Certification Time

This past Tuesday, a customer read our sign “we use no synthetic chemicals in our soil or on our plants” and asked me to explain.  I stuttered for a minute because I thought Todd and I had finally figured out a succinct way of saying we are organic without saying we are organic.  I thought we finally figured out the most perfect simple credo by defining the most basic aspect of organic:  No synthetic chemicals. 
Yet this customer reads our credo and is still confused.  “This stuff isn’t grown organically, right?”
I say “Yes, in fact it is.  That is what the sign means.” 
Under the hot sun on the hard black pavement I think enough is enough.

It’s time.  It’s almost been three years.  I’ve decided to prioritize the organic certification paperwork.  Over and above grant writing, over and above any other paperwork.  So that we can roll that word around in our mouths slowly, loudly, with a gentle pause between each of the three mighty syllables.

College Days

When I was a student in college, I belonged to the Pi Beta Phi.
I (Julia) also became a vegetarian.
After reading Food First and Diet for a Small Planet I considered myself an expert on the subject of international food aid and the truth behind the factory farm. I remember debating Republican fraternity brothers with abortion metaphors and long speeches usually ending in the image of a calf too weak to stand drinking its own urine.
And in the dormitory, exasperatedly turning off faucets for girls while they brushed their teeth so that they didn’t waste water.  I mean did they really know what was in the cafeteria’s meatloaf tonight?  Really?  Because if they think it didn’t come with the desperate cry of a pained and exploited mammal, they should think again.
I regret my piety in those days.  I regret not eating my mom’s green jello salad (horse’s hooves) that she made for me special on Thanksgiving.
Those days were the first in which I began to question our world’s agriculture and food systems.  There were and are no shortage of concerns, but not necessarily one side against the other.
I am still technically a Pi Beta Phi.  I am no longer a vegetarian.
-Julia


“The Dignity of Agriculture”
I used the above phrase in a previous posting, something about how Todd and I are single-handedly reclaiming the dignity of agriculture.  So I thought I’d take a sentence or two today to clarify that ambitious declaration and backpedal once: I will just say that there is little dignity in our country’s quantity over quality food system.  Reinforcing that thin thread of connection between farmer and consumer would definitely help foster more respect for food.
Let’s examine some other concerns on a couple trips to the market.  I’ll just change my cardigan and my sneakers and let’s go!
The Dignity of Agriculture:  Wicker Park
Here is an indisputable opposite of dignity:
Without much detail, just imagine what happens to the person inside when a portapotty gets tipped over. For the sake of secrecy and gossip, I will tell you that this ridiculously undignified incident did indeed occur about a year ago to an innocent bare-sleeved and masculine market vendor at the Wicker Park Fest (not Todd).      Holy Moly!
The unique and challenging issue at the Wicker Park market is that all the customers mistakenly assume that all the vendors are organic.
Why does organic agriculture have more dignity or does it?
The righteousness of growing without synthetic chemicals (aka organic farming) comes from the fact that many synthetic chemicals for agricultural use represent questionable ethics.  Pesticides are toxic.   Companies who make and sell pesticides and other agriculture chemicals do not prioritize their customers’ best interest, especially when it comes to anyone’s health, bodily or financially.  Learning to work instead with compost and green manure honors the soil and the small farmer (who can create both on the farm) and inevitably the consumer.
There is another type of farming with a certain amount of dignity, at the very least in the opinions of those that do it.  This is IPM farming, or “Integrative Pest Management” farming. Synthetic chemicals are used in IPM but with regulation and conservatively.  It is widely practiced by fruit vendors at the Green City Market, for example.  They could speak more on the subject.  Or you might ask Nichols Farm or Seedling, whose smoothies I cannot resist.
The Dignity of Agriculture:  Lincoln Square
The unique and challenging issue at Lincoln Square is that all the customers mistakenly think that all vegetable vendors can speak with direct experience about their crops.  
As a longtime customer, I feel that the core of the farmers market experience is the chance to interact with food that was grown only a few miles away, knowing you are supporting your local economy and gaining a better appreciation of the produce itself. 
“Why are the tomatoes slow this year?”
“When will you have spinach again?”
“How do you store salad mixes?”
“How did you wash the leaves?”
“How should I wash them?”
“When did you dig these potatoes?”
“Do you use pesticides on your farm?”
“How do you feed your soil?”
“Yup, looks like rain.  We sure do need it.
This type of conversation returns customers to the stands every week.


We think if a vendor is bringing other farms’ vegetables to market, then that vendor should be honest about their role in production and should know the answers to questions regarding chemical use.
For example, if a vendor buys tomatoes wholesale from Florida, then their customers have a right to know that.   Peeling those labels off is… not very dignified… and not very honest.
In our case, we are now working with another farm and will be bringing Deer Creek organic beets and other root veggies to the market from time to time.  Todd has been to the farm, met and talked with the farmer, and we will label their stuff accordingly.