Ross McKinney '09 - Slowly, but surely, the truth settled in: we were lost.  Jacob Peerman, Dr. Richard Bowen, and I were on our quest to find Capriole Farm and Huber Winery, both in extreme southern Indiana.  Following a three-hour drive down I-65 and US-150, we relied on our Google map directions to deliver us to our destination.  Apparently the program did not really know where Capriole Farm was, but sent us to the nearby town, Greenville.  Twenty minutes later, as noon approached, we found ourselves surveying fruit trees and vineyards instead of goats. We had, without trying, found our way to Huber Vineyards. Unfortunately, Peerman’s appointment at the Winery was not until 2:00 PM

The ladies at the Winery’s information counter were kind enough to provide directions – and even repeated them for us. Back in the car, we set off again.  Naturally, as a car-full of men, we did not bother with writing the advice down.  Asking a charming fellow exhibiting a definite “Kentuckiana” drawl which direction was which, we somehow managed to find our way back to Greenville. After Dr. Bowen asked both a local liquor purveyor and a “Minit Market” employee (“Oh, you’re looking for the ‘Goat Factory!’), we were finally on the right track. 

We rolled up the lengthy driveway, not knowing what to expect after our four-hour trek from Wabash. Some buildings, including a house, several barns, and a flat-roofed block building were on the premises, but with no sign, no parking lot, and no traditional mercantile accoutrement.  We were eventually directed to the “storefront.”  The room, no larger than a Wabash dorm room, was decorated with copies of the tens of awards, stories, and publications in which Capriole has been featured. I was confident the trip would be worth the effort and time; Capriole is consistently the only Indiana cheese venue featured in the numerous books on world and national cheeses. 

Some time later, after waiting in the small room with a counter, the gardener asked if we were being helped where he then sought Judy Schad, the owner and proprietor of the cheesery. By then, one of the gainful employees had made a platter of some $60 worth of cheese for us to taste. She had no idea who we were; this was no special treatment. We were told of the three general types of cheeses offered: fresh, aged, and rind-washed.  Through the heavily accented English, we learned the names and types of the nine cheeses presented, including: fresh goat rounds (with and without herbs); O’Bannon – named for Indiana’s former governor – a fresh chevre aged in chesnut leaves that have been marinated in bourbon; Wabash Cannonball (close to our hearts), with a double rind of ash and white mold; and finally the Mont St. Francis, an aged, washed-rind cheese with an absolutely phenomenal taste and aroma.

Then, in a moment, the already-fruitful road trip ripened into what was to become an unforgettable experience – when Judy Schad entered the tasting room.

She initially seemed hurried, seemingly just stopping in to ensure our service was adequate. After introducing myself, she remembered that I had e-mailed her regarding my project and my trip intentions. My hope of meeting her, though her schedule was erratic and often led her abroad, was fulfilled beyond my broadest expectations. Her attention to the cheese struck me first. She immediately took the cutting knife and began instructing her intern on the correct method of slicing through the rind and the outside of the cheese.  The flavor was concentrated here and “it is crucial for everyone to experience it”, she explained. She sampled the cheese with us. She was obviously and unabashedly in love with it. She knew every single flavor and every single texture intricacy and nuance that composed the cheese. She continued to explain each batch is different and has its own character to offer. After speaking with us for some 30 minutes, she suddenly remembered that she had left her car running. Her focus on our questions, comments, and the cheese itself had entranced all of us, even Judy, in her 20th year as a cheesemaker.  

We then toured the cheesemaking facility, seeing the interns salting and portioning the cheese. We walked into the aging rooms and storage shelves seeing literally tens of thousands of dollars in goat cheese. The facility seemed like any other with multiple rooms, coolers and (noisy) fans, but the work and attitude performed in the rooms is clearly extraordinary.

Next, we walked to the barns, first to the wire pens that contained the six-week-old kids (goats). It was clear that Judy loves her herd as much as she does the final product. In all, we saw about a quarter of the total herd, including the nearly bursting does, about to birth after their five-month gestation period. The other 400 goats were grazing freely out in the woods of the farm. It would soon be time for them to be beckoned to the milking parlor. Capriole makes milk every three days: freshness and milk storage capacity determine the schedule.

Then, just when we expected to be sent on our way after an already generous one and a half hours, Judy offered us beverages and a seat. We proceeded to discuss the highly-debated and often-contentious subject of raw milk products. The subject is one that has many legitimate concerns, as well as potential benefits. Raw-milk cheese must be aged for sixty days at a temperature not lower than 35 degrees Fahrenheit. Naturally, as with any dairy product, the risk of bacteria is very real. Judy Schad treats her animals, the storage tanks, implements, and the workers as potential sources of disease and pathogens. She spends more than $5,000 dollars a year for non-required testing of her cheeses and animals. While the FDA is satisfied with far less, it is not enough to keep Judy confident that her products are safe. The debates and arguments are complicated, but Judy Schad is persuasive in arguing for the continued availability of raw-milk cheeses.

The conversation astounded me. A dedication to sustainable and efficient practices just makes sense to Judy Schad. Much of her world-class cheese is sold to cheesemongers and restaurants in cities such as New York and Chicago. Word of Capriole Farm makes its way across the Atlantic when Judy travels to Italy, France, and England to explore her desire for great cheese. Most of the world’s best cheeses come from individual farms and individual cheesemakers, who focus on quality and traditional cheese-making procedures. Judy Schad and her colleagues are not fixated on the “bottom line,” or on producing cheeses that end up being melted over burgers in some fast-food chain’s “value meals.”

Capriole Farm’s cheese is incredibly delicious - it is simply the best I have ever eaten, because Judy pours her heart, soul, and wit into it. The trip to Capriole will not soon be forgotten. It is true that my Capriole cheese-stocked refrigerator will help to sustain the memory, but I expect my lasting impressions to be of Judy Schad’s inspiration and dedication to her craft.