Walking with a Shepherd

Winding through sleepy ancient villages of the Portuguese countryside, morning light ignites the unkept, dew laced vegetation along the narrow lane. If I did not know any better, I would presume we were driving back to a simpler time. GPS guides us to an unsuspecting portion of stone wall to park next to at a slightly wider spot in the street. We have arrived at our Portugal Farm Experience. A spirited young woman greets us in English at the rose bush framed gate and ushers us to her car. “The shepherd is just a bit down the road,” she explains. We spot the great brown guard dogs first and pull off the dirt road, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It is deep into spring, but a cold front plus altitude at the foothills of the mountains is quite crisp with a nippy breeze. A warm, joyful man calls out to us in Portuguese. I have no idea what he is saying, but you can hear his smile long before you can see it. He is far younger and more handsome than what I expected of a sheep herder. His strong, leathery, yet gentle, hands are that of a laboring man that holds great care in his work. Our hostess provides translation for our passionate conversation about his work, which clearly runs through his veins. His family makes up the nearby community of about 60, where all the men are shepherds and have been for generations. Coming from the United States and having seen the evolution of farming, my immediate question, after “Where do you outsource wives?” is “Why?” “Why do these generations continue to wander through countryside with a bunch of sheep in all weather conditions?” Obviously, there is a more delicate way to find the answer than to ask brashly, so I keep that to myself and ask more questions about the type of sheep and what their milk is used for. As it turns out, this collection of shepherds is an incredibly important piece of Portuguese culinary culture. There is a high value cheese that comes only from this mountain called Serra da Estrela and is a Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) in the European Union and UK. There are a couple variations of the product starting with a fresh, or soft cheese and progressing toward aged cheese wheels, which bring the big bucks at fancy restaurants and grocery stores. Elements that make this cheese so distinctive are the high fat content found in milk from the Bordaleira sheep and their diet primarily comprised of aromatic brush and wild herbs.  Most people picture fields of green grass sprinkled with white fluffballs, but these brown, curly horned sheep are selected for their high-quality milk and ability to endure the mountain climate and terrain rather than wool quality.

The landscape is hardy with scotch broom bushes, wild lavender, varieties of sage, and a bit of coarse grass scattered in between. After their morning milking, he leads them out to forage, keeping them moving as to not overgraze any one area. The land is leased and there are no real fences away from the barn, except part of an old stone wall here and there marking remnants of old property lines. Many of the sheep wear thick leather collars with bells that make a distinct clanging, helping to locate the herd as they blend in with the scenery. This year has been particularly harsh with little rain for vegetation. It has forced the shepherd to sell a large percentage of his herd, meaning far less milk production and income for his family. Predators generally consist of foxes, coyotes, stray dogs and now even wolves that have been moving down the mountain in search of food. The gentle giants that guard them resemble small bears, much like the Great Pyrenees we see in the U.S. but with a brown coat and are simply referred to as Portuguese Mountain Dogs. They may take their job seriously, but they know a dog person when they smell one and lean in for a little love as I squat down for photographs. An extra layer of pride for his hard-working dogs beams across the shepherd’s face as he announces that the pair are due to have puppies in a month or so.

As we continue to wander through the brush with the sheep, it is fascinating watching him direct the herd with a series of whistles and calls. We pass by a pile of rubble and remains of an old stone building. He explains that it used to be a home and was wiped out by the wildfires a couple years prior. My curiosity cannot resist peeking inside the haunting little structure. The walls and cold floor resemble a museum display and tell a story of hardship and survival. How far back in history did we go?

