distilled knowledge

thirty years of farming, in several countries, and a couple continents, results in nothing less than premium, distilled knowledge.  factoids and insights have evolved drip by drip over the decades into a mighty river of knowledge.  in this video Ronald Donkervoort, farmer and owner of Windmill Farm, is comically describing the potentially unfunny life of a farmer who doesn’t own, but leases, the land that he farms.

a couple weeks ago I described my conversation with puerto rican cheflebrity wilo benet, whose casual conversation was filled with distilled knowledge and hard-earned lessons as well.  when these proven veterans speak off the cusp their words land on the shores of my ears like mighty bombs of wisdom—resonating through the folds of my brain like a rippling quake.  finding a brain nook, settling into permanent formation, and inspiring the ever flowing, ever cycling, ever changing thought processes of a young farmer clearing his way through the foggy brush. 

Ronald is a small scale, diversified vegetable farmer who retails all of his products at four weekly farmer’s markets.  one of the more insightful moments of the conversation—of which their were plenty—was ronald’s stance on the increasing popularity of csa’s (community supported agriculture).  his observation was a cultural one.  in Europe, where csa’s were first created, social gatherings, daily man time at the café, or lady time in the park, home cooked meals enjoyed slowly amongst friends, or countless other human to human interactions are ingrained into their daily lives.  for them, a csa makes good, convenient sense.

in the states, however, these social institutions seem to have all but disappeared.  I’ll take my former self as an example.  this time last year, in the cold dark heart of a winter on wall street, an average day would play out as such:  wake up, walk to the subway in the dark, stand in front of a computer screen for eight hours (lunch at my desk), go home in the dark, squeeze in a workout, cook dinner, and go to sleep.  not even a single ray of sunshine.  a single blade of grass. 

for us yanks, according to Ronald, the activity of heading to the farmer’s markets, engaging with your community, meeting your farmer, and enjoying the process—these are things which must be preserved and encouraged.  these are the things that make us humans.

support your local market.  support your local farmers.  check the resources on the sidebar (top right) to find the closest market near you, wherever you live.  

and of course, please excuse the schmutz on the camera lense.  farm camera, ya heard?