Boar Taint.

Right now my younger brother is sweating bullets. Why? Something you have probably never heard of before called boar taint.

Let me explain.

Boar taint is a really disgusting smell and taste that comes from male hogs. It is really nasty. Trust me, I know.

Generally boars are castrated during week 1-3 of their lives. The removal of the testes guarantees the removal of the possibility that they hog will have boar taint. This is done in all the gamuts of hog production. Factory farms do it, family farms do it. Nobody wants to take the chance.

Even Polyface Farms castrates. Yes, you have heard of them. They are the face of the "f you" movement challenging conventional agriculture and the government. They were featured in the book "The Omnivores Delimema" and the movie "Food Inc".

Factory farms HAVE to do it. Why? Because they way they raise their animals in confined spaces virtually ensures that the hog will have a taint. (Hogs raised in confined spaces are much much more likely to have taint).

Family farmers do it because they financially can't take the risk of the loss of income from a boar with taint. To them - it could mean the difference of making their farm payment or not. Furthermore, it has been done for years. It's "what you do."

Here's the problem with castration. Of course, nobody likes to talk about it. It isn't a fun topic. Animal rights activist are up in arms about it. We, as a family, are too. I absolutely refuse to castrate a pig. So does my mother. My brother will do it, but he would prefer not to.

The only person that is really comfortable with the job is my sister in law. She used to work at a hog confinement building. It was her job. She's good at it, if you will.

However, after years of research and my mother reading every book under the sun about outdoor pig production, things have changed at the Turpin Farm. Hogs are no longer casterated.

Raising your hogs outdoors on pasture significantly reduces the chances of boar taint. Check. We do that.

Butchering the hog under 300 lbs reduces the chances. Check. We do that.

Breeding plays a role. Lighter colored hogs have less of a chance of taint. Half check on this one. Some lighter colored hogs but we have been breeding in more Duroc genetics over the past few years. (The duroc gives the right marbling and flavor that consumers enjoy).

Tuesday Cole took a boar to the locker for a customer of ours in Kansas City. We won't know until we taste it if it has taint. (I am not there, thank goodness, as I don't want to take the chance of tasting taint. Poor Cole. hehe).

Even Barb from the locker called me thinking we had made a mistake. "You do know that this is a boar, right? Elvin said it has two seeds so it is a strong possibility that it will have taint."

Yep, I knew.

This is a big deal. Cole just quit his day job to be a full time farmer. Taking these sort of risks when he financially really can't afford to is stressful. If the boar has taint it is more than, "Oh we tried that and it didn't work." It is his livelihood.

For the sake of the hogs at the farm, Cole, and the customer that is expecting her hog to be delivered next week, I really hope it doesn't have taint.

Cheers and Happy Eats!

Lucinda

Citrus Royalty

The first thing I noticed about Mary Mitchell, owner of Eagles' Nest Organic Citrus grove, was the power of her commanding presence.

As Rodney Scaman (one of the owners of Goodness Greenness Sustainable Foods who had flown in especially to facilitate my introduction) and I walked into the restaurant, I had no doubt as to whom we were meeting. Her posture was nearly perfect but not so stiff as to be unapproachable. Seated at the table, she was flanked on either side by men who worked with/for her and their body language told me immediately that she was not one whose wrong side they or anyone else would ever want to be on.

She hails from Paducah, Kentucky, having been a city girl before her husband bought the grove about 30 years ago and as she says, "didn't have a damn bit of sense about how to run it which means I had to figure it out because all our money was tied up in it." He passed a way a few years ago but "run it" she has.

Over lunch I was mesmerized as she told me her story and the 30-year journey she has had in the organic industry. You can't help but yield the floor to this woman as words sounds like honey when spoken with her southern accent. It is because of Mary that organic citrus in the state of Florida is where it is today. In the 80's she fought in court to overrule fumigation laws that made shipping organic citrus across Florida state lines illegal. She stood her ground when state inspectors were sent to shut her operation down because they felt organic was a threat to other citrus growers whose money lined their pockets. John Mackey, the CEO of Whole Foods, started in the industry by selling out of a garage; Mary was one of his initial growers. Her roots in the industry run deep and she is on a first name basis with all the important power players.

She is a woman in a man's world but this isn't something that bothers her. She holds her own and holds it well. I pity the man who attempts to speak to her with sexual inneuendos as she will put them in their place and shame them without ever raising her voice or looking away. She once told a buyer from a large grocery chain, "I am flying up next week to take you to supper because I need to find at least one thing I like about you or you won't be buying from me anymore." I asssure you it wasn't an empty threat considering she has been known to stop selling to companies even as large as Whole Foods or Albert's because their buyers didn't respect her. She doesn't care how big they are or how much money she stands to lose, her dignity is not for sale. She lives alone and is often targeted by thieves and low-lifes having even been kidnapped at gun point, but she has a solution for this - her Smith & Wesson or shot gun which she not only knows how to use but has a track record of not being afraid to.