The farther on the grazing route we get, the deeper the stories of the shepherds go. “Who makes the cheese while the shepherds are busy tending to their flock?” I ask. He describes an interesting business model controlled by the nearby cheese factory. Each shepherd must produce a minimum yield of milk for the cheese factory to retrieve it a couple times per week from a refrigerated holding tank in the barn. They pay by the liter, but those prices have barely been adjusted for inflation in decades. During Covid shutdowns, the factory claimed that cheese purchasing had slowed, so they dropped the price below $1/liter. Statistics have shown that cheese consumption had in fact increased with more people dining at home. I am outraged, but, unfortunately, not surprised to hear this. The shepherds are modest men of service to the animals they govern and know no other lifestyle. Nor do they have other options for the sale of their milk. The cheese factory can pay what they wish to keep their own pocketbooks increasingly padded. I ask if the shepherds have any sort of organization that could wrangle some leverage to improve their rate. It is clear they have not even considered fighting for their worth.  Further insult is the government “incentive program” that “offsets” the cost of tending to the sheep and provides a laughable amount of funding annually. The lump sum is not even enough to cover vet bills for the flock. The government knows that newer generations have been moving away from agricultural professions, which poses a threat of losing a significant historic piece of their culture. They know this, but do not back their concerned words with action.

Approaching summer, the sheep are near done with their milking cycle. He will give them a few months off to dry up (stop producing milk) so that they can focus their energy on growing next season’s babies. With no milk, this means no income. I ask how he offsets cashflow for those few months. He sheers other herds for extra money in the spring, but he is about done with that for the season. I ask about selling the wool. He laughs and shows us a lean-to filled to the ceiling with trash bags packed with wool. The current rate for wool is $.10/ton. He says he would rather keep it than give it away for that.

Appalled at how delicately his fate balances with the increasing threat of natural disasters and extreme weather, my mind runs through a series of actions including how to help change policy of this foreign country or influence the managers of this greedy cheese factory. I feel helpless in the matter, but then I ask our hostess how our paid experience affects him. A glimmer washes over her as she explains that the partnership between the farm she works for and the shepherd is new and that he receives half of each farm experience. She further explains the impact on him, recalling the first time he received his cut and the tears that filled his eyes. The short answer is, immensely. On a hard year like this one, it is an answered prayer. The long answer is that by driving into the countryside to follow our own curiosity about the life of a shepherd in the mountains of Portugal, we are able to help sustain a cultural culinary gem for the world to taste. It sounds far-fetched, but it is quite literal and applies to small farmers in all parts of the world. Farmers are the doers with the ultimate ripple effect. By consciously supporting them, we support everything they work for, thus enabling their ripple to resonate.

Our visit with the shepherd is nearing an end as we approach the simple, cozy barn his flock calls home. A couple exceptionally soft, black lambs are penned up in preparation for their sale tomorrow. As we walk behind the structure, he opens an unsuspecting door. Inside is a basic white refrigerator and the stainless steel refrigerated holding tank with fresh milk. After a bit of hand sanitizer, he hands me a 2oz paper cup to dip into the tank and sample his pride and joy. I am a kid on Christmas, and my mouth is already watering at the beautiful sight inside the tank. It is incredibly creamy and delicious with a bit of sweetness to it. What a culinary dream. He impatiently asks “Bon?” meaning “Is it good?” and flushes bright red at my dramatic excitement. He then opens the fridge and pulls out a wheel of cheese. The hostess says “this is not part of the tour,” but he pulls out a knife and begins slicing away, eager to share. This is an aged cheese made from his milk along with the milk of other shepherds in his family. Now, a cured pig leg appears, and he begins shaving slivers of that too. Our hostess objects, concerned we will be too full for her part of the experience, but he smiles and opens a bottle of fizzy white wine to accompany the picnic. He explains that “he may not have money, but he always has food. Usually he eats alone, but today he has friends.” We cheers and he insists we continue to eat, replenishing the meat and cheese along with strips of a quince paste he makes and freezes. He shows us the best way to eat it, stacked on a slice of cheese. His joy in sharing is overwhelming and fills the air. It is pure magic. We wrap it up after much laughter, and he takes us for one final gem. Surprise twin lambs were born yesterday out of the ewe he bought earlier this week. These are a different breed with bright, shiny white wool and pink noses. They are absolute perfection. He beams as he hands me one to hold. I show him pictures of my baby goats and llamas back home, and it all makes sense. “You are the same as me,” he exclaims in Portuguese. I smile, “I guess so.”

