Blog Archive

This summer I have been exposed to the field of food hubs in Vermont in several different ways. Such experiences include partaking in the daily activities of the Mad River Food Hub in Waitsfield, assisting the start up of a new Food Hub Manager Training Program and attending a meeting of the Vermont Regional Food Centers Collaborative. I have been introduced me to many different types of stakeholders, from traditional LLC, L3C, NGO to State agencies. I believe each type of organization has its own strengths and weaknesses, but their collaboration is what contributes the most to creating a community-based food system in Vermont. They each play a specific role and serve different purposes.

Through my internship, I have become most familiar with the L3C model that the Mad River Food Hub uses. According to the MRFH, “an L3C is a for-profit, social enterprise venture that has a stated goal of performing a socially beneficial purpose rather than maximizing income. It is a hybrid structure that combines the legal and tax flexibility of a traditional Limited Liability Corporation (LLC), the social benefits of a nonprofit organization, and the branding and market positioning advantages of a social enterprise.”

This model is advantageous for a variety of reasons:

1. The business can be run like a LLC. There is no board of directors (like in a traditional non-profit) so major decisions can be made more efficiently and timely by whoever is in charge.
2. For some, being a for-profit business helps the organization be taken seriously by others. While for-profits can sometimes have a “dirty” reputation for being more economically focused than socially or environmentally focused, they can also be more respected for having a business plan and strategy for economic development.
3. L3C’s also have a clear social mission. Despite being a for-profit, L3Cs still signal that they are mission-driven and are not intended to create a huge profit.
4. The L3C model is only available in certain states. This can be a useful marketing strategy; being an L3C is another way to show that the business is unique and will get people interested in the organization.

One of the biggest challenges for L3Cs is receiving grant funding. For-profit models do not traditionally receive grants, particularly government-awarded grants. However, this challenge can actually offer an opportunity for collaboration with others. In the case of the MRFH, the business partnered with community-based organizations to apply for grants. This allowed the food hub to access the capital it needed to launch the project, but also involved the community and created new alliances. Community support of the project has become of the MRFH’s greatest strengths.

L3Cs are a new business model that I think can be very successful in the growing local food system. As a hybrid of both non-profit and for-profit models, L3Cs can address both the social and values-driven aspect of the food system, as well as economic development.

Learn more about the MRFH here: www.madriverfoodhub.com

A lot can be learned from the model that NOFA-VT has adopted with regards to developing an economically viable and ecologically sound food system in the state. The secret to their success has been a full circle strategy.  At the heart of their operation lies their certification office, formally called Vermont Organic Farmers (VOF). The role of VOF is to certify farmers and processors and to provide a highly credible program for independent third-party verification of organic food production.

Within VOF lies the Technical Assistance office. This office provides support for certified farmers and helps advise farmers hoping to transition to organic practices. Through on-site visits and intensive workshops, the TA office helps farmers grow better crops, keep healthier animals, and improve their business practices. The TA office also supports the Journey Farmers Program and other apprenticeship programs. In this way, VOF not only certifies established farmers, but helps grow and support the next generation of organic farmers.

Once certified, organic farmers rely on market demand for their organic products to stay in business. NOFA-VT helps with this, too. NOFA-VT has been instrumental in supporting the development of farmers’ markets across the state, providing a place for not only organic farmers, but all vermont farmers, to showcase their products. NOFA-VT is also working to expand access to local and organic markets through their Farm Share program (offering partially subsidized shares for CSA programs) and through their support of EBT machines at markets across the state. Add to this a collection of outreach and education campaigns that help inform consumers about the benefits of buying organic and you’ve got the dynamic marketing model that has helped support organic farmers in Vermont since 1971.

I wanted to take the time to address both Chuck’s and Philip’s prompts, because as with all systems, everything is related.

In working with the Vermont Agency of Agriculture I have come to recognize the role consumer education plays in aiding how the consumer understands the health benefits and costs associated with locally produced food products. Many food hubs and Farm-to-School programs seek to educate younger consumers, hoping to change habits young and in an environment where the education may carry over into the household. Such education is essential to teaching students and the public the health, environmental and social benefits of leafy greens, squash, carrots and humanely raised meats. These benefits include increased vitamin and mineral consumption, increased fiber intake, reduced antibiotic and hormone consumption, however it also includes reduced run-off waste, reduced worker endangerment, and a higher quality of living for animals. Though, more frequently overlooked are the economic benefits garnered by the local farmers who are able to sell in these newly expanded local markets.