After lunch we headed to the grove and I learned that they paint the trunks of new trees with organic milk to keep them from getting sun burned. I ate a fresh Honey Bell off the tree and was convinced I had ended up in orange heaven as it was so full of juice and by far one of the sweetest oranges I have ever tasted. Traditionally, citrus is picked green and gassed to be made orange, but not Mary's. They are tree ripened and not picked until naturally orange. She tests her citrus on a regular basis for acid and bricks levels using some sort of complicated math formula with the two numbers to find out the exact perfect time to pick and ship the fruit. She has seasonal help that works in the packaging house and picking but does all the tree maintance herself such as pruning and picking tree moss by hand.

Back at her house she offered us some of her homemade orange cake and oh, my soul was it wonderful! It was there, in her modest home, that I got to see the other side of Mary's personality. She made sure my coffee cup was filled to the brim and that I felt welcome. She had a conversation with Rodney about how to best help me get with other growers in the state, offered sensible advice about how sticking to your convictions is the key to success, and gave words of encouragement about my new business.

As the day came to an end Rodney and I strapped our precious cargo into Fiona's car seat and headed back south.

I am a firm believer in making the family farm the story behind our food and Mary is a perfect example of what story I wish my food to tell.

Cheers and Happy Eats!

Lucinda

We are the family farm. Stand with us.

We don't want government subsidies, but we do want an even playing field on which to compete, so please don't allow them to be given to corporate giants.

On average, if you added up our working hours, we make less than minimum wage, so please don't haggle us on price.

We are walking wikipedias on the topics of our trade, so please don't think us intellectually inferior.

If we cease to exist then you would be dependent on companies that are "too big to fail" for your food supply, and we all know that nothing is ever to big to fail so please oppose legislation that makes it harder for us to do what we do.

Who are we?

We are the family farm, and as such we ask you to stand with us.

Stand with us as we fight to keep our land out of the hands of those who attempt to swindle us into less diversification in the name of efficiency, by purchasing products from farms produced in a bio-dynamic way.

Stand with us so we can have the freedom to plant non GMO crops and save our seeds without fear of retaliation from companies like Monsanto, by choosing organic and opposing laws that allow companies to patent life and then sue us in the name of copyright infringement.

Stand with us against those that would have us raise animals in concentration camps for the sake of a dollar, by refusing to buy meat from feedlots or confinement buildings.

You are our customers, our neighbors, our countrymen, and above all else you are our fellow humans. All of us, together, can create a foundation that the next generation is proud to stand on. Together we can be keep our food system pure, and together we can leave this land better than we found it.

Cheers and Happy Eats!

Lucinda

"If they don't want to get on the bus, they don't have too."

If I were forced to shop at a conventional grocery store, I would be a vegan.

In case you are currently tearing into a fecal matter laced, cancer laden, and inhumane piece of mystery meat from Walmart right now- I will spare you the gory details, but when you finish you can check out the following link for more information on why http://www.mercyforanimals.org/factory_farming.asp

If, after you have read the above link, you are wanting to know how I can be a self described, animal rights activist carnivore, here goes. (Beware- the sad realities of how we get our meat even in a humane way can still leave you a little shaken).

My mother raises hogs, they are raised on pasture and fed corn or milo depending on her crop rotation (she plants her own row crops to feed them). They are left on their mother until they are ready to be moved to the “fat hog” pen. They are never given any types of hormones, so they grow at varying rates. Thus, when it comes time for slaughter you have to sort out the ones of the right size. This is done by opening and closing certain gates to create a path to the hog cart, and then standing in strategic places so that the hogs see the opening you want them to go through. There is no stress for gatherer or hog in this method. In fact, my mother has the saying that “If they don’t want to get on the bus, they don’t have too.” If the hog of the right size doesn’t want to go- it doesn’t. At first, this didn’t make since to me. Wouldn’t she end up with a pen full of really really big hogs that never wanted to go? The answer is no, somehow it works out and the ones that didn’t go this time go the next time.

The next step is that the hog cart, hooked onto the tractor, is driven 1 mile to the local locker. Since the animals haven’t been stressed for a difficult loading or a long journey, they are free of stress hormones that some vegetarians will swear makes people a little edgy after eating a big hunk of meat.

