Many of us are now living in isolation, and our daily life stories remain separate and individual. We share few common experiences in real time; instead most are perceived through the lens of the past or the future. Yet there is another side to this picture. While some are “sheltering in place,” others are struggling to maintain businesses that make it possible for us to remain safely at home. For many of us, time is unspooling slowly; our calendars have been wiped clean. And then there are the food producers and distributers, who are living in a hyper-intensive world of rapidly shifting and unpredictable realities. Their schedules are crammed with completely unanticipated new responsibilities.
I am a newbie to the world of food, having had the outrageous luck of my first cookbook being published by a well-respected small press. My career path had been firmly centered in the nonprofit lane, first as the executive director of the Armory Center for the Arts in Pasadena, California, later on the funding side as a program officer with philanthropic foundations, and finally as a planning consultant to nonprofit leaders. This experience has given me some insight into the characteristics of resilient nonprofits. And lo and behold, these apply to food production and distribution as well.
With the exception of healthcare, no other sector is now situated on a more crucial testing ground for sustainability. Food purveyors that are hanging in there are doing so thanks to inherent structural or circumstantial advantages. Some are small and nimble, while others are culturally flexible enough to pivot. Most are used to being responsive to their community, in part because their hand is permanently on its pulse.
So, for today, three individuals whose stories are about more than survival; they represent inspirational, creative, and workable responses to the unimaginable.
Maegen Rzasa-Cleary, Manager, The Hollywood Farmers’ Market
Beautiful produce from the Hollywood Farmers’ Market in situ and at home. Photos and ceramics by Ann Elliott Cutting.
The Hollywood Farmers’ Market is one of the largest in Los Angeles County and is part of SEE-LA (Sustainable Economic Enterprises of Los Angeles), a nonprofit that has under its wing six markets located for the most part on the south- and central-side of L.A. County. I must admit that I was surprised to read that the markets were open for business, as my local farmers’ market in Altadena has shifted completely to pre-order and curbside pick-up. Maegen Rzasa-Cleary, the Hollywood Farmers’ Market manager, gave me plenty of clear-eyed rationales for staying open. Let’s start with the question of safety, as this is top of mind for all of us. The market is outdoors, rather than indoors. Check. The produce comes directly from farmer to market, rather than being part of a complex chain of distribution that includes long-haul truckers (who are suffering in their own ways) and multiple opportunities for contact, be it packers, store clerks, or handsy customers. Check. The market has restructured its entire design, temporarily removing all prepared food to allow for ten feet between each vendor stall. Check. The market has only one entrance and several exits and more importantly, allows only 250 people at a time in its approximately three-quarter square mile area. Check, check, check. A cadre of volunteers act as gentle disrupters to maintain the required six-plus feet of social distancing and mask wearing. Check. And the produce is handled only by its vendors, who are required to wear gloves and must not cross-contaminate between produce and cash. Check again.
Maegen at the Hollywood Farmers’ Market monitoring an exit at Selma and Cahuenga Avenues.
In my mind, however, there are many reasons beyond the timely issue of safety to support our farmers’ markets. Please excuse me as I go on a “did you know” tear for a moment. The Hollywood Farmers’ Market is home to over 100 vendors, half of whom are small farm owners who are themselves the faces you see at the market.
“If you compare a grocery store to a farmers’ market, you might ask yourself, who am I supporting?” says Maegen.
“Closing down farmers' markets but leaving the grocery stores open was shocking to me. You're ok with having truckloads of produce from large scale farms shipped all over the country, with multiple contact points, but you're not ok with produce being driven directly from the farm to an outdoor location?
It feels like a dialogue about small farmers and big agriculture with little hesitation to close down the small farmer whose livelihood, for the most part, comes from a farmers' market. Farmers' markets are not a flea market or a carnival, we're not just for the elite. We are a vital food source for everyone.”
Indeed, farmers’ markets address global as well as local concerns. Smaller family farms make up the majority of farms throughout the world and are the greatest contributors to food production and crop diversity, contrary to the assumption that large-scale, industrial agriculture is the solution to feeding the world’s growing populations. Lower energy consumption is one advantage of local farming and distribution. Transportation accounts for approximately 14 percent of the total energy used in the U.S. food system. Our farmers’ markets are a distinct exception, as they farm and sell within a relatively small geographic area. Their local purview has, in fact, enabled them to be quite nimble in managing life during the coronavirus pandemic. They sell their produce at farm stands and farmers’ markets, and through CSA boxes, pre-ordering, and curbside sales. Despite the Hollywood Farmers’ Market reduction of customers from an average of 7,000 to about 2,500 per Sunday, nearly all the farmers have remained, and sales are generally at two-thirds of pre-coronavirus levels.
