Food as a Priority

Recently, I had a pretty nice article in our local newspaper, about our harvest of Thanksgiving turkeys, and some unique opportunities it offered to us and to the buyers of those turkeys.

The article was published on the papers webpage, and most of the comments posted about the article were extremely positive, and supportive of me and what I try to do for a living. There was, however, one naysayer who thought that the price that I charged for the turkeys was a little high, to put it lightly.

Let me say this right now: I don't give a damn about this guy, or his opinion of me. I live by Abe Lincoln's admonition about not being able to please all the people all the time, and that philosophy serves me well. In my mind, if I produce food that only one person in this whole wide world appreciates, then my life and my life's work has purpose. Period. I'm not running for Homecoming King, and popularity has never appeared on any list of my goals. Ever.

But as a result of this heckler, I've been thinking again about the stereotype that people who seek good food for themselves and their families are painted with: Elitists. Food snobs. Tree huggers. The Haves, not the Have-Nots.

I think the labels are bullshit.

I think that the desire and the willingness to seek out and pay for decent, honest, wholesome food boils down to nothing more than priorities.

People who buy from me, and other farmers like me, place a value in the role that food plays in their lives, beyond simply providing protein, fat, and carbohydrates in order to maintain their existence. They value the relationship and interaction that can be had with people who grow their food, or prepare it in a restaurant kitchen. They recognize the fact that, through their purchase and careful preparation of food, they can influence issues ranging from family cohesion to environmental protection, from foreign policy to public health. And they recognize that their influence can be positive.

Others don't hold food or it's producers in such high esteem. To them, every dollar spent on food is one that takes away from their entertainment budget, or their cigarette money, or the weekly bar tab, or the new car that they buy every two years, or the NFL channel, or whatever other IMPORTANT things exist in their lives, besides food. So therefore, food expense is something to be minimized, to be reduced to as close to zero as possible, and by default, food itself becomes a sterile, meaningless necessity, and those that are involved in food production are no longer professionals or artisans, but instead technicians or laborers.

I proudly consider myself a member of the first group, and I feel nothing but pity for those who are members of the second.

　
　

First Annual Turkey Day

Another post where I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

As a brief background, I started raising turkeys in July. They were sold on a pre-ordered basis, and as part of the deal, I offered to let people come out and take part in the harvest of their Thanksgiving turkey. Sort of a hard core twist to the "pick your own pumpkin" or "choose your own Christmas tree" idea.

In reality, I wanted to offer people the chance to see one more step that their food must take from farm to table, to completely close the circle. I wanted it to be an educational opportunity for adults and children alike, and I wanted to recreate some of the experiences I had as a child at similar community butchering days.

In the end, the butchering day was everything I wanted it to be, and more. We had LOTS of interest from the turkey buyers, and they came with a lot of really valid questions about my small scale butchering techniques, and how they compared with large scale slaughterhouses. Many of these folks rolled up their sleeves and stepped in to harvest and clean THEIR turkey, and that gave me satisfaction that I can't put into words.

Thanks to all who participated for making this a great experience. The wheels are already turning for next year...

A handsome turkey. Oh yeah, and the bird about to be butchered...

Turkeys, 2010 edition.

Making the selection.

My butchering facility. Notice the window with the scenic view, and ample spectator room...

Turkey, knife, right hand, blue sky. Just thought it was a cool picture.

A customer, hands-on in the process. Awesome.

Finished product, just chillin'.

Autumn Splendor Sausage

So, it's back to the future here at Rettland Farm.

No, I'm not talking about a visit by Ol' Doc or Marty McFly, or the arrival of Flux Capacitors by UPS or Stainless Steel Doloreans in the barnyard.

I'm talking about the latest addition to the Rettland Farm Original Sausage line, called "Autumn Splendor." This apparent new kid on the block is actually the grandaddy of them all. A little over a year ago, when I started exploring the idea of producing original sausages using our own meats as a way of showcasing the "taste" of Rettland Farm, I knew that the sausages had to be unique in concept and flavor. So, I started to experiment with different ingredients that were unique to the season at the time, which happened to be autumn.