Snow Globe - NYE in NYC

As our plane approaches the Big Apple through the night sky, I scan the cityscape full of lights in anticipation of magic that awaits. What a funny concept to assume a location hosts a greater state of mind than the streets I call home. And yet, the assumption holds truth. We have been spoon-fed the idea that New York is the “City of Dreams”, and needing to lean into hope, we believe it. With a majority agreeance in the belief system, we in turn give each other permission to dream and float and dance through the streets, spontaneously joining strangers in song. What a beautiful display of the power of the mind, creating an arena for wonder from thin air.

We wander the streets, following the brilliant glow of holiday cheer captured and displayed by design excellence. Swarms of people stop and stare in awe. As I observe the jaw-dropped onlookers, I cannot help but wonder which element draws them in most. Is it the colorful lights contrasting the cold, winter night? Is it the dramatic music accompaniment? Is the size of the display or complexity? Or is it simply the general shared excitement of the herd as a result of impressive marketing over the years? Do they travel far and wide to seek this out only to be underwhelmed or is it more than they could have imagined? I think about the power of the arts to gather people like this, with a magnetism so strong that it requires streets to be closed off to accommodate the crowds. Joy will not yield to fear in forms of moving vehicles when you are joined by hundreds or even thousands in the pursuit. Hope and joy are a potent combination, and when struck by wonder, resonate as a tidal wave. If a Christmas display can change the flow of Manhattan traffic, imagine the potential impact of more young artists armed to move masses. Imagine art being unleashed in the name of liberation, delivering hearts held hostage by broken systems.  I would imagine this gravity of potential impact influences the decisions for the arts’ programs to be bled.

Times Square on New Year’s Eve, when broken down, consists of a few simple elements. Music, a pretty lit up ball, and colorful confetti, all of which are artistic ingredients held within a life size snow globe. Yet the world watches collectively on television and pilgrims travel great lengths to participate year after year without asking why it is such a desirable bucket list occasion. So, what is the draw? The draw is the feeling. It is electric with excitement of organized chaos. Anticipation of a synchronized ceremony in the closing of one chapter and the opening of the next. It is the metaphorical clean slate and opportunity to do and live better. It is the hope for prosperity and fulfillment. It is the unified permission to start over with a colorful line drawn in the sand. It is harmony blanketing the international masses as they share a joyous occasion. We have been taught that war is more natural than peace, but this experience shows me otherwise.

‘A Seed is But a Gift’ Cherokee Lakes Farm

A seed is but a gift left by Mother Earth for us to find and flourish. It is small but mighty, filled with everything needed to spark life. It is magic in its purest form. As legend says, it possesses the power to read our nutritional needs simply from the contents of our spit and adapt for our health and longevity.

Farmers are the guardians of those gifts, and some hear that “calling” louder than others. Mariah Mercer is one of those farmers whose bones resonate with the responsibility of “the call”. Growing up in Azle, TX, Mariah fell in love with laboring in the great outdoors next to her father. A Mexican American immigrant, he was a daily example of the power and potential of the “American Dream”, instilling strong work ethic and determination amongst the shining qualities of his daughter. After high school, she enrolled at Tarleton State University studying Environmental Engineering, where she could pursue her love as a professional steward of nature.  Early in her college career, she took a job working for a non-profit farm in Granbury, TX. It was then that she heard “the call” and shifted her degree to Horticulture with the intent of professional farming after graduating with an impressive 4.0. In 2019, Mariah returned to the land in Granbury she had farmed as an employee and bought it with her husband, Paydon.  This time, she was on a mission, and that mission was named “Cherokee Lakes Farm”.

The current ratio of humans in the U.S. that farm versus the humans that do not know anything about farming, combined with the power of marketing buzz words, has created a wide disconnect between people and food. It is, by design, a broken system perpetually dependent on government funding, grants, and chemicals. Fortunately, there is hope and there are solutions in the form of rare gems such as Mariah that are standing their ground for what is right instead of riches.

