Rebel with a Cause- Food Nazis

by Joel Salatin

“You’re food Nazis,” wrote the irate customer in her e-mail to our farm.  The accusation stung, but more than that, it exposed a gross ignorance about local foods.

The e-mail outburst followed a dialogue about product availability. She wanted bacon and had been denied three deliveries in a row. In her mind, it was preposterous that we would have ham, tenderloin, spareribs, and sausage but no bacon. She couldn’t believe we didn’t have bacon, and assumed we were hoarding it someplace for some other patron more privileged than she. Hence her diatribe.

In local food circles, quite a bit of discussion centers on seasonal eating. Asparagus does not grow year round in the Mid-Atlantic. It’s a seasonal delicacy; one of the first signs of spring. By summer, it’s gone because not only does it get tougher, the gardener knows that the plant must be allowed to grow to restore energy reserves for next spring. The tender spring shoots depend on stored energy.

Although we can grow pigs year-round, their muscle groups are not perfectly distributed for the marketplace. Most of the hog is ham. The next largest portion is the shoulder, then the loin, then the ribs, and finally the belly. When cured, the belly becomes bacon.

This disparity in volume is why sometimes you’ll see skewed pricing on local meat products. In supermarkets, turkey bacon (amalgamated, reconstituted turkey meat doctored up to resemble cured pork bacon) competes with the real deal and takes pressure off the inventory problem.  But when all we sell is the real deal, the most common way to solve the volume disparity is with price. And when that doesn’t work, we’re just sold out. Sorry.

In Australia recently on a speaking tour, I visited a small diversified farm in New South Wales. Primarily a vegetable and special events operation, it also had a small flock of laying hens that couldn’t keep up with demand for eggs. In a refreshingly alternative pricing approach, their sign said: “Eggs, $4 a dozen. Each additional dozen, $6.” I couldn’t believe what the sign said, so I laughingly asked the farmer if it was a gimmick. “No. It’s to discourage volume buying and spread the eggs around to as many people as possible,” he explained, matter-of-factly.

I thought it was hilarious. What a wonderful way to impress on customers that the supply is precious. How perfectly anti-global.

Our farm does not have a warehouse with thousands of pounds of product waiting to enter our retail pipeline. And if we’re short of something, we don’t call Smithfield and order some bacon to make up the shortfall. If you want bacon more frequently, help us eat through the ham (think pork barbecue or fresh pork roast–mmm) and then we can increase our pork production.

Many small farming ventures have failed due to inventory control. Letting unsold inventory build while selling the other half of the animal will sink even the best-intentioned outfits. Yes, I want to make sales too. No, I don’t like saying “Sold Out.” But no farm can stay in business selling only a portion of its product. And small farms have few cushions. To be called a “Food Nazi” for trying to keep a balance on this most important of business realities shows a profound disregard toward the needs of the local small farmer.

The need of the hour is for patrons to ask their farmers: “How can I help you deal with your inventory? Do you have some blemished tomatoes? Are you long on pork backbone or beef chuck roast?” Patrons who ask these kinds of questions get hugs from us.

If you really want to help a small farmer, don’t call him a Nazi for being temporarily out of stock. Dust off your cookbooks and buy something you’ve never tried. Ask him how you can help adjust his inventory. You’ll endear yourself to that farmer in unimaginable ways, and show your local food team spirit.

Internationally acclaimed farmer, conference speaker, and author Joel Salatin and his family operate Polyface Farms in Augusta County near Staunton, Va., producing and direct-marketing “salad bar” beef, “pigaerator” pork, and pastured poultry. He is also co-owner of T&E Meats in Harrisonburg. His most recent book is “Folks, This Ain’t Normal.”