The result of hours (and I mean hours) of messing around in the kitchen more than a year ago, before I ever produced a sausage for retail sale, yielded the basic recipe for the sausage we rolled out today, affectionately called "Autumn Splendor." But poor little Autumn Splendor had to wait a whole year, while the rest of the RF line hit the streets.

So why wait a whole year to release this sausage for public enjoyment? Well, for a couple of reasons, the first being seasonality. The ingredients are very much FALL ingredients. I wanted to use fresh fruit in season, not fruit from cold storage and ABSOLUTELY not fruit imported from some foreign country, essentially driving another nail in the coffin of American fruitgrowers. In Adams County, PA, fruit is harvested in the fall.

In addition, the sausage has a sort of FALL taste to it--it's just not something you'd want to eat watching fireworks on July 4th, or something you'd whip up for your sweetie on Valentine's Day. It's just...autumnal.

What are these magical FALL ingredients? Besides the ever present, ever reliable Rettland Farm Pork, I used some pretty awesome Adams County Bosc Pears, the kind that have rich mahogany colored skins, so fresh that a few of them still have a leaf or two attached to the stems. Next comes dried cranberries, which obviously didn't come from Adams County, but I happen to like them very much, and what they added to the sausage overcame any pangs of guilt I felt for not using super local ingredients.

After that, we've got a few spices thrown in that will remind you of apple pies, and the smells around grandma's house on Thanksgiving.

One other thing--this sausage is packaged and labelled as a "Breakfast" sausage. It's been stuffed into smaller diameter casings, making it possible to cook the sausage in less time. But, Autumn Splendor will work in lots of different scenarios, so don't be afraid to try. And as usual, if you come up with a really cool way to use the sausage, I'd love to hear about it in the comment section.

Autumn Splendor is available exclusively at the Carriage House Market, 117 Frederick St. Rear, Hanover, PA. Please make plans now to stop in and get some, because it will only be available for a limited time, for reasons you probably understand by now.

Happy Autumn!

I Need You to Pencil in a Date

Got your social calendar handy? Could you get it that way?

I need you to mark a date for me. October 5. 6:00 pm. Hanover PA. What, you may ask, is happening then and there?

It's the annual Sheppard Mansion Harvest Dinner. If you've never been, it is this fantastic gathering of Sheppard Mansion patrons and some of the local farmers that supply the restaurant with their wares that end up as amazing food on the Mansion tables. We all mix and mingle, we spend the evening with old friends (Hi, Beldens!) and make some great new ones.

Still haven't called, huh? Well, then read on, friend. Just for you, I've compiled the...

Top 5 Reasons you should attend the 2010 Harvest Dinner at Sheppard Mansion!:

Number 5. Vino: This meal is going to be 6 courses, and EVERY COURSE HAS A WINE PAIRING! Oh yeah, lots of wine. But the actual consumption isn't the whole story folks. Here's the best part: The wines will be presented by a professional sommelier, so when you stroll in to work the next day, you can be in your Hotshot Wine Connoisseur mode. You can say things like "Well Nancy, at the Harvest Dinner last night, we had the most delightful Napa Pinot Noir from Erba Mountainside. It carried nutty tones and a citrus finish, which was the result of a combination of the drought in Napa in 2004, and the sea breezes coming off the Pacific. It was a masterpiece." Even if Ol' Nancy has a clue about wines, you're still going to sound AWESOME!

Number 4. Food: By now, you know that I'm a Chef Andy Groupie (T Shirts pending), so you won't be surprised when I tell you that the food that comes out of that kitchen will blow your mind. As I mentioned, we're looking at 6 courses, which can be seen here, and your tastebuds will discover things they never knew existed. Combine a discussion of Chef Andy's thought processes with a little background on the raw materials that go into the dish from the producers, and you'll be looking at dinner with a whole new perspective.