In 2019, Mariah set out to prove that with a small parcel of land, she could develop a healthy, holistic farm model growing organic produce for her community for profit. In 2022, with the support of the Granbury area community, she can proudly say that she has accomplished exactly that. Her mindset is unique to our area but not alone. There are micro farms popping up across the world with similar approaches of layering “best practices” from ancient cultures around the world paired with modern tools that create vibrant ecosystems. Ask any of these passionate farmers where it begins, and they will all light up and respond, “with the soil”. Mariah designs what she calls “farm plots” which are 40’ x 100’ rectangles consisting of 10 rows containing 3 families of plants each. When developing a new farm plot, she must start by killing any vegetation such as weeds or Bermuda grass first. Usually, you would picture a tractor or horse pulling a plow, churning up the soil, and perhaps followed by a weed killing spray. Instead, Mariah uses a method called “no till” farming, meaning the soil is not disturbed. One of the strongest arguments for this method is that it preserves the microbiome (community of microorganisms) in the soil that help maintain moisture and feed the plants. To naturally kill the unwanted grass and weeds, she covers the plot with a black tarp that essentially uses summer heat and sunlight to cook the plants beyond recovery. A combination of dead plant material and natural microorganism stimulants concocted by herself gives the microbiome a boost in preparation for seeds to sow. The initial preparation of the soil for a new farm plot takes an average of four months, and only improves with time. The overall method of Mariah’s style of farming is called “biological regenerative farming” with the use of permaculture ideologies such as cover cropping, layering wide variety of organic material, and Korean Natural Farming, with seed varietal focus being on heirloom, open pollinated, and historic cultural bloodlines of the consumers.

Diversity is key. Monocrop farming is the way of large commercial farms, whether it be plants or animals. Small, organic, healthy farms are based on symbiotic relationships. There is a reason that people joke about chickens and goats being the “gate-way drugs” into farming. You cannot just have one, and you always end up adding another species, or ten. The same goes for plants. Notice the diversity within each row in the photos. Just like relationships amongst people, there is give and take between different categories of plants, such as offering shade, releasing nitrogen in the soil or even pest deterrents. They each play their role.

A profound survival skill in organic farming that Mariah possesses is recognizing the difference between a symptom and the root of a problem within the environment and then resolving it accordingly.  A prime example of this are bugs. Bugs attack plants, not because they are little devils, but because they are fulfilling their duty in the ecosystem. When a plant is stressed, it sends out signals that page the bugs for a clean-up on aisle 6. Most people see this and respond instinctually by killing the bugs in a panic. Mariah looks deeper as to why the plant is stressed in the first place and treats that by amping up the nutrition of the microorganisms in the soil which in turn feed the plants. This philosophy is the same as humans taking vitamins to support their immune system. Over time, you recognize the pattern, such as flu season being more common in winter or kids getting strep throat when they return to school after summer break. With a pattern, you can begin to anticipate issues and be more proactive. This is how Mariah stays ahead of disease or pests without using toxic chemicals. Each year the microbiome or “immune system” becomes stronger, as she learns and layers more positive reinforcement practices into the farm.

This is only a snapshot of the wealth of knowledge 28-year-old Mariah Mercer holds, and the labor she, her husband, and father have poured into their 9 farm plots. It is also merely the beginning for them, as they have displayed abundance in a short three years utilizing less than 1 of 7 acres without tractors or machinery. They have big plans for the next steps and need continued support from chefs and vegetable lovers in the community to catapult them to the next level. You can call/text her directly at 817.333.7929 to pick up from the farm, find them at Acton and Guerin Farmers Markets, or if you are not the greatest cook, go see Chef Rose Pebbles at Oz, Gary at Christina’s American Table and Gary’s Kitchen, Megan at Anise, Austin & Shannon at Oma Leen’s or Emily Harris at Baked. They are some of the strongest supporters of local farmers and love to talk to guests about the products on their menus. Another way you can support our farmers is to eliminate the guessing game and have conversations with them about products you would like to purchase locally. Establishing a relationship and communicating directly with them is the fastest route to progress. Remember, farmers are those that have answered “the call” as guardians of gifts left for us. Without them, we would be naked, thirsty, and hungry.                                                                               Cherokee Lakes Farm

‘Time’ with Todd Reed

Like a jagged boulder fallen from mountainside to riverbed, Reed’s edgy expression of elements has weathered and refined into a grounded softness over 35 years of creating fine jewelry.  Within the notion of time, he has also found metamorphosis.  Unwinding a living brand seems counter-intuitive at first glance.  View it through the looking glass, and you will discover a design of pure genius.  In summary, Todd Reed un-became anything serving less than his soul. 

