Hog heaven

Nearing the end of my stint in Iowa, land of corn and pigs -- no, really, most of the postcards in the state feature one or both of these -- I stopped to assess a few things. Had I worked on a cornfield in the state? No. Pig farm? No. Hmmm.

Now, Iowa has a reputation as largely the land of CAFO (Confined Animal Feeding Operation) pork farms and fields of genetically-modified feedcorn and soybeans (to fatten up animals crammed into the CAFOs). This is actually the case: across the entire eastern half of the state which produces most of our country's pork I never once saw a pig outdoors. (Not even on the handful of nice days over the course of nearly a month as I roamed from Dubuque to Davenport to Des Moines to Decorah.) However, I'd heard of alternatives and was hoping to spend a little time on a sustainable pork farm. I'd read a bit about Niman Ranch's commitment to free-range, humane animal treatment, so when the opportunity arose to work with Paul, who has a hog farm himself and manages the organization's pork farmers in the region, I gladly took it.

Paul and Phyllis welcomed me onto their farm -- and into their kitchen -- in Thornton, IA for a few days to learn about free-range hog farming and their lifelong devotion to raising animals conscientiously. They have been doing it for over 30 years. They have continued their work while being surrounded by confined animal feeding operations and neighbors who scowl and yell and wag fingers at the upstarts who dare to go against the grain, who have the poor manners -- it *is* the midwest -- to question the status quo. They try to be friendly toward members of the community, but at the same time the Willises stand firmly behind an unwavering code of ethics when it comes to raising their animals. (They are also avid birders and land stewards, I learned, and had converted large portions of their property back to native prairie -- also uncommon for their area. Rebels with a cause, those two.)

I tagged along with Paul on morning chores each day. I helped him relocate a mama sow and piglets who had nested outdoors during the freezing rainstorm, shepherding them to a nearby corrugated metal shed. (Dozens of these straw-filled, single pig family homes dotted each grazing field, offering shelter from the elements while one open side retained access to the pasture at all times.) I learned about the lack of market for boar meat due to its intense, er, 'musky' odor and the standard practice of castrating the young male piglets to prevent the hormone-based flavor development. (The procedure was quick and the tiny piglets healed quickly, I observed... a bit squeamishly.) We pitchforked fresh hay into the pig houses for the sows to nest and checked to be sure the feed was accessible. (Paul quite deftly sprung into and out of one of the feeders at one point -- quite spry for a man probably double my age. Must be all of the exercise and great food... he and Phyllis are quite the cooks.)

I also should admit that I was often distracted by the pigs. As I approached each section of the field, sows and piglets sprinted away, then crept back toward me. As I stood still, chatting and leaning on my pitchfork, they curiously sniffed, shuffling ever closer, and tried to nibble on the fork tines or my plastic boot covers. (So: goats like my pants, turkeys like my shoelaces, pigs like my boot covers.) Paul often smiled and shook his head, patiently reminding me after awhile that we did need to, you know, finish up the chores. The pigs were so cute!

I have to agree with Dave, who regularly visits the farm, ostensibly to collaborate on farm policy initiatives: the piglets at Paul's free-range hog farm are possibly the cutest animals ever. (Though Dave and Paul are good friends, and co-founded the advocacy group Food Democracy Now, I wouldn't be surprised if Dave stops by sometimes just to cavort with the piglets in their pasture.) They are happy pigs if I ever saw any. And after a life of fresh air, romping around in the mud and grass, and being processed a few at a time at small local butcher shops (like Ventura Locker, where we picked up the porkchops for Friday night's feast), I swear they are the most delicious.


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Show me the movement

I have come into contact with a lot of inspirational people so far in my journey to learn about food. Many have been the farmers who have chosen to devote their lives to sustainable agriculture, to growing good food for others in their community because they feel it's the right thing to do. Some are folks I have read about for some time, who have emerged as voices speaking powerfully on behalf of the movement toward better food in our country, those changing the way we interact with food. There's Michael Pollan, whose books and articles continue to examine the bizarre animal that is the American consumer of foodlike substances in an effort to inform and advocate for a food system overhaul. (I really did get kind of giddy listening to him speak, and found myself entirely too shy to introduce myself when I was within 3 feet of him during the book signing at the Food For Thought festival back in Madison.) There's Will Allen who is fostering relationships within his local community and beyond while he produces massive amounts of chemical-free food and teaches folks how to grow their own. (I was also too awestruck to introduce myself to him when he gave a talk at the local community center during my time in Madison.) And there's Dave Murphy, the food activist I finally worked up the nerve to try and contact and subsequently had the pleasure of meeting at the recent conference on food security in Des Moines.

Dave, who founded Food Democracy Now in an effort to promote more sustainability-minded Secretary of Agriculture candidates for appointment under the new White House administration, comes to food from an entirely different angle than many at the conference. Some folks work on community organizing, some on food production, some on establishing connections between farms and buyers, some on nutrition education. Dave works on policy. It's important for folks to know how to produce and consume food responsibly, he conceded, but for real change to happen on a larger scale, what he argues for is a change at the policy level. In short, we need legislation that shifts state and federal funds to encourage more sound agricultural practices, and which ceases funding to programs that are destroying farmers and their livelihoods (not to mention the planet and our national health).

While he casually references the ridiculous number of miles he's put on his car going around to talk with farmers all over the state, it's evident that he really does his homework: talking with people who make the policies and those affected by them to get a real understanding of what's going on. (And talk about smart. I swear he eats those indecipherable proposed House bills and regulation documents for breakfast.) From Dave, I learned about the horrific state of large-scale animal food production in our country, and in Iowa in particular. There are more humane ways to raise animals for food than on confined animal feedlots (or as they are known in the business, CAFOs) -- I have visited farms all around the eastern half of the country, so I know there are alternatives. Dave told me of a pending proposal to give millions of dollars to perpetuate a failing (and, in my opinion, ethically reprehensible in its treatment of animals) factory farm system to stem the farmers' record losses resulting from high feed costs and massive overproduction. Another bailout?? Rather than amending their practices, these farms who are sitting low on the hog (for a change) are asking for more government money to continue (subsidized) business as usual. What will be done with all of the excess pork that can't be sold? Most likely it will end up in some fried pork foodlike substance on your kid's styrofoam school lunch tray.

"Show me the movement": I've heard the now famous instance of President Obama -- well, it's famous in the local food movement world, anyway, since Pollan has bandied it about in a few of his talks by now -- claiming that in order for the White House to get behind the relatively small but growing call for sustainable, regional food systems, people were going to have to get louder about it. There needs to be a public outcry against the current system that is slowly but surely making us poorer and then killing us earlier. Our current food system, like our healthcare system, is broken. (And you thought I could make it a whole post without ranting about healthcare, which, incidentally, was another hot topic at the food security conference. Well, as I've said, they're related.) The fact that Ag Secretary Vilsack gave a talk at breakfast during the final morning of the food security conference means that Washington may be starting to listen. But we're not loud enough yet.

Change. Michael Pollan may write about it, but it's people like Dave who will make it happen. Right now, he is part of a campaign that is gathering signatures to protest the pork bailout package. You can add your voice to the petition here. It is a small but important step toward the long overdue overhaul of our country's food system.