the perfect august evening: a farm dinner by blackbelly catering at isabelle farm

When I first saw an email for this dinner  - a farm-to-table affair hosted by Blackbelly Catering at Isabelle Farm – pop into my inbox, I knew I wanted to secure a couple of seats right away.  It was a complete no-brainer, being that this special night would combine some of my favorite things into one neatly wrapped little dinner package: a farm whose produce I eagerly snap up every Saturday at the Boulder Farmer’s Market, a dinner that would embody the local and farm-to-table ethics I believe in and aspire to maintain, a menu that had me absolutely salivating for weeks, and, to boot, all of it pulled together by a chef who I’d rooted for throughout season five of Top Chef, Hosea Rosenberg.  And all of these things happening on a perfect mid-August night just twenty minutes from my doorstep?  Jackpot.

Last Saturday evening, we were dressed and ready for the night early, as there was a farm tour slated at 4:30 PM, an hour before the dinner was to kick off.  I was nearly out the door in a pair of wedges before smartening up, and reached for a more ‘farm friendly’ pair of hay-tromping flats – and I’m so glad my surely-much-smaller-rational-fashion side prevailed. (Apparently the heeled NY’er in me isn’t dead just yet.)  We were warmly welcomed to the farm by the sweet Marketing and Events Director of Blackbelly, Karen, who was clad in an adorable polka dot dress and was effortlessly put together and totally serene – even though she was at the helm of organizing and directing a dinner for over forty people out in the middle of a field amongst tractors and barns.  After greeting us, she quickly had us situated with mason jars full of tart lemonade and a couple of seats under a white tent illuminated with twinkling lights.  As we walked closer to the immaculately maintained fields, we were introduced to Jason Condon, who runs the farm alongside his wife Natalie.  With his sweet and spunky daughter Lucy close by and his cute black dog running circles around our ankles, Jason began to give us some background about the farm, the practice of organic farming, and the eighty varietals that grow on their seventy-acre property.

We plodded through the troughs that lay between the different vegetables, and Jason pointed out expansive rows of eggplant, okra, peppers, sweet corn, and melons.  He gave a synopsis of each vegetable and how and when it was planted, the difficulties associated with maintaining and growing the crop, and the various trials and tribulations involved with harvesting.  I learned that watermelon is notoriously hard to pinpoint when ripe; so much so, in fact, that there is only one lady on the entire farm allowed to pick them – as everyone else’s track record is abysmal, and their attempts amount to watery, pale, and decidedly unripe specimens.  I knelt over and ran my fingers over the velvety vine of one of the huge stripy-green orbs, and inhaled deeply as we passed over dirt that still felt moist underfoot.  There is a definite primal feeling that one gets when standing on soil that has the ability to thrust forth perfect naturally cultivated versions of simple food, and I was incredibly impressed with the entire operation.  The manual labor involved with running an organic farm is staggering, and I know even from attempting to keep my tiny 5 x 10 ‘organic’ home-veggie-patch pest free and generally happy looking is an everyday challenge.  (Farmer Jason would surely be unimpressed by my unruly tomato plants and scraggy broccoli crowns, but I hope I’d get credit for giving it the old college try.)  Here, rows of brilliant and shiny purple eggplant peeked shyly out from under broad leaves, okra rose triumphantly towards the sun in fat green spikes, and the sweet corn (which actually won’t even return more than a few pennies to the Condon family, but which they grow for “fun”) stood much taller than my head, and waved in the warm late-Summer breeze, cutting an undulating golden silhouette against the looming Rockies.

As we walked back over to the tent, we were greeted with flutes of chilly Prosecco, which was the perfect beverage to accompany the gorgeous appetizers that were soon whisked over from the nearby kitchen tents.  Balanced gracefully on long and slender wine barrel staves, the small bites were delicious: plump grapes enrobed in salty goat cheese and dribbled with truffle oil, flash fried shishito peppers smattered with flakey sea salt, tender beef carpaccio wrapped around tomato confit, farm fresh peaches enrobed in sheets of melting lardo, melon and tomato bites with feta, and, my favorite, creamy little parcels of sweet corn custard wrapped in thinly sliced and salty coppa.  I must have indulged in at least three of each, and had to be repeatedly reminded by one more level-headed better-half that there was an appetite that needed saving for the impending full five course meal.

