TREE HOUSES! Peter Hofmann is up a tree for his building lesson. (Christian Johnston)
MOONSHINE! This upstate camper is making hooch. (Christian Johnston)
FIREWORKS! Park Sloper Toscha Alberts has fun with a Roman candle. (Christian Johnston)
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It’s the time of year when many NYC kids are packed off to sleep-away camp to commune with nature, play sports and learn how to make friendship bracelets.
And now, adults are getting into the sleep-away act — admittedly in a different way.
At the weekend-long overnight camp Take It Offsite, on Clawhammer Farm in upstate Lisle, hipster campers make their own cheese, distill moonshine, slaughter and roast chickens and pigs for their dinner, and build treehouses.
It’s like a Martha Stewart camp for the Williamsburg set — but with the possibility of getting a shot of chicken blood in your eye.
Still, about 20 campers, armed with tents and sleeping bags, pay $350, plus service or rental fees, for the privilege.
Elke Hofmann, a 41-year-old attorney from Carroll Gardens, calls it “a very Brooklyn weekend.” But, she adds, “I could live without choking a chicken.”
Take It Offsite was founded by Brooklynites Margaret Raimondi, a conference producer, and Ari Joseph, who runs a youth hostel. They hold the camp in various locations. Last weekend marked their first-ever summer event — and this one was arranged to try and capture the foodie craze.
Raimondi, who created the event so people can learn new disciplines, says the Offsite happenings need to be away from New York for people to really get into the spirit of it. “When people get out of the city, they are more willing to try new things,” she says. “They are more welcoming, open and not as competitive.”
Die-hards arrive early Friday evening to set up tents and witness a pig being butchered. On Saturday night, it’s down to business. In the main barn, Brooklyn couple Brownen and Hackett build a large moonshine still out of a keg, a cocktail shaker, some buckets and plumbing parts, and explain the process. (They asked that their full names not be published due to the illegal nature of moonshining.)
“There’s a huge misconception about home brewing,” Brownen says. “People are afraid it will explode — but it’s a lot less dangerous than, say, making it in a pressure cooker.”
Inside the farmhouse, Caroline Brown teaches a do-it-yourself sauerkraut class. As more than a dozen campers hack at their daikon, cabbage and carrots, Brown chirps, “It’s practically impossible to get botulism from home canning!” Good to know.
While farmer Nick Westveldt and Max, a temp from Brooklyn, watch over the pig roasting in a pit, cheese enthusiasts Lily Spencer and Sara Lieber show people how to make homemade ricotta and mozzarella, all under the watchful eye sockets of two mummified cats perched on a low barn rafter.
“Stinky cheese smells like feet because it has the same bacteria that’s found on a foot,” Spencer tells us — at which point, I wander back to the booze.
Inside the kitchen of the farmhouse, Mike Kelberman, an amateur mixologist and expert infuser, perfects his liquor concoctions (Ginger lime rum! Hibiscus moonshine! Thyme and jasmine vodka!). “Infusion takes a lot of time apparently,” quips one camper. “It’s like two days for one jar of a good drink that’s going to be gone in 15 minutes.”
A carpenter who goes by the name Dr. Pepper leads classes on treehouse building, although none of his student audience has a tree back home to build upon. Despite not having a backyard, Kristina Hsu, a 34-year-old marketer from Manhattan, says, “Maybe I’ll build a mini level in my apartment.”
By 9 p.m., we’re ravaging a pig carcass and drinking moonshine around a fire, followed by setting off rounds of fireworks. In an effort to delay sleeping in my jerry-rigged, rented tent, I go along with some fellow campers for a swim in the nearby lake. But visions of “Friday the 13th” get the better of me and, instead of taking a dip, I leave five or six others frolicking in the water and head for bed.
It’s a rough and buggy night, and I wake up at 6 a.m. While my dog, Karl, rolls around in the the leftover pig roast drippings from the night before in a demented fugue, I grab some breakfast and wait for the chicken-slaughtering class.
The campers have mixed interests. Some come to get out of the city for the weekend. Most have a farm-to-table interest in foods. A few want to convince their significant others that camping “isn’t so bad” while appeasing him or her with cooking classes — while others want to see if they can widen their social circles.
“I went to the first Offsite to meet new people and friends,” Sarah Lidguss, 36, says. The East Villager adds, “That one was more design focused. This one has been great but, not knowing the finer points of my tent, I woke up in rain water.” Her girlfriend Hosannah Asuncion, a 35-year-old from Bedford-Stuyvestant, also finds the event interesting but adds, “There’s a slight disappointment knowing now that I couldn’t live like this. I’m now wondering if I could survive the apocalypse.”
Fun fact: When someone is cutting a chicken’s neck, stand at least 3 feet back, or you will get chicken blood in your hair, eyes and clothing. About 10 of us stand around as Farmer Nick grabs a chicken from a box and shoves it upside down into a cut-off traffic cone so its head is hanging out.
“You want to slit its neck as opposed to just chopping its head off so the blood can run out,” Nick explains while slicing the hapless chicken. “But don’t cut to the bone — it’ll dull the knife.” In quick succession, three chickens are cut, and the audience groans.
“Oh my God,” one butchery class participant says to me. “It’s all over your face.” The reluctant guest, Elke Hofmann, screams at the sight of me.
Covered in dirt, sweat and chicken blood, I’ve had enough. I grab my dog, get in my car and peel out, headed for home looking like a crazed ax murderer.
While camp was interesting and I met some cool people, if I ever do it again, there will have to be a hot shower involved.
Some campers agree. “I feel like we ‘did’ a farm so I can check that off my list,” says Hsu. “I may camp again, but I’d upgrade to glamping.”
Want to give Take It Offsite a try? Sign up for the next event in October at takeitoffsite.com.