Oregon's "Real Food" Revolutionaries

When an editor asks if I'll write a story for his magazine and then says it can be on any topic I choose, well, that's an offer I can't refuse. Here's my story for this month's issue of Willamette Living titled "Oregon's 'Real Food' Revolutionaries (Just Don't Call Them Foodies)."

Rarely a week goes by when someone in the national media, whether it's the New York Times, CNN, even The Tonight Show's Jimmy Fallon, mentions the amazing food to be found in Portland, Oregon. Chefs, restaurants, doughnut shops, vegan delis, food carts, gluten-free bakeries and the growth of what's being called a "food culture" have found fertile soil in the Northwest corner of Oregon. Just a decade ago it would have been an oxymoron to put the words "Portland" and "food scene" in the same sentence. No longer.

Eamon Molloy (l), Hillsdale Farmers' Market manager.

But what's been missed by the national spotlight and gushing reviews is the true food revolution that's been building in the Northwest, one that will outlast the tourists and the hype. It's one waged by grassroots folks who would laugh at being called "foodies" but who are leading the way in changing the foundation of our local food system from one dependent on big box stores, national chains and agricultural conglomerates to one that is developing pathways for the small farmer and artisan producer to make a connection with the consumer, one that focuses on accessible, sustainable and affordable local food.

Read about five of these “real food” revolutionaries talking about why they do what they do and what they hope to accomplish.

Top photo: Kendra Kimbirauskas of Goat Mountain Pastured Meats in Scio.

The Prosciutto Project: Hurry Up and Wait

"Good things come to those who wait."

This old proverb extolling the virtues of patience has been appropriated by advertising agencies—Heinz ketchup and Guinness come to mind—and generations of moms with squirmy kids. (The moms, of course, potently implying that its opposite is also true.)

Katherine meeting her meat.

I'm embarking on a project with Katherine Miller, editor of the Oregonian's FoodDay section, which will test my patience to the limit. That is, we're making prosciutto, the Italian style of dry-curing a whole leg of pork.

The process of dry-curing, I've come to realize, is not like making bacon, which cures for a week in the fridge and is then smoked for a few hours, whereupon it is completely edible. Nor is it like pancetta, which requires a week of curing and is hung in a cool, dark place for a couple of weeks before you can indulge.

Kendra and Ivan of Goat Mountain Pastured Meats.

No, prosciutto is a much, much more protracted process, curing in salt for at least twelve days and hanging to dry-cure for up to a year. Yes, a year. Twelve months. Three hundred sixty five days—you catch my drift. No wonder wannabe charcutiers get wigged out just thinking about it. That's a long time to find out that you've just invested considerable time and money into what has become a big pile of moldy, not to mention potentially lethal, protein.

Eric of Mt. Angel Meat cradling our prosciutto-to-be.

But hey, I thought it would make a good story, not to mention a tasty experiment, so I convinced Katherine we should do it together. Plus I think it helped that she got to meet a couple of my favorite meat farmers, Kendra Kimbirauskas and her husband, Ivan Maluski, of Goat Mountain Pastured Meats in Colton, and canoodle with their placid porkers.

We picked up the 25-lb. leg this morning from Eric at Mt. Angel Meat Co., a USDA-certified meat processor, salted it down, wrapped it in plastic and set it under weights in Katherine's fridge. I'll be able to tell you how it went in a year or so!

Supermarket Pork: Not Cheap at Any Price

In the second installment of my interview for Food Farmer Earth, Kendra Kimbirauskas of Goat Mountain Pastured Meats explains the costs that we all pay, in our health, in damage to the environment, in our tax dollars subsidizing big corporations, for conventionally raised pork.

What is it really costing us to feed our families, and which would you rather put on your table?

Watch Part One: A Passion for Pigs.

Food Farmer Earth: A Passion for Pigs

It's no secret that I love the farmers, food producers and chefs of the Northwest. So when Rebecca and Fred Gerendasy of Cooking Up a Story asked me if I'd be interested in working with them on their new series called Food Farmer Earth they barely had time to finish making the offer before I said, "I'm in!" This interview with passionate pastured meat rancher Kendra Kimbirauskas is the first of the stories I worked on in the capacity of producer, and the first of many you'll be seeing on GoodStuffNW.

Kendra Kimbirauskas (left, with her "bacon maker" LV) grew up on a small farm in the Midwest watching her parents working long hours to make ends meet. With an intimate knowledge of the day-to-day struggles farmers face, after college she became an activist on the issues affecting small farms, working on factory farm issues in Iowa.

Baby pigs napping in their pasture.

While there, she also spent time at Niman Ranch, working with a co-op that supplies pork to Chipotle restaurants. The experience of raising pigs outdoors on pasture resonated with her and in 2006 she decided that it was time to "walk her talk." Putting her beliefs into action, she and her husband, Ivan Maluski, started a small, organic farm on a few acres in Colton, Oregon.

Gretel and her brood.

At Goat Mountain Pastured Meats they raise goats, whose milk Ivan uses to make cheese, along with chickens, horses, pigs and two rescued oxen. They are committed to farming in a way that provides high quality, healthy and affordable organic food while protecting the biodiversity of the land and its water. 

Read the rest of Kendra's story and consider subscribing to future Food Farmer Earth posts! Also, Kendra explains what it really costs to raise pork conventionally in Supermarket Pork: Not Cheap at Any Price.