Just after settling into our Euro-rustic guest tent at Kinnikinnick Farm, our family gathered around a wooden table as our host, Susan Cleverdon, delivered dinner. Asparagus, fresh from the field, was ready to be steamed. Tender baby greens awaited homemade vinaigrette. And in the center, a golden roast chicken, also raised at Kinnikinnick. "This chicken lived and died right here," Susan said, putting her basket down with a thump.
Outside, chickens clucked contentedly.
"Errr, or not died here," she backtracked, "but, you know, lived here!"
Which is why, as we sat down to eat, 5-year-old Thomas, grim as a prosecutor, asked, "Did Susan kill the chicken?"
Well, not exactly. But it does make for lively table talk.
Parents have been bringing children to farms for years to see fuzzy chicks and get up close and personal with cows. But today's urban and suburban families are embracing a more nuanced version of farm visits, one that centers on food. Make that ultrafresh, locally grown food, brought from field to table right before your eyes. It's a concept that is drawing foodies (uber-chef Grant Achatz has been a Kinnikinnick guest) as well as families.
"Part of the reason to come here," says Maureen Flaherty, visiting with granddaughters Brigid Flaherty and Shannon Harrison, both 12, "is to show them you don't just go to the store and buy a tomato. Someone had to work hard to get that out of the ground."
It's an education in eating. And if you're lucky, it comes at a place like Kinnikinnick, the organic northern Illinois farm owned by Susan and husband David. Here, even the news about where roast chicken comes from doesn't dampen the joy of running wild through a field or milking a goat. Or watching fireflies rise into a warm summer night while you munch on pizza from the farm's wood-burning pizza oven.
Oh, yeah â€" there are still fuzzy chicks.
Our family's farm stay was planned as a rural adventure, with a side of good food. Known more for a love of high heels and gadgets than for a love of the outdoors, we saw Kinnikinnick's guest tents (imagine a canvas-walled cabin, complete with bunk beds and French press coffee pot) as a more doable version of camping. The sheer number of "Green Acres" jokes made by our friends was a tad alarming. But armed with bug spray, flashlights, good olive oil and balsamic vinegar, we were undeterred.
It worked. Our kids, entrenched suburbanites and nobody's locavores (one of them steadfastly refuses to eat any meat other than chicken nuggets), quickly fell under the spell of Kinnikinnick. When they weren't exploring the tent or tagging along for farm chores with David, the resident pied piper, they became free-range children. Though they are rarely allowed to wander on our block back home, it felt right to let them roam on the farm.
"If it feels like you're on a visit to grandpa's farm," Susan says. "That's the goal."
And that's exactly how it felt.
Kinnikinnick exists in that part of the vacation Venn diagram where "plenty to do" and "nothing to do" intersect. Sure, there are other guests to befriend, eggs to be collected, tomatoes to check, dogs who wouldn't mind a scratch. But for the most part, the schedule is intentionally nonexistent. You wake in the morning, roll up the tent flaps, and make breakfast â€" maybe just a bagel from a nearby bakery, found in the farm's amply stocked honor store. Or, say, pancakes sprinkled with just-picked strawberries alongside thick-cut bacon from the farm down the road. And while you're waiting by the outdoor cook stove to flip your pancakes, you discover the genius of farm pacing. You notice the breeze rippling across the cornfield next to you. You catch the just-distant-enough sound of your children laughing. And you realize that, without trying, you've shifted into a lower gear.
When the Cleverdons bought the farm in the early '80s, it was a wreck. "People thought we'd burn the buildings down and bury them," David says. They renovated and restored the old farm house, made use of or replaced farm buildings, and started growing niche vegetable crops, including rare Italian cooking greens that are now sought by top chefs in Chicago. Today, Kinnikinnick is increasing its chicken production and is slowly adding other livestock to the farming operation.
What completes the picture, according to Susan, is the farm-stay program, just opened to visitors this season. "I have amazing memories of grownups all sitting close in the dark, talking," she says, "and the kids forming the outer circle, catching fireflies. And potentially, that's what this can be. This feels like a chance to share something we found so wonderful."
By the time we leave Kinnikinnick, with an armload of pristine collard greens and a few new friends, all of us have a better appreciation for the link between farm and table (though our chicken nugget eater is still unmoved). But, just as important, we have a renewed appreciation for open fields and starlit country skies. And the knowledge that farms, as it turns out, can be at once deliciously earthbound â€" and quietly transcendent.
If you go
Booking a farm stay
Farm stays, long a tradition in Europe, are gaining ground in the U.S. Kinnikinnick Farm and two New York properties are booked via Feather Down Farm Days (featherdown.com), which handles reservations, payment, and ordering of extras such as bike rentals or a farm dinner upon arrival. Rates are $525 to $565 per tent for a two-night stay. To look for other farm properties offering guest accommodations, a good source is farmstayus.com, a website that lists farm and ranch stays throughout the country.
What to bring
Though the deluxe tents at Kinnikinnick meant we weren't exactly roughing it, we did find a few things that came in handy: a good bottle of wine or two; a Sorry game and a pack of cards; extra flashlights (it really does get dark out there); and a few favorite ingredients that would enable our farm cooking. Two gadgets also made the trip with us: walkie-talkies, so we could call our wandering kids back to the tent, and an iPod speaker, because everything is better set to music.
Leaving the farm
If you're looking to venture beyond Kinnikinnick, South Beloit, Wis., offers a Saturday morning farmers market to extend your locavore experience. Sample Elisia's Mexican Ice, paleta-style cups of frozen fruit; grab some locally harvested honey from Donna Gilberts, and stop into Bushel & Peck's market, which focuses on sustainable, locally produced food. It's also a good place to stop for a coffee or to pick up a sandwich or two for a picnic. Also nearby is the Long Prairie Bike Trail, a 14.2-mile paved stretch that passes through cornfields, forests and even golf courses. Continuing the focus on food, it also has a handy stopping point at Poplar Grove's Trail Stop ice-cream shop.
cdampier@tribune.com
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