Lady Carole Bamford has created an organic empire from Daylesford, her farm in the Cotswolds. I’d heard about it from my cousin Paula, who grew even more enthusiastic about going organic for her farm (next to ours in Virginia), after a visit to Daylesford. So eager for some inspiration, I headed to Daylesford on the second day of my trip to the Cotswolds.

I love how Lady Bamford, wife of multibillionaire Anthony Bamford, founder of the construction firm JCB, has embraced farming as the route to a healthy, prosperous life. The socialite travels the world by helicopter and jet. She’s officially a baronness, honored by the queen for her charity work–and yet she wants to be known as a farmer, according to published reports. She turned her family farm into a thriving organic enterprise 40 years ago. Now at age 76, she operates three popular upscale cafes in London; two well-reviewed pub-restaurants; a wellness spa; winery in southern France; distillery; clothing line; home goods; charities in India–and don’t forget the actual farm.

All organic and self-sustaining.

The real center of her enterprise is here at Daylesford which started as an organic farm shop in 2002. Forget the old images of battered, shrunken organic fruit; everything sold at Daylesford is organic, pricey, and chic, as beautifully produced as a perfect pear.

First impression: sleek and expensive

I am fascinated by her enterprise and how she has so successfully capitalized on organic farming.

My first impression is not of a farm, but a sleek glass and wood structure, lined out front with topiaries and a big parking lot full of cars from the city.

Behind the topiaries, perfect organic fruits and vegetables are displayed in bins, as in the traditional farmers market. But that’s where the homespun comparison stops and yields to Bamford’s style and business sense that’s like an English Martha Stewart.

In the Home Goods department, an elegant lady was hanging felt Easter eggs on branches artfully arranged above the $200 tablecloths . “All from the property here,” she offered., referring to the branches. The English decorate these Easter trees with eggs, she added. The eggs are hand embroidered with carrots and bunnies, sustainably, in Nepal.

In Housewares, where they sell luscious smelling products like rosemary loo (toilet) cleaner, I met a couple from London. The woman was clutching purchases that included a bag full of organic, disposable aluminum foil, eco-rubber gloves and a tin of biscuits for her mother. Despite the high prices, she is happy to shop organic because it is pesticide free and not contributing to climate change, she says. “But I have to ask, why is it good food only for the people who have the money?”

Her partner was a bit more skeptical. “I just came to see what all the fuss is about.” He paused. “Totally aspirational. . .What is this all about? I don’t know. They have a car park full of cars.”

I’ve noted the English are much more conscious of climate change than Americans.

Tour of cheese, wine, everything organic

I had hoped to get a tour of the farm, but it is off limits to visitors. I also would have loved to meet “Lady B” as she is called by staff; she often comes to check on things, the manager, Risvon Fernandes, said, in front of the three restaurants featuring Daylesford produce. Fernandes tried to put it all in perspective for me: “This is a dream of Lad Bamford. She puts her stamp on everything,and it is all organic.”

We ambled through the beautifully displayed housewares to a nook with 14 different kinds of cheese made at Daylesford; the smell of moldering cheese almost knocked me out. That was next to a cubicle featuring organic wine made by hand at the Chateau Leoube, famed for its organic Rose. The winery was transformed into organic by the Bamfords.

Then there was the cookery school with multiple state of the art stoves and gear. The wellness spa is across the way. I checked out the airy stone and wood boutique which displays Bamford’s simple classic styles. She imports some fabric from Jaipur, a town in India where she has organized and supported Indian crafts such as indigo dying. The linen comes from various farms in England. I liked the plain white sweater but at $540, I opted to go on a walk to indulge in the good, local food at the local pub, the Wild Rabbit (also owned by Bamford).

The high-end products contrast with the dirty work of farming. Yet her philosophy about organic farming runs deep, from the roots of her surrounding 1500-acre estate to the sheets on the beds of her luxurious cottages that she rents out to tourists in search of the green countryside. Everything, her website states, is “designed to be mindful of its footprint and create an ethical, environmental and sustainable way, inspiring others to live consciously and well.”

Opposition to pesticides

According to an interview in the London Financial Times, which paid tribute to her business acumen, Bamford became an advocate for organic foods when she was a young mother outside with her baby. She noted the wilting roses in the garden. The wilted condition was traced to pesticides sprayed by nearby farms. “Better to pay the real price for food than later on in the doctor’s office,” noted Bamford, in response to the criticism of the high price of her products.

As self-sustaining as it claims to be, I found it hard to get public transportation out there from Broadway and had to hire a driver. Then I could not find a way to get to The Wild Rabbit, the Michelin recommended pub in nearby Kingham.

A Walk to the Wild Rabbit pub

With map in hand, I headed across the parking lot, down the road to a path, that was as pristine as the Cotswold Way, through beautifully kept fields. Every field in this area appears groomed by landscapers, groomed naturally, by the sheep and cows.

On the 3-mile walk, I caught glimpses of the farm operations, neat and without any evidence of pesticides but I can’t really tell. The terrain was really muddy and flat, great for splashing through puddles at a relaxed pace, all by myself. Breathing in the beauty of the landscape.

At the Wild Rabbit, with carved wooden rabbits placed as accents to the rustic decor, I ate lunch–a delicious bright green leek, potato soup, dense with the earthy leek flavor, and whole grain sour dough bread, cheese and butter, (made on the farm) accompanied by a half pint of Cheltenham gold beer.

The host told me they are working to get 3-stars for their ambitious menu. I missed a chance to try the tasting menu, set for later, Wednesday through Saturday, where they showcase delectable creations reflecting the day’s produce. He described a rabbit dish, with rabbit bacon, wrapped around lobster. Also intriguing is a salad of nasturtium root and parsnip crisps or braised pigs head, swede, mead and sage. You can also rent a cottage or rooms with rustic chic and luxurious amenities around the corner from the pub.

I’m content with the soup, and the cozy atmosphere of the pub, with its airy, light feel and leather chairs set in front of a fire. I chatted with a well-heeled guest who came in to the pub to meet a friend. Lady B has bought more properties near The Fox, a former 18th century inn also owned by Bamford, in a neighboring village, she said.

“I wonder if she will keep the post office,” she mused.

Are the townspeople upset she is buying up everything? I asked.

Not really, because like many small villages struggling to survive in the depressed English economy, the town was in need of a boost, she said.

Reflections

Lady B has the exquisite taste and the deep pockets that keep the enterprises going–fueled by a growing appetite for healthy food and land, amid concern for climate change. Her farm is one of the most successful organic farms in England, according to the Financial Times. I admire how she has built this market, glamorizing farming and the move to organic in a way that brings more profits for local farmers and better pesticide-free food for anyone willing to pay. She proves how successful organic can be.

Could such a model work in the States using farms as hubs for markets?