To Promote Local Food Resilience: Get Social

Josh and Ashley Blaesar of Blaeser Farms in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin.

“Growing up in rural Cumberland, people knew that my parents had a farm, but they didn’t know that they could come there and buy meat if they wanted to.”

Ashley Blaeser, who owns and operates Blaeser Farms in Wisconsin with her husband, Josh, hits on something incredibly important with this memory.

Many Americans have been buying their groceries from chain supermarkets our whole lives. The acquisition of our food is a transactional experience. It takes place at a store, at our convenience, accompanied by some small talk with a cashier.

To think of knocking on a local farmer’s door and asking to buy a gallon of milk or pound of beef makes me uncomfortable. And I live in rural Wisconsin—I’m literally too nervous to knock on my neighbor’s door and ask to support their livelihood, my health, and the health of my community by buying food from them.

I called Josh Blaeser’s personal cell phone in April to see if I could reserve a quarter beef (in other words, to see if I could buy one-fourth of a cow from them). I know, I know. A cell phone number. What if I was bothering him?

Ashley joked that this anxiety might be the “social distance that’s been between us all along.” But I wasn’t the only one overcoming it.

The demand for Blaeser Farms beef skyrocketed with the arrival of the coronavirus and subsequent shut-downs, restrictions, and rations. Josh told me that he’d been inundated with orders. What is usually a 2-4 week wait for custom beef orders turned into a 6-8 week wait as nervous people ordered enough to put back. The Blaesers didn’t turn away a single customer.

“When Walmart ran out of beef, and Woodmans ran out of beef, they put out a sign that said ‘limit two pounds per person,’” Josh recalled. “And just like the toilet paper thing, it created an absolute nightmare for people, and now we have to have it.”

In April, some of the biggest meat processing facilities in the country temporarily shut down when their employees tested positive for COVID-19. Hundreds of thousands of animals were redirected to smaller processors, and plenty were slaughtered in waste because of backlogs. This, combined with increased demand for meat, resulted in empty store shelves.

While larger outfits suffered the consequences of tightly coupled systems, small farms across the country have stepped in to meet the demand of their communities.

First, this means food. Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) saw a surge of new interest. Boutique farmers who raise animals for local restaurants redirected sales to home consumers with great success.

Local farms are also in a unique position to build community in creative ways through the pandemic. When several local farmers markets delayed the beginning of their season out of caution and state requirement, the Blaesers hosted an outdoor, drive-through market in their own driveway. One day there was a line of cars a mile long full of people waiting to purchase local food. The day we went, every vendor was just as eager for physically distanced conversation as they were to make up lost business. Farmers, vendors, and customers alike left with newly forged connections.

“It brought the neighborhood together,” Josh said.

Josh and Ashley said they were more social than ever during the height of pandemic restrictions. They invited neighbors to let their children play on the farm when playgrounds weren’t a safe option. They worked with surrounding property owners to trade beef for permission to graze cattle on their land, since booming business means they’ll have to double the size of their herd next year. With fewer places to go and less to do, people were more willing to slow down, spend more time with one another, and go out of their way to support local systems.

But while the Blaesers see the benefits of this redoubled investment in community, they have their doubts about whether the Chippewa Valley will maintain their new, neighborhood-focused habits as the food supply chain reorients and calenders fill up with new obligations.

I asked them what lessons we should take from the experience. Here are some practices we discussed together.

1. Talk up local food systems and farmers.

Above and beyond buying food locally, it’s important to evangelize it. Leave good reviews online. Recommend vendors and farmers markets to your friends. Perhaps most importantly, share your locally grown food with others to show them that it’s delicious, healthy, and affordable. Help others who have less access to local food enjoy its benefits when possible.

2. When possible, prioritize local food systems over convenience.

Even where there are farmers markets and co-ops, it can be difficult to choose local food over mass-produced goods. Fresh food requires more care in storage and better meal planning. It is also often available in less convenient locations and only during certain days or hours. Doing a week’s worth of grocery shopping usually requires more than one stop. Once someone is in a position to make these sacrifices to support community food systems, it comes down to prioritizing the long-term, holistic benefit of going the extra mile (often literally) to do so.

3. Talk to your farmer.

When Ashley cracked about “the social distance that’s been between us all along,” she was recognizing a very real barrier between people and local food—one that requires work on the parts of producers and consumers alike. Just as I need to overcome the anxiety that prevents me from meeting and learning about my food-growing neighbors, farmers need to smooth the way a bit for those who live different lifestyles. While we talked, Josh asked me if it would be easier for people like me to reach out if they had a sign in front of their farm that listed their phone number and encouraged people to call or text to buy meat or stop by. Absolutely! They have also done outreach in the past by hosting petting zoos. Next, they’re working on early-stage plans to host a burger night or two on their farm, where they will meet community members and teach them about farm living. 

We aren’t used to food production and acquisition being this kind of social experience. But the resilience of our communities—our ability to weather more than a little upset in national and international food systems—depends on learning how to live this way again.

---

---