Reed’s younger forging years were spent reflecting the jagged, defiant landscape surrounding him in Colorado.  His construal of fine jewelry, using unpolished metals and raw, colored diamonds earned him a signature style that stands out on any runway.  A testament of his youthful outlook, his confrontational collections were symbolic of “crumbles and decay with many rough edges, squares and points.”  Progressive interpretation of standardized beauty presented the cliffside path of a pioneer.  Some of his unconventional methods include his commitment to up-cycling and recycling materials to produce art.  His rationale for this decision, dating back to 1992, was that “it seemed appropriate as there was and is so much “stuff” out there, and mining for new felt wrong and excessive.”  His answer to, “why raw gemstones?” is even simpler and clearly treasured as he articulates his adoration for rocks, accredited to grade school geology class.  “I love how they came out of the earth just like us.  You don’t need to mess with them.” 

You can find hundreds of quotes referencing the sentiment of falling in love with the process.  Reed not only fell, but he also embraced a lifetime commitment. However, his success in the mainstream arena came with demands resembling a marionette master pulling him in every direction.  Hearing the seconds ticking away ascending to 50 (cue Hans Zimmer’s “Time”) he asked himself, “If I only have a couple more minutes left, what do I want to do with them?”  With that, he sifted through his business model until all that remained was his joy of design and walked away the industry game.  With a deep sense of gratitude, Reed discloses the wonder in his new, smaller model.  “Smaller things are richer…I’m getting to curate everything now, including picking the flowers from the garden.  I feel I am lucky every day.”  He further credits his customers.  “Your customers build your brand. They keep you going and finding truth.”

Aside from influencing new trends, decades of observing, collecting, and creating through his own lens rather than chasing fashions is more than a well calculated investment.  It is foresight for a legacy.  He has diligently acquired countless ethically sourced stones and materials, of the rarest and highest quality, poised for any vision that may flow from his fingertips.  He has established the foundation of a true American Heritage Brand, stockpiling thousands of drawings, and has begun grooming his successor and daughter, Flora Maria Reed-Maier.  When inquired of his driving force to challenge boundaries defined within his field, his retort is on par with perhaps Mozart or Michelangelo.  “I think the naivety to be able to create these things is what makes me courageous.”

If you have followed Todd Reed’s career, you likely know he started working with clothing, leather and other media.  What you may not know is that his family is Tissot Watch Company, a Swiss luxury brand building watches since 1853.  “Time is a great metaphor, a manifestation we all agree upon.”  Reed was 30 when he made his first attempt to fabricate a watch but discovered there was much more to learn with moving pieces and left it simmering on the backburner for nearly two decades.  As the “un-becoming” of his brand continued, the pandemic contributed a compounded layer of stillness, granting Reed a season to retreat into his studio cocoon and develop the skillset running through his veins. When describing the months spent dissecting and rebuilding ‘broken’ watches, it sounds much like Alice’s journey in Wonderland, “I love it, because the focus keeps getting smaller and smaller.” 

Two years and 200 reconstructed watches later, he has emerged vibrantly with a rapidly evolving collection of his own.  The May 2023 exclusive unveiling at Austin Proper luxury lifestyle hotel felt like a fine arts exhibition of décor for your person rather than your space.  In traditional Todd Reed form, most parts have been upcycled from quality, retired watches, including vintage leather bracelets and “odd-ball crowns.”  With tasteful refinement, you will notice he maintains his integral methods of forging with both classic and modern techniques, preserving the question of whether the piece was “scooped out of the bottom of the ocean or from an art museum.” 

In addition to designing accessorized statements and developing unprecedented time pieces, Reed spends much of his dynamism woven into philanthropic efforts of his community, transferring tribal knowledge to his young team, and collaborating with others.  He nurtures the unlearning of institutional practices so they may tap into their ingenuity for Dr. Seuss enigmas such as “how do you put something in a round die and make it come out unround?”  Family images of permanently hunched over watchmakers with crumpled fingers moved Reed to mindfully restructure his jeweler’s workload as well.  Tasks are rotated based on physical demands to ensure they remain healthy and capable.  “Ability and energy, that’s how we decide what we make,” another demonstration of his emphasis on longevity. 

