Crème de la Crème

 

Beef has always been the kernel of Angus Kobes’ otherwise hollow existence. Since long before he was born, the cow is what his family revolved around, the Sun to their Earth, their alpha and omega, 3, 6 and even 9.

​

His great-great-great-grandmother, Gertrude Messing, was raised in the Swiss Alps, the only daughter from a family of proud Braunvieh cattle farmers. Renowned in the area for producing the finest dairy, local monks used their milk to make Schwitzkak, a type of traditional semi-soft, washed-rind cheese, for which the region was famous.

​

One day, a travelling Spanish mountain climber, Juan Kobenez, stopped at the village on his way to the Matterhorn. He was to join a team who hoped to be the first to ascend the mountain. It is said that Juan Kobenez was as strong as an ox and as tall as two stacked on top of each other. His immaculate moustaches could cut through a block of manchego and his fingers were so fierce that whole chickens could be roasted upon them.

​

His tremendous genes found the perfect match in Gertrude Messing, a robust woman of the Alps with a figure sculpted by the rigours of teats’ pull and butter’s churn. A gifted yodeller, she was proclaimed the village alarm clock and paid a handsome wage to yodel the villagers from their beds each morning. Alas, her duties were eventually revoked when, in 1858, her mighty voice alone caused an avalanche, which killed two cows and damaged a wheelbarrow. This could be an exaggeration; beyond Schwtizkak, the Kobes have been known to be tellers of tales as tall as their menfolk.

In any case, Juan and Gertrude fell head over heels for one another. She persuaded him from attempting the perilous Matterhorn expedition. Instead, the pair travelled to Juan’s hometown in Galicia to be wed.

 

When the couple first met, Juan was not on good terms with his family. This came about after he announced that he would not be staying on the farm to continue the family trade. The Kobeno clan were also a long line of cattle farmers, though primarily for beef. As the oldest son, his renunciation of what was considered a born and honoured duty outraged his father Juan Kobeno senior. Yet Juan the younger was unmoved. He had no intention of staying on the farm, or in Galicia for that matter. He dreamed of adventure, of exploration, and his sights were set on Europe’s loftiest peaks. His mother begged him to stay, but Juan was obsessed, and neither his father’s disgrace nor his mother’s begging could dissuade him from following his dream. To his parents’ relief, Juan’s career as a mountaineer would be brief. He ascended the Balmhorn as part of the first party ever to summit the mountain. Between this feat and the Matterhorn—what was to be the crowning jewel of his burgeoning career—Juan met Gertrude and was promptly dissuaded from following his dream any further.

​

Juan’s parents were overjoyed and, naturally, they loved his sensible and hearty bride. His adventurous spirit could not be fully tamed, however. Although the couple was ready to settle down and adopt the family trade, they would not do so in Spain. The continent of Australia across the seas was the subject of much discussion among the people of Europe. Word was that land was plenty and opportunity boundless, in country alight with the glimmer of gold rush. Juan and Gertrude settled in the tablelands of New South Wales, starting a farm of their own, the very farm that Angus would call home when he was born four generations later; he was named after the first breed of cows Juan and Gertrude purchased together.

​

Originally, the couple farmed solely for meat, though it didn’t take long for Gertrude to see that some of her beloved Braunvieh were introduced to the farm. Kobe enterprises (the name being an Anglicisation of Kobenez) initially operated with two functions, beef and dairy production running side by side. Their lush pastures and peerless conditions meant that the produce was second to none. Beyond meat, their fecund fields bloomed with crops: a variety of vegetables, barley for beer and corn for cattle feed. Business boomed.

​

And the ageing bull of time

lumbered by.

 

In the process, the Kobe farm was in constant evolution. The family experimented with cross-breeding the Brown Swiss and Black Angus breeds, discovering the new hybrid boasted beef that was nothing short of divine. It was through this cross-breeding of dairy and beef cattle that their meat became famous for its bold flavour and rich marbling. So things remained for over a century, the Kobe farm running as smooth as the beef it produced. They endured hard years—fires, floods and the pressures of wartime. Yet nothing could shake the unyielding passion and excellence of the Kobes.

​

Gradually, the environment around them changed. Family farms began to disappear. In their place, colossal properties shot up like invasive weeds. These operations would make a Kobe’s skin crawl, if only they could see behind the walls. Pumped with hormones, drained of vitality, animals of every shape and taste were crammed into sequestered spaces as sterile and soulless as a rubber glove. Machines whizzed and whirred 24/7, so that a cow had almost no contact with humans before finding itself in one’s stomach.

​

Despite these unsettling developments, the Kobes were among the few traditional farmers left on the land. They were the last vestiges of a shrivelling community as their enterprises, which once ran Rolex-like, became increasingly beleaguered.

​

It was this world that Angus Kobe was born into. Even in his earliest memories, little Angus fantasised about doing something revolutionary with the family farm. The fiery spirit of Gertrude and Juan blazed within him, a flame that couldn’t be contained. He always felt destined for glory.