We settled in for dinner underneath the tent, and it was apparent that no detail had gone unnoticed in the intimate setting.  Small clothespins fastened menus to freshly pressed napkins, mason jars held water for drinking between sips of the wine tasting, and gorgeous rustic bouquets dotted the long farm-style tables.  We started off with a chilled corn soup, accented by a piece of flaky smoked trout, and a dollop of basil pesto and smear of huitlacoche, or “corn smut.”  This offensive sounding thing actually turned out to be delicious, as the ‘smut’ refers to a type of mushroom that grows on the corn stalks and is savory and earthy in flavor.  The soup was divine – perfectly chilled and fresh tasting, with just enough texture from the garnishes to be interesting and fun.  After soup, it was on to a delicious charred Summer vegetable salad, full of grilled produce, studded with pepitas, and enrobed in a scallion vinaigrette.  Next came a refreshing cantaloupe granita to cleanse our veggie-sated palates, and ready us for what stood out to be Blackbelly and Chef Hosea’s proudest dish: a nose-to-tail tasting of their home-raised Berkshire Pork.  We were treated to a dish that utilized ten different parts of the pig – pigs that were all hand-raised at Karen’s house just a few miles away.  There was tender belly, croquettes made with the trotter, and a sweet square of tete de cochon.  There were other thoughtfully arranged parts of the animal that all came together under an umbrella of flavors influenced by New Orleans, and the entire plate was fabulous, well crafted, and lovingly presented.  Just as we were moving on to the fourth savory course, fat raindrops started to weasel their way out of the dark clouds that had swooshed out and over our heads from seemingly nowhere, but in the end the plates were served seamlessly by the wonderful staff braving whippy winds and sideways rainfall.  We tucked in to a plate of rare-cooked lamb (accented with a few mountain raindrops) that was set atop a tomato tartlette, and we hunkered down and scooched in tight.  Rounds of “you know they say in Colorado ‘if you don’t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes….’” could be heard throughout the tent, and before we had even put our forks down there was a (double!) rainbow in the sky, and the sun had started to fade into a technicolor display of red, burnt orange, and fiery yellow.

Glasses of dessert wine were poured, and just as I was groaning that Icouldn’tpossiblytakeanotherbite, a dish of grilled poundcake, Colorado peaches, mascarpone gelato, and fresh honey comb was plunked down in front of me – and, of course, I somehow managed.  The gelato was creamy and plush, and was a perfect foil for the sweet peaches, crisp tinged pound cake, and sticky honeycomb.  After dinner, I took a few minutes to chat with Hosea and thank him for such an incredible meal, and he was incredibly easy going, talkative, and very humble – though it’s clear that he has something really special in the works.  I had a few moments to catch up with Karen’s husband, a photographer named Mark, who was equally gracious, kind, and helpful.  The evening was so well curated, and the food — unbeatable; it was truly a special night in Colorado that I am very thankful I was able to experience.  Both Isabelle Farm and Blackbelly Catering are true inspirations for me, as a fledgling chef and gardener, and I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening then experiencing a marriage of the two in a beautiful setting that not even these photographs can truly capture.

{walking up to the farm}

{gorgeous views of the rockies from east boulder county}

{a still-operational tractor from the 1940′s that was passed down by jason’s father}

{the clearest night with just a hint of coolness}

{sunflowers + cornfields}

{sweet corn that will be hand-picked}

{fallen fruit that will serve as organic compost}

{jason condon}

{a fat + juicy (and hard to pick!) watermelon}

{rows of eggplant}

{the golden hour, indeed}

{corn over head-high}

{blackbelly catering}

{hosea + the blackbelly team, setting up and getting ready for service}

{cold glasses of bubbles ready and waiting after the farm tour}

{goat cheese, grape, and pistachio “truffles”}

{bubbles + abundant evening sunshine}

{farm melon, tomato, and basil skewers with goat feta}

{sweet corn custard wrapped in coppa, tied with a chive}

{rustic touches perfectly befit the setting}

{prime beef carpaccio, tomato confit, reggiano, smoked paprika}

{a perfectly seasonal menu}

{happy}

{first course: chilled sweet corn soup, huitlacoche, smoked trout, basil}

{second course: charred summer vegetable salad, squash blossoms, fresh ricotta, scallion vin}

{palate cleanser: cantaloupe granita}

{chef hosea explaining his favorite dish: the nose to tail pork tasting}

{third course: berkshire pork tasting (10 parts of the pig!), smoky collards, dirty rice, cornbread pudding}

{absolutely delicious}

{battening down the hatches, putting out the fourth course}

{fourth course: lavender roast lamb loin, heirloom tomato tart, eggplant “caviar”, quinoa, yogurt}

{clear skies in time for a sunset}

{dessert course: grilled poundcake, ela family farms peaches, mascarpone gelato, honeycomb}

{wrapping up the night}

{totally sated after a wonderful meal}

{sunset at the farm}

{electric skies}

{gorgeous blooms}

{a perfect way to end the night}