Betsy the goat waiting for a snack, which was luckily this time not my belt.

 

In case lost.

My mother the goat whisperer.

BabyGoathold (1 of 1)