The "Hoffman" Farm
Hoffman, Minnesota
What could be better than eating a cantaloupe in August picked first thing in the morning from the Hoffman Farm and consumed less than 24 hours after being plucked from the vine. This is a statement and not a question, but it does beg consideration. Perhaps, I might suggest a peach picked and eaten immediately from Pam Kelley’s sister’s orchard in southern Illinois, the kind of peach that sends juice cascading down your chin and into the crevices on your neck. Chuck would say it would be that perfect ear of corn picked early morning and eaten that very evening. For Chuck, corn would rival cantaloupe, but he is more than reasonably crazy over late July, early August corn from the Midwest, specifically Wisconsin, although Minnesota is in the running this year.
The Hoffman farm, in Hoffman, Minnesota, near Paul’s house on Lobster Lake, has provided us the corn and the melon this year, and we report we are in heaven. This is despite the fact that Charles Hoffman, son of Richard, grandson of William, great grandson of John, great-great grandson of Johann from Wisconsin, is of no relation to these Hoffman’s, their farm or their town here in Minnesota. This has been verified more than multiple times by every Hoffman that lives on the farm out here, past Farwell. Chuck has happily chatted about possibly being related to every poor kid selling fresh produce from that stand. His compulsion to pepper our purchases with questions about Hoffman relationships in the Midwest has driven me nuts for 2 weeks. I now refuse to even get out of the car anymore when we stop.
That being said, Chuck’s attachment to the Minnesota Hoffman’s is understandable. The longing to be connected is deep within us. Our cells recognize the attachment we feel when we are eating something real and good and from the earth. The yearning to understand how we belong to the earth and each other is compelling and universal. This time of Covid and Delta makes that connection even more powerful.
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