The Power of Food: Building a Sense of Community

This time of year is always a time of immense satisfaction to me. I feel wealthy, decadent, spoiled, as I eat meal after meal after meal of meats, cheeses, fruits, and vegetables that come directly from my own farm and from the work of my hands. My husband and I love to eat well. We love the idea of slow food and of taking the time to enjoy each bite. Yes, food is for sustenance, but when you look at what food does for us as people, it is so much more.

Food builds community. Think about the times you have spent hanging out with friends around a dining table, connecting with your children or parents each day or eating a romantic dinner with your favorite person. Food helps us to slow down, to talk, to laugh, and to see each other where we are at. Growing up, our family put a lot of importance on our meals at the table. Books needed to be set aside and we were taught to give each other intentional attention, using our listening to see each other and love each other over delicious and filling food. These times fill more than our stomachs. They fill our hearts and our minds as well.

But food builds community in even deeper ways. When we step outside our homes, we move from our small units to our larger spheres of life. We interact with people who are different from us. We learn grow and see the beauty of diversity around us. Food can transport us to an awareness and love for other cultures. Think about the times you’ve sat down at a Mexican, Indian, Puerto Rican restaurant. As you eat the foods prepared for you, you are being given a gift of seeing a culture through its taste buds. When I think of food as sharing cultures, I think of my friend, Michiyo, who when she visits from Japan, loves to cook large beautiful meals for my family. She makes tempura, rice, curry and shares the seasonings..spices…snacks…and sauces with us. As we eat her lovingly made meal, she eats chicken corn noodle soup, Italian Hoagies, and scrapple. The beauty of sharing food, culture and ourselves with one another.

As a farmer, my attachment for food goes beyond my own family and into my community. I love to hear of meals prepared by my customers for their families whether for holidays, daily meals, or for a special friend. I love knowing that the food I labor to provide to my community is creating these pockets of relationship, these connections between people. Food is a beautiful thing. Farming is a beautiful thing. And I am lucky to be a part of it.

Creating a Spot of Heaven in the Midst of a Pandemic

I am going to start by saying, that our spot of heaven, on the farm is mostly due to the hard work and ingenuity of my parents. Their eye of beauty is impeccable and they have, over the past month, transformed our little chicken house into the most comfortable, adorable little haven for our chickens, our kittens, our cow, Cora, and our puppy, Willow to interact and live in. Sometimes true beauty comes from…not perfection, but the little touches that make a space comfortable.

But first, we are going to go back to the past. When I was in middle school, I took a few years off from “normal” education and spent my time being homeschooled on the farm and raising animals in this little barn we call the Black Shed. I spent hours, holding chickens, training them to sit on my shoulders, reading aloud to sheep (I am not…exaggerating) and cuddling with turkeys. This was my space. My home. And I learned so much from each and every one of my animals. It is a time I remember with a lot of fondness. And is in no small way a part of the reason I am a farmer today.

So fast forward to now and the past few months of pandemic. We decided…maybe slightly impulsively, to buy a milk cow. We had the extra time and why not learn something new. And so, we bought Cora from a nice little Amish farm in Lancaster County and brought her home. The first time we milked her….took two hours. The second 45 minutes. Our arms ached. Our legs hurt. But there was something…so therapeutic about milking a cow in the times of a pandemic. A week in, we cut the time to 30 minutes and the minutes kept being shaved slowly, slowly away.

To say Cora mooed her way into our hearts, would be an understatement. From the 2 hour milking in the beginning to now, she has always been the most patient, gentle cow. We thank her for her milk. She gets extra scratches and sweets. And she gets hugs.

So, I have a therapy cow…that has helped me in this pandemic. And we created a warm little niche, a little barn that feels almost magical in its separation from the world. I can go there to cuddle kittens or collect eggs with the deep yellow yolks of pastured-raised chickens. I can milk my cow and watch as my puppy begs for just a little lick of the milk. I can feel the soft hay beneath my feet and listen to my chickens contentedly cluck cluck as they eat their grain. And there really isn’t much more I need in the world…

So in all the stress…in all the weird…in all the unusual…take some time to make yourself a space that is magical. That accepts you as you are, whether happy, sad, angry, or tired. Find a place that gives you joy and hold onto it. Because these moments are beautiful and priceless and need to be treasured.