My Roots

When I was five we moved onto Wind hover Farm. It was a beautiful farm where we raised Black Angus. At the height of our production we had about one hundred head of a cattle roaming around our place. It was idyllic, and it was a lot of hard work. As an eight year old spending my Saturdays knee high in cow muck was never very pleasing idea. But growing up with these animals gave me a deep appreciation of what it takes to bring an incredible piece of meat to the table.

This weekend we were all down at the Metolious River and my dad brought down twelve beautiful choice rib eye steaks. He grilled them on the Webber and I prepared the other dishes. At dinner he gave a little tutorial about how to grill a great Rib eye steak. I love those little moments.

The picture above is my dad on the left with my uncle Jim and steaks in the foreground.