3. The Carriage House Market: I've kept pretty quiet about this until now, but there is going to be a very cool sneak peak before the actual dinner kicks off. This will be the first look at the Carriage House Market, located right there on the Mansion grounds. This market is the answer to all of you who longingly, impatiently, fervently wait for 6 long months through the winter until the farmers markets open again in the spring. Guess what: NOT THIS YEAR! The Carriage House Market is going to be open 4 days a week to feature all of the products that you've come to know and love from local producers, plus a whole bunch of other Food related goodies.

Number 2. Haiku: I heard a rumor that Chef Andy will personally present each course in the form of Japanese poetry known as Haiku. But this is a small town, and you know how rumors are...

Finally, the #1 reason you should attend the Sheppard Mansion 2010 Harvest Dinner: The Wager.

Chef Andy and I have a friendly little wager going. You see, he bet me that I couldn't get 10 reservations for the Harvest Dinner. I emphatically assured him that I could. So here's the bet: If 10 people call the Sheppard Mansion and make a reservation for the 2010 Harvest Dinner, and mention that they are with "Team Ramsburg", Chef Andy buys me a fifth of Johnny Walker Black Scotch. If I don't reach the 10 res. mark, I buy Little a bottle of Woodford Reserve Bourbon. Now here's what's in it for you--that bottle of Scotch? I'm gonna share it with the rest of Team Ramsburg. If Little wins...well, I just can't make any guarantees...you know how he is with his Bourbon...

Sign up now folks! Don't make me start calling you out by name, which I WILL do! Get the Details Here! See you there!

Hog Heaven

I'll let the pictures do most of the talking this time. I started grazing a group of pigs in a standing cornfield this week, and the results have been amazing, more than I ever expected. This exceedingly simple method of feeding these incredibly adaptable creatures has proven to be very rewarding, for both farmer and beast.


Do the pigs from which your pork is derived live this well?

Cornfield, Pre-Pig Pillage

The pigs, just tearing into a new strip of corn. A little spooky, if you didn't know the pigs...

The pigs arrange themselves by pecking order--the boss pigs get their choice of feeding locations. This guy must be low man on the totem pole.

The pigs grab the stalk, and snap it off to get the ear...

...Because the ears are the first to go, cob and all.





Berkshire X Tamworth Crossbred pigs. The mud is their cooling mechanism--I purposely provide wallows for them to keep themselves cool in. An overheated pig is a dead pig.

The corn leaves are also highly desirable to the pigs, as long as they are still green.

'Nuther pig.

If you look very closely, you can see a very thin orange wire horizontally across the picture--this is electrified, and it is usually all that's necessary to keep the pigs where they are supposed to be. (Unless it's Labor Day, at about 8:00 pm, and you are a half hour away at a picnic--yep, except for then...)

Finally, this is what the corn looks like after the pigs have had access to it for 24 hours. Maybe not quite as clean as harvesting with a machine, but orders of magnitude more efficient.

So, hope you enjoyed a little glimpse into a day in the life of a pig at Rettland Farm. If you ever need a little therapy, come on out and just sit and watch them in person--you'd be amazed at how good you feel afterwards.

Dead Canaries

So, I've managed to keep quiet about the outbreak of salmonellosis associated with eggs. At least, until now.

No, I'm not going to beat the drum for small, independent egg producers like yours truly, though I know we produce a superior product in both taste and quality. I'm not going to jump up on the soapbox and howl about how something like this would never happen on a small farm, because it could. Is it likely? No. But possible? Yep. Anyone who claims otherwise is very seriously tempting fate.

No, I'm disgusted by other details that have come to light.

I am completely awestruck by the number of eggs potentially infected with Salmonella--500 MILLION. Can you imagine?? If you took those eggs and laid them end to end, they would stretch 15,782 MILES. Mind boggling, right? But here's the real kick in the pants:

All of those eggs came from two farms.

Which brings me to the point. Through consolidation of farms and food processors, the base of our food production system has become perilously narrow. As the numbers of farms, and more importantly farmers, has dwindled, so has the diversity and stability of the food supply. When a bacterial infection on TWO FARMS leads to thousands of sick people over a range of thousands of miles, it exposes ugly vulnerabilities in the system. We literally have too many eggs in one basket, pun intended.

