This month started with a rare night out for Nick and I. The reason? To collect a bounty of silverware at the annual Nairn Show awards dinner.
The well-attended evening, with dinner and live music, is something of a highlight in the farming social calendar.
I still remember the first year I accompanied Nick to the ceremony and being astounded by the sheer volume of cups, salvers and rosebowls on sparkling display.
Prizes are awarded for all things rural from best jam, baking and handicraft to agricultural trophies for best in beef, dairy, horse and sheep categories. This year, Nick won no less than three big cups for his dairy herd and a trophy featuring a replica black-and-white cow on wooden plinth complete with grass, which has found a home on a shelf in Daisy’s playroom.
The prize-giving always marks the beginning of autumn for me.
It also heralds the end of the busy events season for the ice cream for another year.
During the summer months, we contracted out the running of the Caterpod to my brother, John, so that Nick didn’t have to work seven days a week (instead of his usual six). But if truth be told, I think he rather missed it and I can understand why.
Seven years ago, Nick and I attended markets and events with rare-breed pork – a short-lived farm diversification – which was hard work but great fun. Getting positive feedback from customers about food you’ve helped produce is rewarding. Running our own market stall was also an experience: labelling and pricing the various pork products, advising consumers how best to cook different cuts, suggesting recipes, and counting up the cash at the end of the day.
Running the ice cream stall at an event is similar, but perhaps even more gratifying because customers are so delighted when they get to the counter and see the rainbow of candy coloured napolis, particularly our little customers.
It’s a world away from working on the farm – and writing, for that matter.
When we went along to Living Food at Cawdor Castle at the end of September, which John attended with the pink Pod, I could see Nick itching to jump in and help.
In the past, Daisy and I have come along to this lovely family event celebrating the best food and crafts the Highlands has to offer, and he’ll take a 10-minute break to walk around with us.
It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy spending time with us (I hope!), but more a case of wanting to be hands-on, much like on the farm.
In common with many farmers I suspect, Nick has a hard time delegating, preferring to do everything himself whenever humanly possible.
Sometimes it’s better not going along, which is why we left my brother to it for the grand finale of the season: the Baxters Loch Ness Marathon and Festival of Running. Its scenic routes and variety of races attracted some 8,000 competitors this year along with thousands of spectators.
Besides our ice cream, runners and their supporters could feast on tempting things like hog roast, wholesome soup, venison burgers, fortifying risotto, hot pancakes, fresh coffee, craft beers and whisky tastings on offer.
It’s when you go along to events like the Running Festival and Living Food that you realise how much fantastic food and drink is available right here in the Highlands.
What’s more, the majority of the stalls, particularly at Cawdor, are run by enterprising farmers and crofters.
Like us, these cheese makers, chocolatiers, fruit and veg growers, oil producers and artisan bakers all have to run their businesses outside of the events season and while bustling foodie fayres provide an excellent platform for garnering publicity, I think we are united in our goal of trying to build our profile and boost sales year-round.
A Scottish Government funded initiative set up to help local food producers do exactly this is Think Local (www.thinkscotland.co.uk).
Designed to “develop a commercial and sustainable local food and drink sector in Scotland”, Think Local’s projects to date include establishing food networks and trails, delivering training, creating food-themed events and supporting farmers’ markets.
One particular farming food group that successfully collaborated last year with help from Think Local was the rapeseed oil sector. Scotland now has eight rapeseed oil producers and they decided to team up to increase their collective presence in retail outlets, and ultimately, kitchens across the country and farther afield. They formed a network, simply called Scottish Rapeseed Oil, and received funding from Think Local’s Community Food Fund to set up their website (www.scotrapeseedoil.co.uk).
Using their signature rapeseed-yellow as a backdrop, the website is fresh and inviting, profiling each grower-producer and their oils along with the many health benefits of rapeseed. There are also links to notable chefs and foodie fans of the home grown golden oil as well as sweet and savoury recipes.
Think Local has also helped establish a similar network of fish merchants producing and selling Arbroath smokies as well as specialist foodie trails for berry growers and chocolatiers across the country.
Particularly relevant and exciting for us, however, is the latest Think Local initiative – Scotland’s Ice Cream Trail.
Featuring 119 outlets that make and sell their own ice cream, the trail includes all types of venue from farm diversifications like our own Highland-based business and Stewart Tower Dairy in Perthshire to long-established Italian gelaterias like Vissochi’s (Broughty Ferry and Kirriemuir).
The colourful Ice Cream Trail leaflet lists all 119 outlets as well as pinpointing them on a map and contains fun facts, trivia and a little history about the popular sweet treat.
It seems unlikely (and unadvisable) for even the most ardent ice cream aficionado to visit every outlet on the trail, but instead use it as a guide to the best ice cream shops across the country. It’s good to know that wherever you are in Scotland you can source a good local scoop rather than settling for a substandard Mr Whippy.
Next time: the big move – relocating milk production to Rootfield
Rootfield Farm is on the Black Isle, 10 miles north of Inverness, where Jo lives with husband Nick, a fourth-generation dairy farmer, their daughter Daisy and 150 cows