It's about the ingredients, Silly.

In our house, we don't use the other word.

Posting about my effort to get local tomatoes has me thinking more about the rest of my shopping for the business. One day, back in July, I drove nearly a full day. From Columbus, I went through a driving rain storm (the last for more than a month) to Elwood, Indiana and Red Gold. Two days a week, they sell direct at one of their warehouses. I bought a variety of second choices. My preferred cans weren't available, #10 cans of crushed. So, I got 4 cases of a couple types. It was cheap AND somewhat lo cal, but I really needed a better way, since I could only get the size and quantity I needed by driving up there and being lucky. The products I wanted are undisclosed private labels not sold here. BUT it's a great experience. If you have a free day, try it. The schedule is on RedGold.com.

From there, I headed north to Berne. Berne is to Switzerland as Frankenmuth, MI is to Germany-land at Epcot Center, only less so. It's not as touristy except during their annual festival. On the north side of Berne is Swissland Cheese. From what I can piece together, Swissland contracts milk from Amish dairies in the region and makes delicious cheese. Their most popular cheeses, just like the cheese shop in Frankenmuth, are heavily flavored or smoked. Cheese spreads, chocolate cheese and curds seem to be the main tourist fodder. Having their commercial catalog let me preorder about 60 pounds of other cheese, though. I bought a few cases of a shredded blend for most of the pizzas. I grabbed a 6# block of smoked Gouda that was still warm from the smoker. Asiago, Gouda, assorted curds, and raw milk chipotle goat cheddar. I filled my coolers and headed home. Again, I think this is an awesome place.

When I got home, I was slightly disappointed to read that my "conventional cheese" originated in Camden, MI. Disappointed because I was aiming for an Indiana pizza. Not so much because it was still close and not Wisconsin, Vermont, or California. I spent some summers near Camden. Shoot, I helped birth cows at a dairy near there while working at camp. Add that they would deliver to me for $25 if I ordered enough and that it cost a quarter of what the local maker of mozzarella wants for non shredded cheese, it was a deal. It still is. su

I had planned to pick up flour near Howe that same day, but time and weather were against me. That's a whole different story for another time. One thing I learned was just how important ingredient integrity is to me. It has been a priority to be able to say with certainty where the food I serve comes from and to know that the farmers, laborers and even the companies along the way have a fair, equitable share of the rewards. We're getting there.

It's been a while but the journey continues.

Starting a business from nothing is hard. As if anyone needs to say that. If it were easy... you can finish the thought.

In July 2012, we finally took delivery of the oven. It's first pizzas were cooked on July 16th at home. The following Saturday, the 21st, we sold 46 pizzas at the Farmers Market. That was a great start to build from. Unfortunately, the oppressive heat and drought kept the early crowds away. It was our best day. It was a tough season.

However, on the 14th, I had taken the oven and lit a curing fire to tend during the market. That's when I met Max, Max Lemley. One thing I can say that is universal is that anyone named Max is memorable. Max Lemley is certainly no exception. Max encouraged me to follow my passion for local ingredients and even said that if I got tomatoes grown, his company, M & D Marketing could pack them for my use or even retail in his FDA inspected facility. That sounded far fetched, but I kept it in mind "for the future."

A few weeks later, I made pizzas for the Wine Club our neighbors hosted. After the rush was over, I settled down in their party room and met Mary and Mike Johnston. What I remember most is that Mary wanted a water buffalo for their hobby farm. She asked me if I'd buy cheese if she made it. Of course I said I would.

Well, enter December and I'm working at 240sweet packaging marshmallows to pay my workman's comp insurance bill. Chef Alexa tells me I need to talk with Second Act Farm. They're growing organic produce, she says, and they just might grow on a larger scale for me. A Facebook reminder in January comes and I send a note. My surprise is not yours. Mike wrote me back and was enthused. We met before Valentine's Day and it looks like we're going to have fun with this.

My plan right now is to package it all as crushed tomatoes. We'll package some for sale and if there's way more than we can use, we'll sell them at the farmers markets and maybe the co-ops in the area. I don't plan to add anything other than perhaps to adjust pH and salinity. They'll not likely be Certified Organic, but they will be sustainably and naturally grown and processed.