Through consumer education, the public is able to learn why a product costs so much, be it more labor for spinach cultivated on a smaller farm without mechanical harvesting or more expensive feed for organically raised livestock. Consumers expect low prices because they have been taught by food companies, through marketing, that food should be cheap. We are only two to three generations removed from smaller scale agriculture, when food prices were higher and we spent a greater portion of our income on food. Through reeducation efforts, the consumer can again learn to appreciate the cost of good food.

Assuming the consumer accepts this price difference, the farmers cultivating these crops can begin to make more money. Small-scale farmers and farm workers, particularly migrant workers, are among the most overworked and under-paid individuals in the state. By increasing their incomes through increased farm profits we can begin to tackle the problem of food access. Raising the incomes of local producers and farm workers will allow them to purchase the healthy food they produce,  at least in some degree.

Granted this idea assumes the consumer is willing to pay for a more expensive product, that farmers will choose to increase worker wages with increased income, and farm workers with increased wages will purchase healthy food, but it is important to have an idea of where we would like to shift our food system, and this is one possibility.

A question that I continually struggle with is whether or not it is possible to influence or change the way people eat. If our goal is to increase the amount of local foods people eat, we are asking people to shift their diets in a certain way. Not only does eating locally change where your food comes from, but also what you eat. For me, when I eat locally, I rarely eat meat because local meat is more expensive. This isn’t a difficult transition for me because I am happy to supplant my diet with more fresh vegetables. However, for others there is less flexibility in changing the way they eat, whether it is because of taste preferences or accessibility. Then the question becomes, should we change the way people eat and is it even possible to do so?

One of my biggest passions in life is sharing food; I love to be able to share something that is really meaningful to me with others, especially when I made it myself. I feel excited and gratified when I am able to share something I really enjoy and see others enjoying it as well. While it seems so simple to me, to cook and share food with others, I often take for granted the differences between my food preferences and other people’s. Recently I tried to prepare a vegetarian meal for my friend and he essentially refused to eat it; it wasn’t in a rude way, but he simply doesn’t eat vegetables and wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I tried not to take it personally and accept that he has a different diet than I do, but I was having a hard time letting go because I wanted to be able to share food with him (plus I think the food I make is pretty good).

When it boils down to it, everyone has a different relationship with food. Food can be emotional, or food can be a means of sustenance. It is easy for me to be very emotional about food, it is something I care deeply about and have a connection with. This is a common thread in many parts of the local foods movement, I believe this movement is largely driven by people’s passion and emotions for food; but this can also be an obstacle in trying to start a larger social movement or reach a greater audience. This food movement needs passion and excitement to lead it, but at the same time, it can come off as un-relatable and even exclusive to those who don’t have as strong of a relationship with food. For example, in discussions around local or sustainable foods, I feel that the underlying implications are often that everyone should eat and like healthy, fresh foods (ie fruits and vegetables). The thought process is something along the lines of, if you know something is good for you, you should eat it, and if you know something is bad for you, you shouldn’t eat it. Seems simple enough, but I know that I often take for granted that this idea doesn’t come naturally to all. What people eat essentially comes down to each individual’s values and preferences, but I think these are also indicative of the values or lack there of in our food culture.

So, should we change the way people think about food and what they are eating? I think the answer is both yes and no. If we look at the data on diabetes and obesity and kids, then the answer is an overwhelming yes. The facts on children’s health being negatively impacted by highly processed foods is alarming, and it is clear that something in the food system should change. But at the same time, do you have to eat fruits and vegetables in order to be considered a “good” person? Definitely not. This brings me to the idea of food sovereignty, the right for people to define their own food systems and basically control what they eat. I believe strongly that everyone has the right to make their own food choices, whether it is local healthy foods, or McDonalds.

