Every Steak has a Story

May is National Beef Month. I don’t know who decides these months or why, but I’m glad we have a whole month devoted to a protein that I love to eat and raise. I have been mulling on the idea for this post for a while and figured May would be a great time to put my thoughts on paper, or technically, computer screen.

I love to do farm tours. We take a group of ladies on our annual Moms on the Farm Tour here in Northwest Arkansas, but we also do tours with students and other groups. A few years ago, I had some friends from Dallas come to town and ask me for something fun to do with their kids and I said, “Want to go see a dairy?” And we did. We toured a local dairy and had a great time!

On these tours, everyone loves to hear the farm story; how long the farm has been in operation, how many generations of this family have operated the farm, what crops have been raised there over the years. We love to see those farm stories in the grocery store, too. Several food companies do a great job of sharing the stories of their farmers with their consumers. People love to go to the farmers market or see ‘locally grown’ on the food they buy. I think it’s great that so many consumers want to know about their food and the farmers that produce it.

But, here is what I think people are missing… every steak has a story.

There are about ¾ of a million beef farms and ranches in the US, and over 91% are family owned or individually operated. The average size of a cow herd is 40 cows.

That means that most of the beef bought in the US came from a farmer with a story, just like the one you would hear from our ranch. The calves from our ranch aren’t sold at the farmers market or to a special store with our name on it. They go from our place to a backgrounder (like the Peterson Farm Brothers) or a feedlot operation (like the Feedyard Foodie). I’ve written a post about the segments of the beef industry. Then they will be harvested in a commercial facility and processed into beef that may go to a fancy restaurant or a small grocery store.

Cows on snow on the plains, on green grass here in
Northwest Arkansas, or in the arid mountains in New Mexico.
They all raise beef.

When you buy a steak at the store or order one in a restaurant, it could have come from a farm in Florida or a ranch in Montana. We visited a farm in Hawaii where the cows ate Noni fruit and lived within view of the Pacific Ocean. That’s the great thing about beef. Cows can live in very diverse climates and under lots of different conditions, but they all produce beef.

If you are interested in hearing more stories about farmers who raise beef and others in the beef industry, check out these blogs:

Tales of a Kansas Farm Mom

Cows Kids and Grass

Faith, Family, and Beef

Bovidiva

Beef Runner

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The Underdog

I love Texas Country music (some folks call it Red Dirt music). I’ve loved it since I was in college; Musicians like Pat Green, Robert Earl Keen, Cross Canadian Ragweed, and the Randy Rogers Band have always filled my cd case and iTunes.

I really like Aaron Watson. He lives in Abilene, TX, which is about 45 minutes from where I grew up. He’s a Christian and a family man. Listening to his music is like a trip home. His latest album recently topped the Country music charts, but he gets virtually no play time on country radio (not that I listen to country radio, anyway). The irony of that fact is compounded in the name of the album, the Underdog. 

After I downloaded it, my productivity dropped because  I was dancing and beating my hands on my desk. :)

Several of my blogging buddies have decided to write a group blog with the Underdog theme. Honestly, as much as I love Aaron Watson, I wasn’t sure I was going to participate. I didn’t know how I would tie this theme into my blog about meat and the meat industry.

Then, this morning I was listening to National Public Radio (see, not country). A young woman who was having a hard time financially was being asked about her health. She was convinced that her health was failing because she could not afford to buy food at the farmers market.  It hit me.

She was my underdog.

I don’t know her story, and I doubt she’s heard of me, but I write my blog for all the underdogs like her.

Families all over this country are told that expensive, Organic, Natural foods are better and healthier for them.  When they can’t afford them, imagine the guilt they must feel when they buy and feed their families conventionally-raised foods without the fancy, Organic, grass-fed, or Natural labels.

Even if what I write helps just a few of these folks feel better about what they feed their families, then I’m happy and it’s been worth it.

• I want to assure the young, single moms working for minimum wage that processed meats are a great way to get kids to eat protein when that’s all the protein they can afford.
• I want the busy, soccer mom to know its ok to run through the drive through between soccer practice and music lessons. The food will be safe.
• I want the label-reading-obsessed dad know what nitrites are, why they are used, and that they are safe and helpful.
• I want the concerned grandma to know that all meat is free of antibiotics regardless of what’s on the label.
• I want the mom with the newborn to know that no pork and poultry is raised with steroid hormones, and she can enjoy it worry-free.
• I want everyone to understand the importance of food safety and meat thermometers.

Unfortunately, we live in a society full of judging and Mom guilt. Feeling guilty and judged sure makes you feel like an Underdog. When they can’t afford the food that everyone says they should feed their kids, or they’re too busy to get it prepared, or they just don’t understand all the hype, I hope my blog helps them to feel a little more confident about the decisions they make to feed their families.

I've always been one to root for the Underdog.



Other Underdog posts:

Dirt Road Charm

Dairy Carrie

Heim Dairy

Rural Gone Urban

Farming America

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Paying it forward

I was traveling last week and a wonderful thing happened. I saw a young mother on the plane, traveling alone with her 4-month old son. We got off the plane together, and her arms were overfilled. I asked what I could do to help. All she needed was someone to open her stroller and put the baby seat in it. Anyone could have done it, but I got to. I was so excited, I almost cried. Seriously.

I asked if she needed help getting to her next gate, and she said she had a long layover and would be fine. I told her again how cute her baby was and headed on out to the terminal. I was smiling ear to ear.

Why was I so excited to help her? I was finally getting to pay it forward.

When Vallie was little, I flew by myself with her several times. I had long delays and cancelled flights, but every time there was some stranger to help me (usually a mom, but sometimes a dad). They helped open strollers or held something for me. One lady even carried my diaper bag through the airport and made sure I got to my plane. One offered me her seat on the plane when my ticket was for the wrong flight. People were always so good to me and I finally got to pay it forward. I was so happy.

I was thinking about that today, and I realized that that’s why I blog. To pay it forward.

Outside of helping me in the airport, other people (lots of them, moms) have been helping me for years. Watching my kids, giving us hand-me-downs, giving me advice. Not expecting a thing in return. Most of the time, I couldn’t give them anything, except a smile and a thank you.

But with my blog, my hope is that I help other moms (and dads too). Give them information about something that I know, that they may not know. Help them feel better about the food they feed their families. Answer the questions they have.

I hope my blog is also good for farmers and the food industry as a whole, but I write it for the moms.

I will be celebrating the sixth anniversary of my induction into motherhood soon and it has been a crazy whirlwind of a time. I’ve spent hours and hours thinking and worrying about what I do for my girls and the choices I make.

If my posts help just one other mom ease her worry, then, it’s all been worth it.

 

Me and my girls on Easter Sunday.

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