We ended up here because we demanded cheap food. The titans of industry were happy to oblige, and found ways to put a dozen eggs in the grocery case for a buck or less. But those ways involved creating massive egg operations with millions of birds producing a mediocre product in both taste and quality; automated management systems; questionable animal husbandry practices; and low paid "technicians" to monitor it all.

And eggs are just the latest food on the Grocery List of Shame to have their safety called into question. Spinach, alfalfa sprouts, peanuts, tomatoes, peppers...all have had their own moments under the Cruel Spotlight of Infamy in recent memory. They all share a common denominator though--massive operations that either can't effectively monitor their product quality because of the sheer size of the operation, or won't monitor it because of the effect on profitability.

These food scares amount to a whole stack of dead canaries in the proverbial coal mine, folks. They should be serving as a warning of the dangers of a vertically integrated, centralized food production and distribution system controlled by corporate, profit-centered bohemoths. Sadly though, our poor dead canaries are too often forgotten, once the evening news moves on to other tragedies, and the allure of 89 cent a dozen eggs proves too hard to resist.

Thinkin' about Thanksgiving...In July?

Yes, I know it's a little early for most people to be thinking about Thanksgiving, but I am. The reason I'm thinking two whole seasons ahead comes down to this: The Turkey. The whole centerpiece of the Thanksgiving tradition, right? And I'm thinking that I'd like to raise a small flock of really special turkeys for the holiday this year.

Methods: These turkeys will be large white turkeys, raised on pasture with methods similar to those used for our pastured broilers. They will have access to plenty of pasture and the associated treats (bugs, etc), and will be supplemented with whole grains and roasted oilseeds.

Harvesting: I am thinking that I want to butcher these turkeys right here on the farm. And I really like the idea of having some of you experience that with me.

(First, some background: I grew up in the midst of an Amish community, and one Amish farm was literally my second home. I have a whole childhood of memories with those folks, but one that stands out is Butchering Day. This was the day that the whole Amish community (and us) came together to do the butchering before winter set in. This was usually beef and pigs, but I'd like to recreate those days with turkeys.)

So, towards that end, I propose we have a Turkey Butch'rin Day. It will only be open to those who are buying turkeys. I'd like Butch'rin Day to serve first and foremost as an educational opportunity for you, and your children if you have them and you think they would appreciate it. (I'm not out to cause nightmares or lifelong vegetarianism, though!) The primary focus that day will be the task of turning live turkeys into food, but I can think of a whole bunch of other "perks" that you, as a participant in Butch'rin Day, will enjoy, like those Amish neighbors did all those years ago--Food, Family, and Fellowship. All that in one afternoon--does that interest you?

Other Perks?: I'm thinking about a how-to class on turkey cookery, including what the heck to do with all those leftovers, to be done in early November or so. I'll work on fleshing that out. I've also been given some really great ideas by a loyal customer about some other perks, that will make for a great experience all around.

I'm also planning on raising a few extra turkeys, and donating them to local food banks for Thanksgiving. I feel very strongly that access to good food shouldn't limited by income level, and this will be one small way of helping with that problem. All of the turkeys will be donated in the names of Rettland Farm, plus the names of all of the members of the "Turkey Club".

Cost: I would estimate the cost of the dressed turkey at this point to be in the $70 range, give or take. The amount will vary depending on the number of turkeys I produce, the breed of turkeys, their final weights, etc. This is only a guess! Please understand that I'm new to the turkey game, so I need to research some of the costs associated with raising them.

In summary: So what does that $70 buy you? Lets review. It buys you a delicious, pastured, antibiotic free turkey that will be butchered absolutely stress free on the farm on which it was raised. It buys you members only access to an educational experience with friends and family on Butch'rin Day. It buys you some tips on how to cook your bird, and serve it to your family on Thanksgiving, and the days thereafter. And it buys you the satisfaction of sharing with others less fortunate, on a day when we realize how fortunate we all are.

So what do you think? Are you interested in being a member of the "Rettland Farm Turkey Club"? If so, shoot me a quick email (farmer@rettlandfarm.com) BY JULY 15 to become a part of what is shaping up to be a really cool event.