The locker is owned by a local family, Elvin is responsible for the killing and cutting up of the animals, and Barb does the scheduling. They are always busy and normally you have to get on the schedule a few months in advance. They are always open for inspection, will answer any question you have, and will even show you the meat locker if you want. This is a definite change from the cloud of secrecy large processing plants hide behind!

One would wonder, why, if they are always busy and do such a great job, they wouldn’t expand. The answer is quite simple (I asked them the same question), because they only process a few animals a day they don’t ever become numb to the fact that they are actually killing another creature. Since they aren’t numb, they are able to kill the animal swiftly & efficiently - they don’t them to suffer anymore than the rest of us do. Also, because they only kill a few per day they are not under the stress that a traditional meat packing worker is under to keep the assembly line moving quickly. Therefore, they are able to make sure each animal is “tended to” properly before moving to the next one.

All in all, the eating of meat is a personal choice, but if one is to eat meat, it should be the norm that it has been raised by people who take the care of their animals seriously, and processed in a way that honors that animal’s sacrifice.

No rest for the weary in Farm Town.

When I gave up my “busy” lifestyle in the outskirts of Kansas City to live in a town of 600 hundred and be a full time farmer, I had visions of long expanses of time that I would be able to read, play and relax. In fact, I was slightly concerned about boredom. (All farmers giggle now)

To give a taste of farm life, I am going to give you a rundown of the last 24 hours of my life.
A week ago I started to get a slight cold brought on by ragweed, not enough rest, and probably a host of other variables. By yesterday when I finally went to the doctor it had become full blown pneumonia, requiring a steroid shot and antibiotics (I declined the antibiotics out of stupidity or the very real fear that I may someday become immune to them if I take them to often – I am not sure which).
At any rate, this morning I was up at the crack of dawn to milk my cow. After I milked her, I brought the milk back to the house, strained it, and put it in the refrigerator. I left a note for the hubby on what to feed Fiona for breakfast and was off to pick corn. One might wonder why my husband was sleeping in, while I was up and at it with pneumonia, but for those of you that know him you will understand that milking a cow is not his forte. Furthermore, Fiona was starting to feel under the weather and does much better with co-sleeping than she does in her own bed, so I wanted to make sure she got plenty of rest.

I didn’t buy my own land until later in the summer so I planted 5 acres of sweet corn at my sister’s house 5 miles up the road from us. Since I had an order of over 300 ears of corn to fill for FreshConnectKC, I had to get to picking. What I was not prepared for was the amount of dew I was going to encounter, and therefore became soaked to the bone by the end of my little corn adventure.
I borrowed some dry clothes from my sister and headed to grandma’s house to pick pears, once again for FreshConnect, 100lbs of pears and a few lbs of tomatoes later I was ready for the next part of my morning.

I headed to my mother’s house to shuck my corn. I did this for a few reasons-
1. The hogs love the husks so there was no sense in chancing that a family without a compost pile would end up with them.
2. I am proud of the corn I raised, and wanted to make sure that I checked every ear of corn for quality.
3. We didn’t use any chemicals on the corn so a few worms had their fun with the tops of them. I don’t mind it, because I prefer to share a bit rather than poison the poor creatures. However, I understand that most people don’t want a creepy crawly on the top of their ear. So, better me to clean them up than send them to an unforgiving customer.

After the corn was shucked, cleaned, and packed it was time to get Scott (my dear husband) on his way to Kansas City to deliver the produce and head to work.
I headed back to the house, had a quick bite to eat, did a bit of paperwork and put Fiona down for a nap. After she got up we headed to mom’s farm to check the daily family report, have supper and then off to our own farm to check on our cows.

Thankfully, we have an adopted bottle calf so I only milk once a day giving the calf fee access the rest of the time.
Although we do use rain barrels, we don’t yet have a pond so we are currently hauling water from my brother’s house to the cows. The process is quite an art form as the water barrels are heavy, and you have to tip them over into the water trough. Since it is my brother’s 21st birthday I decided to take the nightshift solo. I tipped one over, and was ready to start on the second one, when it fell out of the truck. I got out to try and lift it (not sure why I thought I would be strong enough to do this), and the new mama cow (just had her baby today) decided to let me know she wasn’t that into me tonight.
Unable to pick the barrel up and not wanting to test my running ability on bad lungs against a new mama cow, I opted to head back to Cole’s and fill up an additional barrel of water to bring back. I did, and when I got back, it was dark, and I am deathly afraid of the dark. So, I climbed from the cab of the truck into the bed, and tipped the barrel over. Finally, the chores were done!

I headed back home, got Fiona into the bath, myself into the shower, and am finally ready to get some long overdue rest!
What I am finally starting to realize is that being a farmer is like being a parent. It doesn’t matter how tired/sick you are, you can’t call in!