Michael Stadtlnder on the farm.
Last Tuesday, if you recall, was a spectacularly beautiful day – cloudless skies of periwinkle blue, a slight breeze, pleasant temperatures, Ontario looking bright green and bushy-tailed, Vancouver still full of hope and innocence – an ideal time to set off into the countryside and Michael Stadtlnder’s Eigensinn Farm.
It was a private invitation, an opportunity to see a preview of the great artist’s new project, the Pine Spiel. Inspired by the waldschule, his childhood school in the forests outside Lbeck, and by the pine circles of the native peoples of Ontario, it promises to be an extraordinary creation – a walk through the pine forests on his own 100-acre farm with pathways and “rooms” fashioned in the woods, places for spiritual reflection and delectable food… So we drove north to see it, my wife, my son, his wife and me.
It’s been a couple of years since I last saw Eigensinn Farm; the trees have grown up around the driveway so that I drove right past it and had to double back. But there were Michael and Nobuyo and their three apprentices busy in the gardens and about the open fire-pit outside the kitchen door.
“The Pine Spiel,” mused Michael. “Actually, I’ve postponed it until 2013 – Eigensinn’s 20th anniversary.”
“Oh…”
“Still, we can see it.”
So we walked – down to the pond, now stocked with brown and speckled trout but used more often as a swimming hole on sweltering summer nights than as a source of provender. Up the lane to the teepee field where a French landscape artist is going to create living sculptures using lines of plants along the contours of the land. Into the pine forests…
The mosquitoes were thick around us but they were Eigensinn mosquitoes and knew not to bite. We saw the work that Michael and his apprentices have already accomplished – pathways delineated by brushwood, clearings here and there, still abstract concepts, it’s true. No way this could be completed by August. And we came upon the sculptures left over from the last major walkabout – sculptures from the Heaven on Earth project – the chef with his tray, the earth-mother oven, the god of wine, the farmer made of rusting machinery, the underground house, the play house…
Michael showed us where he will plant an alley of 300 shoulder-high pine trees to lead from one patch of pine forest to the next, which he’s dedicating to David Suzuki. Then he showed us the Outside Dining Room, a new area planted with conifers where people can commission an al fresco dinner for a dozen friends. It will be ready by mid-August and is the sort of magical place that will be remembered forever by those lucky enough to dine there.
And then we were back in the farmyard, admiring the litter of piglets (a red wattle and black English cross), the new chickens, the indolent marmalade cat lying in the herb beds, the sunlight on the blackcurrant bushes. One of the apprentices brought out a plate of lightly smoked New Brunswick sturgeon sliced onto rye bread with a dab of crme frache and pungent purple chive flowers. Another brought slices of Eigensinn ham and a plate of cucumber, sliced thickly and briefly pickled in the Japanese way in miso and beer.
I was going to bring some of the new Carmenere ros from Cono Sur – my favourite foreign ros this summer, so full of juicy flavour – but thought it politic to stick to local wine, choosing Trius Sauvignon Blanc and Cave Spring Gamay. To honour my daughter-in-law, Kayo, Nobuyo brought out various rare sakes including something I had never tasted, an awamori at 43 percent alcohol by volume – more like an eau de vie than a sake and dazzlingly yummy. We drank it from beautiful little glasses that Nobuyo explained were made in Okinawa from vegetable ash and recycled Pepsi bottles from the local U.S. navy base. Magic!
Dinner took place indoors with friends, apprentices and family all sharing the farmhouse table. Nobuyo cooked rice and slippery mizuku seaweed, the first asparagus from the garden served with delicate fillets of pickerel, and a dish of crumbled wet tofu and dandelion greens. The main event was two legs of the least fortunate of Eigensinn’s piglets grilled outside on the barbecue until the juicy flesh was succulent and the crackling crispy and tissue-thin. With it came mashed potatoes stirred in with a handful of raw lovage leaves. Dessert was a rottegruze of stewed strawberries, rhubarb, raspberries and black currants in apple cider, topped with a chunk of sweet woodruff ice cream. We were eating the farm and it was heavenly.
