Day 4: Caromont Farm, Esmont, 12 p.m.
Vegetables have seasons and so does milk. Autumn is a great kidding season, but when a buck is around, the goats go into heat and the milk gets gamier. To adjust, Gail Hobbs-Page of Caromont Farm in Esmont, a tiny town southwest of Charlottesville, makes her fresh chèvre in the early spring. While showing us around her farm, the cheesemaker talked of teat placement and worm resistance the way some parents brag about report cards and piano lessons. “This one,” Hobbs-Page said, “is the daughter of my very first goat.” We followed a herd into the woods, their hooves schussing through fresh-fallen leaves.
Bo leaned in to marvel: “Eighty-one goats and she knows each one’s name.” He inhaled and sighed. “This smells like home.” Over a bottle of rosé in Hobbs-Page’s kitchen, chef and cheesemaker bonded. “Food does something,” Bo said. “It triggers you, it’s not just a tomato. We do agree on that, don’t we?”
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