Todd’s continuous evolvement of virtuosity is centered in holistic quality metalsmithing.  His production has returned to “one of a kind” liveliness that now includes delicate effervescence, newfangled jewel tones, feminine curves, and even a sense of sanctuary.  Additionally, Reed bubbles with excitement regarding his newly revealed timekeeper endeavor. “I feel like a kid again!  I am very proud, but I know it is just step one.  I am certain I will uncover new techniques that have never been done before…making secrets accessible.”  Brilliant conversation of innovative development already underway and “hidden surprises” draws a contagious glimmer in his eyes baring the essence of his heritage brand.  Each piece is a time capsule intended to be passed down for generations.  “I am interested in the collector audience that loves fine things and want handmade products with heart…art institutions and galleries.” 

Even the greatest photography cannot fully capture the grandeur nature.  I recommend voyaging to his cave of wonders by appointment at 1911 Pearl Street, Boulder, Colorado and experiencing the exquisite elements for yourself.  “I have a hunger to make things really beautiful and to last forever, one piece at a time…a talisman for you.”                   toddreed.com

‘Quality Over Quantity’ with Veldhuizen Cheese

“I try to keep farming fun and interesting!” This is not a phrase you hear out of an average farmer’s mouth, but it is the beautiful mentality of Stuart Veldhuizen of Veldhuizen Cheese in Dublin, Texas.  As I ride in the back of his dusty, open-air Jeep, rounding up cows for their 4pm milking, I listen to an artist describing his masterpiece rather than a farmer explaining his operation.  The land is unquestionably his canvas and the quality collection of hand-blended bloodlines, his rainbowed palette.  There are no shades of gray to be found in the warm tone of which he describes his journey developing the family farm.  With 45 acres and 18 cows to produce a couple simple cheeses, Stuart and his wife, Connie, set out to build a new life for their family from scratch.  A lifestyle rich in presence and experiences for their children, where everyone shared a meal at the dinner table 7 days a week.  20 years later with 80 cows and 60 sheep supplying over two dozen different cheeses to fine-dining establishments, markets, and a thriving cheese club, Veldhuizen Farm is a slice of paradise worth the drive.  The future is even more vibrant with construction underway for a new tasting room to host more elaborate educational culinary events.

Cows born into the mainstream American dairy industry are bred in the name of consumerism, or ‘quantity over quality.’  Their lifespan rarely exceeds 5 years, while the natural age of a cow is 15-20 years. On average, they produce 6-7 gallons of milk a day with Holsteins taking the cake at 9 gallons.  A recent conversation with a bovine nutrition specialist on a long flight to Lisbon enlightened me of statistics measured to support the outdated mentality.  The posed question is that of an engine equation rather than a living animal.  “Which breed of cow has the greatest efficiency or energy output per energy input?”  The answer is the black and white favorite again, Holstein, making up 90% of the 90+ million dairy cows in the U.S.   

In great contrast, Veldhuizen explains his philosophy, “I am all about quality contents, not quantity,” and follows up with a bit of his dairy’s history. “Years ago, I was getting 200 gallons of milk a day, yielding 45lbs of cheese. After changing my genetic focus to quality contents of the milk rather than quantity produced, I was getting the same amount of milk but yielding 60lbs of cheese per day!” The farm’s current headcount of active milkers is 59 cows, producing an average of 300 gallons a day.  Most of the herd are Jersey, known for high butter-fat content and their big Bambi eyes, as well as Guernsey with a stunning array of colored coats.  “The milk flavor is really good, and the color of the milk is just gorgeous!” Veldhuizen excitedly explains regarding his interest in the Guernsey breed.  Other genetics sprinkled throughout include Brown Swiss, Holstein, and Normande. 

