A Vermont Weekend of Family-Friendly Farmy Fun

A weekend with family and a cult-favorite cheddar cheese. It must be Vermont.

As a certified Horse Girl who escaped New York City for a riding camp in Vermont every summer, I have a special place in my heart for the Green Mountain State. I was never happier than in those months between the end of one school year and the beginning of the next, when I could leave my hair dryer at home (there was no electricity in the cabins anyway) and stuff my frizzy mane under a velvet helmet instead. Nobody worried about having the right kind of Steve Madden shoes because the only footwear that mattered at Camp Farwell was caked in manure. The trails we explored on horseback were incredibly beautiful, and though the cabins lacked running water, daily cold plunges in Halls Lake kept campers clean(ish). It was more nature in a few weeks than I experienced all year long, and it was heaven.

Would you believe it's been twenty years since I've been back to Vermont? When I heard about Vermont Cheese Week, I felt that old familiar urge to trade my view of buildings for a barnyard. This time around, I couldn’t decide if I was more excited about the state or the cheese. Vermont is increasingly defining itself as a culinary destination, especially in cities like Burlington, around 80 miles due west of where I’d spent those happy summers. Twenty minutes from the airport, Shelburne Farms makes a cult-favorite cheddar cheese from start to finish right on the premises. And it is in good company: From gems like Jasper Hill to top-quality supermarket staples like the farmer-owned Cabot Creamery, Vermont cheesemakers are churning out more varieties than one woman can shake a toothpick at.

For the trip, I enlist help from my mom and brother, who, like me, both entertain frequently and would never dream of having people over without a cheese board on the table. We realize we can squeeze into one room at the rather luxurious Shelburne Farms Inn if my brother is willing to sleep on a cot. The perils of being a younger sibling include getting last pick of the sleeping arrangements, even when you’re a full-grown adult (sorry, Nick).

Covering an astonishing 1400 acres of pastoral perfection, Shelburne Farms was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted (of Central Park and Prospect Park fame), with landscaping that emphasizes stunning views and lookout points to take your breath away. The Inn on the property has a rich history — it was designed as a home for the Vanderbilt-Webb family in the 19th century. Generations later, family members forfeited their own land inheritance, gifting Shelburne Farms to the public instead. As an education nonprofit, Shelburne Farms is both a beloved part of the local community and a nationally recognized leader in sustainability. The Inn provides seasonal lodging from May to October (24 rooms in the former estate home plus various guest houses). The campus provides walking trails, summer camps, and programming for adults and children around regenerative agriculture. “The magic is in the connection kids make when they’re on the property,” Shelburne Farms’ chief advancement officer, Robin Turnau, tells me. “They can come here and hand-milk the cow whose milk will become cheese, pull a carrot out of the ground, and see where food really comes from.”

We pick up turkey sandwiches on olive ciabatta (fresh-baked on site by O Bread) at the Farm Cart, a handy little lunch spot by the Farm Barn (a hive of activity where bread-baking and cheese-making take place), and stroll through a bountiful market garden where vines are heavy with watermelons and squash. Down the road, we find what Turnau affectionately calls “the solar orchard” — panels that power the vast majority of the property’s electric needs. Grazing sheep and cows are rotated through the fields to keep mowing to a minimum.

It’s not hard to see why Shelburne Farms cheddar is so special when you are here. Happy cows simply make better milk, and these cows are doted on. Visitors can see various aspects of the cheese-making process at all hours of the day on informative tours and determine their favorite cheddar by sampling different varieties. I am surprised to find I actually prefer the buttery texture and flavor of medium sharp cheddar over aged varieties, even though I automatically buy sharp cheddar when I shop. It’s sort of embarrassing to realize you don’t even know your own tastes, but there’s no better place to learn.

I have exactly one pair of shoes on my trip, my beloved Blundstones, and no one bats an eyelash when I wear them to dinner at the Inn. Looking out onto an astonishing view of Lake Champlain, with grand chandeliers overhead, everyone seems at home, from families with babies to a group celebrating an 80th birthday. Farm-grown and local ingredients are given proper reverence on the menu. That squash from the garden is roasted and set atop a zippy zhoug sauce; Nick and I fight over an ooey, gooey baked mac and cheese featuring multiple Shelburne Farms cheddars. An outstanding shepherd’s pie uses tender braised lamb instead of ground beef. I try not to think too hard about the sheep I petted earlier in the day.

We are ready to learn about more than just cheddar when we arrive for a cheese-board-making class taught by creamery manager Andi Wandt. She shares six Vermont cheeses and expert guidance on pairing and serving suggestions. I love the faint funk of the Willoughby from Jasper Hill Farm, while my mom falls for the tomme from Stony Pond Farm drizzled with Vermont maple caramel. After tasting the goods, we try out some fancy-seeming yet simple tricks for assembling a cheese board straight out of the pages of a magazine. I am particularly taken with how Wandt piles up matchsticks of clothbound cheddar into a tic-tac-toe-like Jenga tower. There are Cheese Week events happening across the state, but without a car, we rely on Wandt’s selections to bring us a taste. They are delicious across the (cheese) board.

We can’t leave without venturing into the Burlington dining scene, a quick Uber ride away. The city’s progressive politics are on full display as we come across a Pride parade and a Free Palestine demonstration on our way downtown, a rainbow Ben and Jerry’s truck parked right in the middle of the action. Having had our fill of cheese, we choose Honey Road for a dinner of eastern Mediterranean mezze. The popular woman-owned restaurant is getting considerable national attention after a James Beard Award nomination and the New York Times naming one of its dishes among the best of the year in 2023 (a halibut special, if you are wondering). The place is bustling, even on a Monday. Every table seems to have an order of harissa chicken wings — fantastic. I’m dying to recreate their tahini sundae topped with Butterfinger-like halvah, a sophisticated spin on my favorite candy bar as a kid. A fitting finish to a nostalgic trip.

Back at the inn, my mom marvels at the slumber party feel of our final night. Although we are lucky to travel occasionally with larger groups of family, friends, and significant others, we can’t remember the last time the three of us spent a long weekend together in such close proximity. I want to write a postcard like I did back in my camp days, but I don’t have anyone’s address anymore. Instead, I post a million pictures on Instagram, the modern way to say, “Wish you were here.”