I can’t remember where I first heard about Blackberry Farm—maybe on Food
Network? The
Blackberry Farm cookbook has been on my bookshelf for years,
tempting me with gorgeous food photography and images of rolling pastures, a
candlelit barn and outdoor picnics. A
stay at Blackberry Farm topped my bucket list.
Did you notice
the past tense?
In April, my sweetheart and I spent two nights at the
family-owned Blackberry Farm, greeted with warm Southern smiles and
chocolate-pecan ‘Welcome’ cookies on our pillows that are, perhaps, the best
cookies ever. We ate them
too quickly to snap a picture. But,
I have requested the recipe. Think
chess pie meets chocolate chips meets cookie.
Blackberry Farm lives up to its reputation.
The ultimate destination for farm-to-table-obsessed
food lovers, Blackberry Farm embodies the interwoven Southern trifecta of food,
family and place, preserving and elevating traditional Tennessee foothills food
culture, all in a refined country setting. Sam Beall and his family
have created an oasis for those who love and appreciate real food and those who
support a real food movement.
Our room in the original farmhouse, with its
toile-covered walls and feather-topped bed, inspired several naps over the
course of the weekend.
While Blackberry Farm is known for its elaborate
and uber-local multi-course dinners, the breakfasts and lunches can certainly
stand proudly on their own merit. Almost
everything—including the breads, sauces and pickled vegetables—are made
on-site, and the homemade philosophy truly makes a difference. As does the Southern hospitality.
At lunch the second day, I debated out loud with
myself between the barbeque brisket or fried green tomato sandwiches. Which one to choose? Our server kindly suggested I
get half of each sandwich, with a side of sweet potato fries. Yes, please!
Think about the best roast beef sandwich you’ve ever
had, including the special sauce. And
then imagine it elevated 10 times better. Tender, slightly smoky slices of
farm-raised beef brisket sandwiched on a buttered and grilled homemade roll
with just enough of a subtly-sweet, tangy sauce with crispy, crunchy onion
rings—on the sandwich. Oh,
and white cheddar cheese made at the farm’s creamery. Heaven.
Not to be
outdone by the aforementioned fried green tomato sandwich—a cornmeal battered
and perfectly-fried green tomato on buttered, toasted bread with smoky Benton’s
bacon from down the road, and an herbed aioli.
Scrumptious, delectable choice.
I shared, of
course, eating half of each of the halves and giving the other halves to my
sweetheart. I highly
recommend choosing a partner in life who likes to share.
At Blackberry
Farm, you do need to share—and pace yourself. Every time you turn around, there are
homemade cookies, chocolates and desserts offered with every meal. We started stock-piling the cookies
and treats and left at the end of the weekend with a bag filled with goodies.
Breakfast is one of those meals where you can truly
and immediately judge the quality of ingredients. Just take a look at these eggs.
Yolks like that come from happy chickens. And it doesn't hurt that they’re
swimming in a ham and ramp broth.
And we were certainly happy eaters, enjoying breakfast
outside at the picnic tables overlooking the pastures and the pond.
While the reputation of the food at Blackberry Farm
first drew me, the picturesque farm setting and accompanying gentile activities
available on the 4,200 acres complete the experience into a true
vacation. Fly fishing,
horseback riding, biking, spa treatments, lessons on gardening and cooking—it’s
all available.
We indulged in the simple pleasures of the farm,
beginning with the tree swing.
Laughter, especially with someone you love, truly nourishes
the soul.
We filled the sun-drenched afternoon with a short hike
in the woods (fear of poison ivy turned us around), an hour on the tennis
court, a leisurely canoe ride around the pond with the guitar in tow, and a nap
by the pool before dinner.
We felt spoiled. And very happy in this fairy tale world.
Dinner at Blackberry Farm is like eating a living
diary of the farm itself. Everything
on the plate reflects the season and the bounty of the farm’s gardens, bakery,
butchery, salumaria and creamery. The
ramps, morel mushrooms, strawberries and spring onions featured on the menus
clearly indicated spring’s arrival.
The whole dining experience is exquisite.
The Barn itself feels magical, candlelit and filled
with tables set with antique linens, custom china and sterling silver place
settings.
Every dish coming out of the open kitchen felt
carefully crafted and yet simple at the same time. Approachable, clean, and simply delicious—it’s just
what good food tastes like. Good food, from good sources, expertly prepared.
I won’t stretch out details about each of
the sixteen courses we had over the two dinners, but here are a few highlights.
A beet salad
with a blue cheese mousse converted a non-blue cheese lover into a believer.
Guinea confit with potato gnocchi and Hen of the Wood
mushrooms made us want to lick the bowl. And look at how beautiful.
Our server poured the potato and spring onion soup
tableside into bowls laced with mushroom gelée and spring onion panna cotta,
giving alternating earth and bright bursts of flavor in every spoonful. We're going to try and recreate this dish.
Roasted—and very crispy—Peking duck breast was
playfully presented with a cornmeal crepe to fill with the accompanying
asparagus, morel mushrooms, snap peas, ramps and dip in a little sweet tea
gastrique. Need we say more?
At its core, the idyllic Blackberry Farm is a place of
nourishment, and nourishing yourself is about more than just food. It
begins with food, but it doesn't take long to realize we nourish ourselves with
the adventures we take, the people we love, the traditions we follow and the
philosophies we embrace. Who we are—and who we want to be—both are nourished by
the world we live in and the worlds we visit when we travel. When we’re living
our best lives, everything and everyone nourishes us. And Blackberry Farm
allows you to live your best life—even if only for a weekend.