Farmers’ markets have long been critical players in alleviating food insecurity. In our area, they are located in a diverse range of high- to very low-income communities. SEE-LA and all other local farmers’ markets not only accept SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, the current name for food stamps) but provide matching support through a variety of government programs and private contributions as incentives to select healthy produce. At one SEE-LA market—Central Avenue—nearly 50 percent of transactions are with SNAP clients. SEE-LA has stepped up its fundraising as the number of food insecure residents has increased dramatically due to the economic fallout of shelter-in-place regulations. In a single month, they were able to donate 20,000 produce boxes. They have also tripled their SNAP matching benefits up to $30 weekly and are matching WIC support (Women, Infant, Children supplemental nutrition) at two South L.A. markets.
Despite the good will and positive impact of these resources, L.A. Mayor Eric Garcetti temporarily closed farmers’ markets on March 30 after photos of what appeared to be a crowded market surfaced on social media. Following a review and approval of a Covid-19 operational plan, most re-opened within days. The quick turnaround was due in part to the unimpeachable case that these markets represent essential services, services that Maegen considers the heart of their mission. “During this time, it is really, really interesting to see where our values as a society lie—defining how we prioritize different facets of life, deciding what is considered important and crucial and how we function as humans in community. It is our responsibility to get food to people. To me that feels really basic and simple.” Maegen continues,
“The coronavirus cannot stop crops from growing. They need to be harvested. We are one of the main ways that small farmers maintain their financial health and help to stabilize our food supply.”
Leah Ferrazani, Owner, Semolina Artisanal Pasta
Left: September 2019, at Semolina Artisanal Pasta. Leah Ferrazani preparing for a panel about food with Mary Aghoian, Amelia McDonald, Elisa Callow, Masako Yatabe Thomsen, and Leslie Ito. Right: Store signage post Covid 19.
Leah owns a small-scale pasta-making business located on Lincoln Avenue in Northwest Pasadena. In 2014, she began making dried pasta, at first in her home laundry room, then in a Lincoln Heights prep kitchen, and soon after in a small retail storefront complete with a glass-walled “factory.” Pre-coronavirus, Leah and her one employee produced slightly more than one thousand pounds of dried pasta each week, at times running out as demand remained high.
She is a meticulous person, sourcing high quality durum semolina from U.S. farmers and using brass dies, which create a sauce hugging texture, to extrude her pasta. She slow-dries each batch at low heat to preserve flavor. Once you get a sense of how much goes into any food making process, the difference in taste and texture begins to make sense!
Leah is also a thoughtful businesswoman. Having worked front-of-house in restaurants, she understands the nail-biting rigors of running a business based on quixotic customer satisfaction and high built-in costs. She purposely focused on a product for a number of markets, investing in wholesale distributors who could get her product to high-end supermarkets and specialty shops as well as building on her connections with chefs at restaurants and her shop’s retail customers.
Leah’s instincts for diversification, quality, and “right size” have more than paid off. Social distancing restrictions forced her to close her retail business (with the exception of infrequent online orders), and her restaurant sales went from 30 percent to negligible due to closures in that industry. Instead, she and her employee are now working daily to produce 1,700 pounds of dried pasta each week for an expanding wholesale market.
“When you have something that is not perishable, it makes a huge difference. People are cooking a lot more, and pasta is something they know, so they are comfortable with it. It is friendly across the spectrum of eaters and it is economical.” The niche for high quality pasta has opened wide since Italy’s own production has slowed to a trickle. The holy grail for all food producers in this country--shelf space--is suddenly wide open for small, boutique brands. “I think a lot of people are trying my pasta for the first time, because even though I can’t keep the shelves stocked, frequently my pasta is the only one available.”
Leah’s resiliency as a small businesswoman is perhaps no surprise.
