*In New York City,* the push to eat locally can go only so far, allowing
diners the occasional gotcha moment at restaurants that promote their
sourcing. When I tasted the smooth, rich polenta at Robertas, a restaurant
in Brooklyn that grows vegetables out back, I was sure Id caught them.
Anson Mills, right? I asked the chef, Carlo Mirarchi, name-checking the
South Carolina gristmill of choice. Hed got me: Cayuga Pure Organics,
upstate. O.K. . . . Did the staff forager at Print, an upscale locavore
restaurant, find the nutty freekeh (roasted green wheat berries, a Middle
Eastern specialty) that anchors its vegetable plate at Kalustyans, across
town? Cayuga Pure Organics again. The heirloom beans at Gramercy Tavern?
Exactly.
Legumes and grains have come into play in New York in the last year,
altering the lives of a small collective of farmers outside Ithaca along
with it. Farro and polenta are no longer just Italian imports. Flour ground
from organic buckwheat, rye or winter wheat can be found beyond the
health-food store. Black, navy, pinto and heirloom beans like Jacobs Cattle
are sold at New York City green markets and snazzy grocers. Now that the
missing links on the plate have been filled in by Cayuga Pure Organics, New
York locavores can have their polenta cake and eat it too.
Beans are grown on a large scale in western New York, but they get shipped
off to distributors. And while Buffalo was once one of the largest
grain-milling centers in the country, hard wheat moved to North Dakota as
industrial flour mills sought uniformity and more beneficial weather. So
when the movement to keep ingredients close to home swept the country, the
farmers markets drove the supply, even if it meant willing it into being.
In 2003, Erick Smith and Dan Lathwell men nearing 60 whod farmed
intermittently when not working at Cornell or teaching elsewhere thought
theyd hit upon a smart niche when they created Cayuga Pure Organics to grow
pesticide-free feed for the regions newly organic dairy farms. Two years
later, the Ithaca food co-op and a natural-food distributor asked if theyd
grow organic beans on their land in the town of Caroline. They were also
connected with a local taqueria, and soon the two were struggling to keep up
with the restaurants weekly order for 500 pounds of black and pinto beans.
Then, in the fall of 2008, the farm inspector for New Yorks Greenmarket
tracked them down in her quest to find a grower to satisfy the demand for
local beans and grains.
We hemmed and hawed, thinking that going to New York City is a whole step
up in the organizational process, said Smith, an articulate man for whom
overalls and a graying beard are a natural fit after years of teaching math
education. It also required getting up to speed in marketing, which for
farmers means both self-promotion and literally selling at markets.
When I was a student in agriculture economics, Smith told me, many said
that if farmers would spend less time on the field and more time marketing,
they would make more money for themselves than they would out in the field.
Most farmers tend to fall in that category, including Dan and me. But they
had a secret weapon: 25-year-olds.
Two years ago, they hired Adrian Smith, then 23, to run the beanery. Soon
her girlfriend, Anne Riordan, was hanging around and lending a hand. Now
Smith is more involved on the business side, and Riordan has taken charge of
the beanery, a restored barn where the harvest from the farms 600 various
acres is taken for cleaning, sorting and bagging, using mostly old equipment
that Smith has bought from farms that scaled up years ago.
One of C.P.O.s employees, a puckish, fast-talking 32-year-old named Tycho
Dan, offered to use his background in retail and activism to set up and
manage the New York market and wholesale division. Now Cayuga Pure Organics
sells its products at seven markets in New York, where it shares warehouse
space with other vendors
In New York
City, the push to eat locally can go only
so far, allowing diners the occasional gotcha moment at restaurants that
promote their sourcing. When I tasted the smooth, rich polenta at
Robertas, a restaurant in Brooklyn that grows vegetables out back, I
was sure Id caught them. Anson Mills, right? I asked the chef, Carlo
Mirarchi, name-checking the South Carolina gristmill of choice. Hed got
me: Cayuga Pure Organics, upstate. O.K. . . . Did the staff forager
at Print, an upscale locavore restaurant, find the nutty freekeh
(roasted green wheat berries, a Middle Eastern specialty) that anchors
its vegetable plate at Kalustyans, across town? Cayuga Pure Organics
again. The heirloom beans at Gramercy Tavern? Exactly.
Legumes and grains have come into play in New York in the last year,
altering the lives of a small collective of farmers outside Ithaca along
with it. Farro and polenta are no longer just Italian imports. Flour
ground from organic buckwheat, rye or winter wheat can be found beyond
the health-food store. Black, navy, pinto and heirloom beans like
Jacobs Cattle are sold at New York City green markets and snazzy
grocers. Now that the missing links on the plate have been filled in by
Cayuga Pure Organics, New York locavores can have their polenta cake and
eat it too.
Beans are grown on a large scale in western New York, but they get
shipped off to distributors. And while Buffalo was once one of the
largest grain-milling centers in the country, hard wheat moved to North
Dakota as industrial flour mills sought uniformity and more beneficial
weather. So when the movement to keep ingredients close to home swept
the country, the farmers markets drove the supply, even if it meant
willing it into being.
In 2003, Erick Smith and Dan Lathwell men nearing 60 whod farmed
intermittently when not working at Cornell or teaching elsewhere
thought theyd hit upon a smart niche when they created Cayuga Pure
Organics to grow pesticide-free feed for the regions newly organic
dairy farms. Two years later, the Ithaca food co-op and a natural-food
distributor asked if theyd grow organic beans on their land in the town
of Caroline. They were also connected with a local taqueria, and soon
the two were struggling to keep up with the restaurants weekly order
for 500 pounds of black and pinto beans. Then, in the fall of 2008, the
farm inspector for New Yorks Greenmarket tracked them down in her quest
to find a grower to satisfy the demand for local beans and grains.
We hemmed and hawed, thinking that going to New York City is a whole
step up in the organizational process, said Smith, an articulate man
for whom overalls and a graying beard are a natural fit after years of
teaching math education. It also required getting up to speed in
marketing, which for farmers means both self-promotion and literally
selling at markets.
When I was a student in agriculture economics, Smith told me, many
said that if farmers would spend less time on the field and more time
marketing, they would make more money for themselves than they would out
in the field. Most farmers tend to fall in that category, including Dan
and me. But they had a secret weapon: 25-year-olds.
Two years ago, they hired Adrian Smith, then 23, to run the beanery.
Soon her girlfriend, Anne Riordan, was hanging around and lending a
hand. Now Smith is more involved on the business side, and Riordan has
taken charge of the beanery, a restored barn where the harvest from the
farms 600 various acres is taken for cleaning, sorting and bagging,
using mostly old equipment that Smith has bought from farms that scaled
up years ago.
One of C.P.O.s employees, a puckish, fast-talking 32-year-old named
Tycho Dan, offered to use his background in retail and activism to set
up and manage the New York market and wholesale division. Now Cayuga
Pure Organics sells its products at seven markets in New York, where it
shares warehouse space with other vendors