The next question is, is it even possible to change the way people think about food? This one I’m not sure about, my hope is yes, but I feel like people don’t always go about it the right way. Things that don’t work: Trying to guilt trip people by saying things like,  “Do you know how bad that is for you?” or “Did you know that five puppies were killed so you could eat that hamburger?” (Ok obviously not as ridiculous as that, but I’m sure sometimes long winded environmental reasons for eating healthy foods can seem as obscure or ridiculous as that). If you don’t care about the food you’re eating, you’re probably not going to feel guilty about eating it either. “If you just try it, you’ll like it.” I used to think that my own passion of sharing food would influence others to care about food as well; if I could share with someone else how much I love food, maybe they would love it too. And that might work for one or two people, but I think caring about something requires a more internal force than me baking a pie and trying to force feed people. Lastly, “If fresh, healthy foods were cheaper and more accessible, more people would eat them.” This is true to an extent, but I think the absence of fresh foods in most people’s diet is more of a cultural or personal reason than financial.

I tried to reflect on my own food choices and why I care about what I eat. I usually try to carefully construct my plate with a variety of colorful vegetables, I follow the tastes I like, I prefer to eat foods that are good and healthy for me, and I like to feel responsible and conscious about what I put in my body, both health wise and for the greater food system. Basically, I genuinely care about food and how I eat it. So, how do we get people to care about food, and is it necessary for people to care about food to create widespread change in the local food system?

My biggest philosophy in eating food is everything in moderation, and I think that is one of the biggest ideas that has been lost in our modern food culture. I think bringing back the concept of moderation, rather than trying to tell people what they can or cannot eat, may be a more realistic and rational way of transitioning into a healthier food system. Eating McDonalds isn’t the end of the world, as long as you’re not eating it everyday. You don’t have to love vegetables, but try to eat them sometimes. I think engraining the idea of moderation into the way people eat can have a positive effect on people’s relationships to food and the food system. People won’t start eating local kohlrabi everyday, or suddenly start caring more about what they eat, but if we try to integrate local foods into people’s diets in moderation, then it is one step forward in increasing the amount of local foods consumed.

Like Katherine, I am finding it difficult to come up with any concrete answer to the questions Chuck Ross posed. As Secretary Ross made clear, the only answer to those questions may be a new economic system, though it is a challenge to dream up a new system when we are so entrenched within our old one.

Lately I have been wondering how the much the use of EBT at farmers’ markets has expanded access to local food.  From the outside it seems as though this might be an easy answer to Chuck Ross’ first question related to broadening the socio-economic range of people that engage in the local food system. However, after speaking with people in Louisville, the general consensus is that even with EBT benefits, farmers’ markets are still largely inaccessible for low-income families. In fact, during the 2009 season, out of $1,232 spent at the Victory Park Market, a farmers’ market in the underserved California neighborhood in Louisville, only $31.50 represented EBT sales (in other words, less than three per cent of the total sales).

If farmers’ markets remain inaccessible for low-income families even when they accept EBT, it seems as though we need to find a way to decrease farmers’ market prices even further if we intend to expand access to the local food system. Another thing I have been thinking about lately is how increasing sales at farmers’ markets among families or individuals that are not from low-income backgrounds might have a trickle-down effect with the potential to decrease farmers’ market prices, and consequently increase low-income families’ access to local food. Like Secretary Ross indicated, these issues are often a simple question of economics. I have yet to find any study that considers how farmers’ market prices have changed in the past couple of years as a result of increasing demand, but I think this would be interesting to look at. Perhaps this is even a way to bridge the divide between supporting local food systems and expanding food access–in this instance, supporting the local food system is actually the force that increases food access.

Regarding Chuck Ross’s question, I simply don’t know. I think that existing economic and social systems make discussions of food access difficult, because in our market system, the prices that would ensure food access for all members of our community would likely not sustain the farmers and producers bringing that food to our mouths. I was encouraged by Secretary Ross’s comment that we must think about how to create a new economic system, one which values both positive and negative externalities, in order to fairly compensate farmers for their work, though this seems to address only one side of a double edged sword. But until then, what shall we do?

I think, though, that strong communities will help us find solutions to this dilemma. At the UVM Revolution for Food Systems Conference, David Zuckerman discussed how his farm has come to a scale (through both his and others’ efforts and support) where he can afford to add an extra bunch of vegetables to the baskets of those in need. We heard in Louisville about a CSA program where individuals spend as they feel they can on shares, so that those with more are able to pay a little bit extra in order to help those with less to also eat good food. These relationships are built on personal connections. They are not systematically implemented, and it will require work to maintain these connections that have developed between people and people and food. Perhaps they are stepping stones towards a new food system that better accounts for externalities and value? Perhaps they are simply the efforts of good people doing good work. I’m simply not sure how we can expand small acts like David’s to the scale we need to reach.