According to international experts in the scholar world, Veldhuizen’s modest approach to crossbreeding, rather than volume-focused monoculture, is cutting edge science that has only been “discovered in the last 10-15 years.”  They have found that crossbreeding strengthens genetic resilience and enrichens the pool of positive traits, contrary to the old purist beliefs.  That seems obvious after researchers at Pennsylvania State University traced 99% of American Holstein males back to only 2 bulls born in the 1960’s.  Results for female genetics came back only slightly more positive.  With limited genetic diversity, the future for the industry on this projection is like watching the Titanic.  Between climate changes and new diseases, the question is not “if” there will be a catastrophe; it is “when?”

A menagerie of colors and patterned cows paint the textured field of barley, oats, and peas. This is the spring crop contributing to his favorite profile of milk.  Much like terroir affects wine or coffee, the flavor of the milk, cheese and butter is a direct reflection of the nutrients consumed by dairy animals.  “The milk is just so rich, and sweet, and yellow when they are on barley and oats. Grain makes somewhat of a difference, but if you don’t have good green grass, you just don’t get it.”  The farm has received less rain than usual the last few years.  When the land cannot support the animals, Veldhuizen supplements by shipping in truckloads of premium pesticide-free hay and grain.  “Prices have gotten outrageous!”  He scoffs but also makes it evident that he will not compromise his value of quality.  There is a colorful political rabbit hole explaining “why” the pricing is non-proportional.

If you follow the food chain down from the cows, you will find that beneficial microbes, both in the soil and the gut, are the real heroes.  Microbes are microorganisms that feed on decomposing organic material, transforming it into an accessible form of nutrition for everyone above them on the chain.  They also support the immune systems of plants and animals by fighting harmful bacteria and diseases.  Toxic pesticides may serve their intended purpose, but they also cause severe collateral damage to the microbiome, both in the earth and the consumers.  This vicious cycle spirals with now inaccessible nutrition and compromised immune systems, leading to more predatory pests and diseases. 

Pride and accomplishment fill the air as Stuart stops the Jeep to pick pea tendrils to snack on. “Look at this! You would never think that 20 years ago it was like concrete!”  When his family first acquired the land, the dirt was cracked and dead.  Those unfamiliar with soil makeup may assume the poor state was due to a lack of water and likely resort to chemical supplementation for a miracle.  Instead, Stuart’s first move was hauling in 20 tons of compost to begin nursing the land back to health.  Healthy soil also means that precious rainwater is retained for the plants rather than running off.  Since then, he has planted crops based on what they give and take from the soil for continuous improvement, resulting in the lush landscape it is today.  “Farming is HARD work,” Velhuizen says with a contagious smile.  He beams as he expresses his gratitude for the culture they have successfully nurtured within their family farm with three generations contributing.  “One daughter manages our sheep program, another manages marketing and relations, and I have the best grandchildren!” he points out as they tend to the evening milking.  “It is hard to find good help, especially since the pandemic.”  I ask him what other side effects the farm has faced since 2020.  Always maintaining his underlying warm chord of joy, he responds in line with every other farmer I have talked to on the issue.  “Most restaurants either cut out local products like ours that are considered a luxury to stay afloat or shut their doors altogether…we are just now seeing business pick back up in that area.”  We both agree that it frequently comes down to education.  Many people are so far removed from where their food comes from, how could they possibly know the drastic difference between an artisanal operation like Veldhuizen’s versus major corporations without a little guidance?  All science aside, I assure you will know it when you experience the difference in Dublin.

For aspiring farmers out there, I asked Veldhuizen, “If you did it over again, what would you do differently?”  His reply was swift, “I would have started smaller with fewer cows until I really got it figured out.”  As a farmer myself, I agree whole-heartedly with this notion.  When raising or growing living things, the lessons, both easy and hard, are more manageable with a smaller operation.  Changing a corporation is like trying to turn a cruise ship.  It can be done, but slowly over time.  Small farmers are much more agile with continuous growth and implementation of best-practices, making life-changing impact on their communities.  They can do that even more effectively with your support and uniting a network of best-practice minds.  Go connect with your local farmers.  Ask for their products at your favorite restaurants.  Plant some seeds.  Take care of your microbiome.  Whether it is a daytrip or a full-blown vacation, seek out agro-tourism when you travel.  Your visit could be the tipping point for that farmer.  You have power to influence change. veldhuizencheese.com