35. The Farmer

We didn’t think of ourselves as environmentalists when I was growing up, and we didn’t have any romantic notions about living off the land. We just grew our own food or bought it from neighbors. We were doing what made sense, and farm families, by and large, have a lot of common sense. We’ve been losing that lately for lots of reasons. One is that there are fewer family farmers these days, and increasingly their work is considered “agribusiness”. The same is true for small scale farmers, unless they’re organic.

When my grandparents were farming in 1900, nearly 40% of the total U.S. population lived on farms. Today that number is about 1%. There were six to seven million farms in the early 1900’s, but over the last century that number has shrunk to the point that farm production today is largely concentrated among 160,000 producers. The amount of farm labor today is one fourth of what it was in 1948. There are still small farms though, but more than half of all farms have total annual sales of less than $25,000, and those farms produce less than 1% of our agricultural output.

Because fewer and fewer of us live on farms these days we’ve lost much of our practical relationship to the land. I’m still close enough to my family history that when it rains, I think of the farmers. Minnesota still has enough farmers throughout the state that our news and weather forecasts refer to how the heat and rainfall affects them. Increasingly, however, we live in cities and apartments and we’re just less connected to the land for our livelihoods.

We are also losing the concept of seasonality. We live and work in climate-controlled buildings and our exercise and entertainment increasingly occur indoors. When it comes to food, we want whatever we can get our hands on no matter the season or where it’s grown. Today it’s estimated that meals in the U.S. travel about 1,500 miles to get from farm to plate. That doesn’t make sense. Here’s why (from the Center for Urban Education about Sustainable Agriculture, or CUESA);

• Long-distance, large-scale transportation of food consumes large quantities of fossil fuels that require almost 10 times more fossil fuel energy than the food energy we receive from it.

• Transporting food over long distances generates large quantities of carbon dioxide emissions, with airfreight 50 times greater than sea shipping, so our demand for fresh foods requires more polluting transportation.

• In order to ship food long distance, it’s picked before it’s ripe. It ripens during and after transport, which often requires preservatives and others means to stabilize it for transport and sale.

Supporting local food growers and producers doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy things shipped across country or even from overseas, but it does require that we start with and emphasize what is local, fresh and seasonal. In the process we are going to be eating tastier, healthier food, especially if we are supporting local farmers through farmers markets. The added joy of shopping at farmers markets is that you get to know the growers. They operate small acreage farms or truck gardens and many of them are multi-generational. In Minnesota, the farmers markets have been transformed by Hmong families who started arriving as refugees in 1975, after the communist seizure of Vietnam. They typically labor with hand tools and use traditional methods, and the displays of their produce at market are gorgeous.

Yes, as Eric says, there are rice states and potato states, and that determines much of a state’s cuisine. My family grew potatoes and we ate potatoes. Rice was exotic. I only ate rice on Christmas Eve and at Chinese restaurants. We’re so committed to the potato that in Moorhead, Minnesota, the high school mascot is the Spud. If you go to Concordia College in Moorhead, your team is the Cobbers (named for locally-grown corn). That’s how dedicated we are to our local produce.

I never had an avocado before I met Eric. Eric grew up in California where they are a staple. He still laughs when I call a burger with lettuce and tomato a “California Burger”, but that’s what we in Minnesota called a hamburger with fresh produce. He says a burger would have to have a slice of avocado to qualify as a California Burger, and I guess he’d know.

The point is, we Minnesotans travel, we read, we dine out and we even partner with people from California. Once introduced to it, we begin to want what others have. As Eric’s father would say, “Your exotic destination is someone else’s boring backyard”. I just think that somehow there’s got to be a way to appreciate the exotic and still follow the practical, economic and environmental imperative of embracing what’s in our backyards. This can get tricky, and even political. That’s where common-sense kicks in. We can be globalists and still support local farmers. We can incorporate world cuisine into our diet and still draw on seasonal ingredients.

There are many who believe that it will take heroic efforts to solve our environmental challenges, and they are probably right. For me, heroic is an overused word. We call people heroes for doing what they’re supposed to do, for doing the right thing and for merely doing right by their neighbors. I believe that’s integrity and respect, not heroism. Sometimes we are required to sacrifice, which is really more about modesty than heroism. I think that in order for us to find a way to a sustainable future on this planet, we have to start with modesty. Modesty in the way that we consume, modesty in the way that we interact with nature, and modesty in the way that we understand how we share with our neighbors. A modest meal can still be fully satisfying and rich with flavor. In fact, even more so, if we grow some of our own food and support our local farmers as much as possible.

Can I get an amen for that?

Crab and Corn Bisque

If there is one seasonal food item that I find truly superior in Minnesota, it is the magnificent sweet corn available here every Summer. There are plenty of other wonderful local food treasures to be found in our bountiful farmers markets (and we certainly take advantage of them), but the real treat for us every year is when we can finally get Minnesota-grown sweet corn. Corn from some Southern states might start showing up in the grocery stores as early as May, but the corn they ship to the North never seems to be good enough, and I will charitably blame transportation for that. States incrementally further north start shipping their produce in the months that follow, but Chris and I usually wait until July, when Minnesota corn finally starts to appear in the markets. Once we are in full corn season, we try to enjoy dishes that feature corn as much as possible. Anticipation makes the corn even sweeter.

While nothing beats simple corn on the cob, there are plenty of other corn-centric dishes that we enjoy, many of them (but not all) coming from Southern culinary traditions. At the peak of summer’s corn season, the highlight is when we make the recipe below for Crab and Corn Bisque. This is a classic Louisiana Summer soup, which surprises people who wonder how anyone could eat hot soup during a Louisiana summer. But summer is when the seasons for both crab and corn overlap, and they pair so perfectly that they should be enjoyed no matter the weather. They want to be together.

To state the obvious, there is no local crab in Minnesota. After emphasizing regional produce all Summer, we feel okay about indulging in some lump crab meat shipped in from Louisiana or Maryland. Chris looks forward to this soup every year, and his sister Becky longingly requests I make it for her each Summer. There is nothing spicy about this soup at all, just a celebration of the bounty of the season. ~Eric

6 ears fresh corn on the cob
1/2 cup flour
1 quart chicken stock
2 tbsp salt
1 1/2 pound lump crabmeat
1/2 cup butter
1/2 bunch green onions, finely minced
1 quart half and half
1/2 tsp ground white pepper

1. Cut kernels from ears of corn, remove all silk, and set aside.

2. Cut the kernels off the cobs, then “milk” them over a bowl by running the back edge of a knife up and down the cob to get the remaining corn essence.

3. Melt butter in heavy saucepan and blend in the flour; cook 3 minutes.

4. Add minced green onions; cook until softened, about 2 minutes or so.

5. Whisk in hot stock and then bring to boil.

6. Add half & half and corn kernels and the cob “milk”.

7. Bring to boil and then turn down to a simmer for about 20 minutes.

8. Carefully fold in the crabmeat.

9. Adjust seasoning to taste.

   Serves 6