The local food movement, too, has power in its diversity. There are so many ways we can engage with our food system, and we can and should each have the ability to decide how we would like to participate. We can purchase food in many places, we can produce it ourselves or connect with the producers we choose to support. The ways in which we make these choices are certainly not “free,” they are conditioned by our personal histories, backgrounds, circumstances, preferences. But perhaps by fostering the current co-evolving trajectories of food and community, we will be able to ensure food for all, in all places. Perhaps Vermont’s focused on “community-based” agriculture will help all be able to participate in the food system to the fullest degree that they wish.

This past week, we spent a day at a co-living community near Montpelier. There we met Lisa, a food-as-medicine specialist, who walked us through some basics of cooking and eating that were, for most of us, new: rather than prioritizing the relatively recent discoveries of proteins, fats, carbohydrates, vitamins, and minerals in food, this approach–based in much longer traditions–instructs eaters to form a diet based on close introspection of their body’s individual needs. This style of eating takes into account multiple heuristics: the taste profiles salty, sweet, bitter, sour, and spicy; seasonal characteristics of summer, late summer, fall, winter, and spring; and the “warming” or “cooling” properties of foods, herbs, and spices (for example, thyme is warming while tarragon is cooling–use them together for a balanced dish, or focus on one based on your body’s needs). We were given a many-page pamphlet filled with the qualities of various fruits, vegetables, and grains, which also sung the praises of soaking grains, fermenting foods, and minimizing consumption of animal products.

Overall, it started to feel kind of complicated.

But then maybe it isn’t. In talking with a friend afterward, it became clear that eating the way that Lisa described is not just simple but even compulsory if you are eating a (mainly) local and seasonal diet. Making buying decisions based on what is available seasonally thus helps us to (re-)align ourselves with some very ancient dietary traditions. And I realized: the kind of eating that Lisa was condoning only seems complicated when we are immersed in a food culture based on infinite decisions. Were I to go to a chain grocery, it would be stressful, to remember that cumin is warming while coriander is cooling. If I go to the local farmer’s market, however, those decisions become much more straightforward: the bitter greens available in the early summer are precisely what we should be eating at that time. The local diet, then, can help us better listen to our own bodies.

I know that not everyone has the fortune to be able to make their buying decisions at the farmer’s market, and–in keeping with Chuck Ross’ actual prompt for this week–I by no means intend to overlook the complexity of the system that allows some people that privilege while denying it of others (though I will happily quote his recommendation that “what we need is a new economic system”). However, it is reassuring to see that eating locally, instead of complicating questions of access, equity, fairness, and so on, for once simplifies something: our awareness of our own needs.

One interesting wedge that comes to mind in the context of Louisville is Heine Brothers’ Coffee, a local coffee “chain” that brews 100 per cent fair trade coffee. Beyond its use of fair trade coffee, Heine Brothers’ has also engaged in advocacy efforts that promote composting and local farming in addition to helping found Cooperative Coffees, a fair-trade coffee buying cooperative. Though I would say Heine Brothers’ mission primarily focuses upon assisting coffee farmers living abroad, their work with Breaking New Grounds and 15Thousand Farmers, both domestic organizations furthering causes in Louisville, proves that they have found ways to positively affect the local economy as well.

From the time I have spent in Louisville I would say that Heine Brothers’ is both a largely successful business and a largely successful wedge in the system. Heine Brothers’ boasts 14 locations across the city and it seems that most Louisvillians love their coffee. Heine Brothers’ is a household name. Obviously Heine Brothers’ caters to a certain type of co-producer (I do not believe they have a location in West Louisville), but at the same time I think their active promotion of certain causes sets them apart from Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts. I have often wondered how Heine Brothers’ became so successful when pitted against these two well-established giants. In being a successful wedge, Heine Brothers’ capitalized upon Louisvillians desire for great coffee and simultaneously managed to champion some good causes.

Beyond buying Heine Brothers’ coffee, I think Louisvillians can act as co-producers by increasing awareness of the social issues the business is trying to tackle. If community members that love Heine Brothers’ know that the business supports 15Thousand Farmers, perhaps they will be more inclined to take up farming themselves, or at least support farmers’ markets. As co-producers it is our responsibility to get the word out about the positive work the businesses we support are doing in an effort to encourage other people to begin promoting and engaging with these causes as well. I think being a co-producer also entails being a co-promoter.