I'm also planning to add another farm or two. If I put all my tomatoes in one place, I'm turning a farm into a monoculture and I'm risking a lot to pests. By spreading out the crop, we can get a more predictable harvest, we can support more farms and we can help diversify farmland in the county.

And that's how I found myself in the tomato business.

Remains of some birds.

Do you know what it's like to take delivery of 10 (or more) recently dispatched chickens? I hope you do. It's an important part of knowing our food. What I've come to realize is how important it is to me to receive them fresh and whole.

First, Why Whole?

The simple part of the answer is that it's less expensive for everyone. When they have to go through each bird and remove bones and bits, it gets expensive.

But wait! There's more.

If you've bought a chicken with it's neck attached, you know how much work there is yet to do whether you want to fry it, roast it or spatchcock it. Every cut opens up a new world of microbiology, not only for your GI tract but also to rot the bird. With the labor market tight for low paying, manual labor, the people left to that work aren't necessarily worried about your family as much as their own... and for good reason.

Second, Appreciation of our Food. The other night, we feasted on a chicken roasted over potatoes and garlic. That meal has survived memory partly due to spontaneous celebration. Our not-quite-4 year old enjoys sucking meat off the bones. His excitement was channeled into a song, Chicken On The Bone. I'll try to record it for posterity, and Prom, soon. Yesterday, I took the picked bones of that chicken and with a bag of chicken and turkey carcasses from carving pieces from our previous CSA birds, I made about 4 gallons of stock. Some of this has joined the remaining chicken meat and egg noodles for dinner tonight. This is a toe to beak meal, to be sure. As our boys grow up, I hope the learn this appreciation of buying "Chicken on the Bone" and the joy and celebration of that on which we dine.

Back to it.

It's been a long time since I've really had a chance to focus on where our food is coming from. In reality, it's a first world problem as are things like GMO foods, Organic production methods and market fairness. Without going into details, this move has had impacted our finances in many ways.

So, when Deborah Sent me off to North Manchester on Valentine's Day to get half a hog from the Hawkins Family Farm, it was quite an occassion. Just traveling that far used up 2 tanks of fuel, making it an expensive adventure. Worth it, but costly.

We're also working on this mobile pizza business. Columbus has at least a couple organizations that focus on food production. We are sure that the commitment we make to reducing the geographic footprint (a great phrase from the business plan) will be appreciated. To that end, we went quite a bit out of our way on a trip home from Bloomington.

Vogel Certified Organic Dairy is just a bit west of Franklin, IN on SR 44. It's a family run dairy, making many forms of pressed and fresh cheese, buttermilk, and other dairy items. They also raise pastured beef, pork and chicken, eggs, vegetables and fruit. They have a store on the farm open until 7pm every day. We picked up a chicken for tonight's dinner.

Roasted at 300° over a layer of sliced potatoes, garlic cloves and a little onion for 4 hours. Breast side down. Should be a good dinner.

I'm going to try to source a lot of ingredients from the Vogels. What they have is a bit advanced for a typical Old MacDonald Farm. But our brief time talking last night showed evidence of a family doing something they really enjoy and, as evidenced by the empty cheese shelves, they're really good at.

More on them soon. I promise.

Back for Twenty-twelve.

2011 was a tough year for knowing our farmers. We started with a 20cf freezer of beef, pork and chicken and we're down to about 20 pounds of "beef for boiling" and "Soup Bones". Near the end of the month, I'll head up to Bippus and we'll be restocked with piggy but it doesn't solve the problem.

We need to find some local farmers.

It's really that simple and it's really that important. By finding local farms with which to feed our family, we ensure the health of a human ecosystem, consumer, farmer, animal, plant, soil, Earth. We also enrich the community by making a better case for other farmers to make a business case for offering the same. It's not entirely altruistic, however. Food grown responsibly, with an eye on the consumer and the other on the health of the farm and neither on the cash (at the time of labor), tastes better and I'm not driving 3 hours just to get food. I would but it isn't happening.