“We all have our vulnerabilities. In my case, if either my pasta dryer or extruder break, my production stops completely. But because my business is smaller and more agile, it’s easier for me to adapt my business model to keep myself and my team safe. For me a bigger challenge is trying to figure out how to scale up in a way that’s sustainable. There is an important role for my size business now in feeding our community, and for demonstrating the benefits of a more localized supply chain.”
José Reyes, Farmer, Cortez Family Farms
Left: José Reyes, farmer. Right: José at a farmer’s market.
Twenty years ago, José’s soon to be father-in-law invited him to work on his farm. José was in construction then and felt more than capable of hard work. After a day in the fields with a picker, José was ready to quit, but his pride and work ethic stopped him. “I am one of those guys, if you tell me I can’t do something, I will do the opposite. That’s the story of my life. I run toward challenges.” Following his father-in-law’s retirement, José is now running the farm—a more than formidable challenge, even for someone with José’s moxie.
On his twenty-acre farm, José grows celery, carrots, radishes, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries—food for people, not feed for animals. When asked about his work, he said readily,
“I love farming because it is something different from my other job. I meet people, different people. My customers—they all have their stories.”
Pre-coronavirus, he sold small amounts of produce at a farm store but mainly rotated sales at six nearby farmers’ markets: Baywood, Los Osos, Arroyo Grande, Ojai, Morro Bay, and San Luis Obispo. After the coronavirus restrictions, each of these farmers’ markets closed temporarily. Within days, Jose was faced with dwindling access to customers and acres of berries and vegetables ready to harvest. All have since reopened, with the exception of San Luis Obispo, the largest market. To make up for a more than 50 percent loss in sales at farmers’ markets, José’s workweek has increased from five to seven days. With help from his wife and son, he offers his customers produce delivery service throughout the region. People are slowly coming back to the markets, but the numbers are nowhere near what they were.
José’s produce boxes, now a part of his post-Covid 19 business plan.
José’s experience as a farmer and board member of the local Farmers’ Market Association leaves him with a sobering sense of realism about his future as a farmer. For now, he has made up for his loss in sales, but the personal costs are high, as he has even less time to spend with his family and his expenses leave little for retirement.
“I rent my land, and the land costs $4,000 a month. That and housing, water, supplies—all cost. For now, I break even.”
He mentioned the demographic shifts in his customer base and wonders if a desire for the convenience of pre-washed vegetables, pre-squeezed juices, and packaged food will edge out fresh, higher quality, locally produced food.
I end with a surprising source for good news. My niece Melanie Greben is a demand science manager at Conagra Brands—the fifth largest food producer in the county and thus the diametric opposite of these little food producer/distributor engines. A demand science manager analyzes food purchasing trends and translates these into sources of information for product development—in Melanie’s case, frozen vegetables.
She generously shared a raft of data that actually pointed toward some positive trends for the small of scale, sturdy of heart and mission. She describes five “covid themes” that represent recent buyer behavior:
Seeking Solutions: I am now cooking three meals a day, 21 meals a week, times however many people. I am looking at ways that different foods and different brands can provide solutions. Melanie identified the impact on smaller food producers. “When there are shortages of known brands, people do try something new—which can be great for the little guys.”
Seeking Comfort and Familiarity: It feels unstable. I have a desire for comfort: baking bread and cookies and going back to the basics.
Seeking New Channels (that is, how people are shopping): I may go to a grocery store instead of buying snacks from a gas station convenience store. I am buying more when I shop. I am shopping online, looking for other ways to purchase food.
Seeking Financial Help: I am more cash-strapped, I need value for my dollars. More from Melanie: “The top search online is for ‘frugal meals’ and ‘frugal meals near me.”
Seeking Health and Immunity: What should I eat to stay healthy and less stressed?
So much of what we are needing, feeling, and experiencing points to what these smaller food producers do quite naturally and authentically. They are a source of beautiful, inspiring food; they offer familiarity and comfort and alternative (and possibly safer) ways to access food; and they more than meet our desire for high quality, nutritious food.
How have your food purchasing and eating habits changed? Here are a few images of my newly forming habits.
And for you to try, here are two recipes that celebrate the beauty and bounty of our farmers’ markets, Shortbread Crust and How To Fill it and Everyday Vinaigrette, and my favorite basic, Crème Fraiche.
Take care, stay healthy, eat consciously and well.