So this year we'll make relationships with farms, farmers, pigs, cows, chickens, broccoli and carrots. We'll get to know the dogs and cats, husbands, wives, sons, daughters and hangers-on. We have to. It's our responsibility. No excuses.

At the same time, I need to find suppliers for The Flatrock Flatbread Company. We'll start with local meats and vegetables. Finding the right cheese supplier shouldn't be too hard. But the flour could be tricky.
As bread people know, flour is everything. Dough turned crust is the most expressive part of the pizza art. It's the color, taste and aroma of the oven. It's the foundation for topping delivery. It, by itself, is pizza. To be "authentic" pizza pros around the globe import Italian 00 flour and Italian tomatoes and cheese. I don't buy into that. Indiana tomatoes and cheeses are delightful. Grain grows all around me. I'm going to use it. It just may take time finding the right wheat blend and learning how to mill it perfectly, money to buy all the extra equipment, and patience to try again and again to get it perfect. But I'm certainly willing to try.

Summertime dinner

It's getting to the end of summer. School in these parts is in full swing. Columbus North defeated our neighbor, Columbus East, in the 41st installment of a cross-town football rivalry last night on ESPN. It seems like leaves could start falling any day. And our tomatoes still haven't ripened. We must have 10 little cherry tomatoes on the plants in the pots I started in Greenwood, but frequent (daily) watering and TLC hasn't given us a single taste. I did harvest one very small green pepper today in hopes that either the plant would put out some more flowers or give it up and let the tomatoes have more nutrients.

It's been a tough transition. You forget until about two weeks after a move just how much it costs to start living somewhere. We taxed our finances selling the house in Fort Wayne, maybe spending 15% of what we got for it just getting it to market. Then you have to take into account all the new deposits, waiting for the refunds and figuring out what (read: where) to eat when you haven't had time to go to a grocery. Add to that that when we moved into the apartment, we moved a whole lot of frozen food. We really saw how it disappears when it's easy to get to and now we're down to the last scraps from our big freezer and any canned goods that made the journey. Buying meat for the first time in five years is a big shock.

Anyway, we're at one of those junctures where we're stretching food dollars until we get some breathing room. But it helps inspire creativity. And so, tonight, we have a riff on a BLT.

Nothing special, except where it comes from.

Let's ignore the bread, cheese, processed cheese product, and mustard.

The highlights are the other bits. Under a pile of cheese sticks are slices from our solitary green pepper. It was small but strong. It is surrounded by "stolen tomatoes". Last weekend, when we were in Marysville, Duncan asked if we could pick tomatoes. They were behind my parents' garage and very fruitful. What could be wrong. He picked a couple and we took them in to Grandma. She says it's okay and gets us a container. This is when I find out that the tomatoes behind their garage belong to the neighbors. My parents lend them space in their yard that was once a failed garden. The neighbors tend it carefully and use my parents' water to produce some great tomatoes. But Duncan and I stole them. So we brought our exploits home with us. He'd like them even more if he knew they were stolen (AVM reference).

The bacon is from our 2010 share at Hawkins Family Farm. It is excellent Tamworth bacon, processed at W&W near Andrews, IN. The pickles I made last summer from our share of cucumbers at the farm. They're the instant dill sort. Not as authentic as a brined, kosher dill, but less moldy!

And there you have it. Something from several places we are connected to. I'm starting to think that "all local is relative."

Corn, ears of despair?

Deborah stopped by a market on 46, in the first retail strip most people see in Columbus, last week and got some corn. She took some photos of the boys eating it and I think I did too.

Looks like I only captured Duncan.

The thing about this market is that it carries local products (meat, vegetables, soap, honey etc.) and seems to have a low margin. Our 8 ears were $4. Plus they take credit cards, which makes it especially easy for we of our of town bank.

Its been a bad year for corn. Where it was planted early enough to avoid sticking equipment in mud, the rain prevented deep root growth, so it's been a year off flood and drought for corn. Corn grown here is small, a bit less sweet and in short supply. But that's okay, that's agriculture.

One thing turns that around for us. No matter the size or availability, our boys love corn and that earases despair.

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