April 24, 2024

In spaces like this, we thrive: the need for farmers, not food cartels.

"Four companies took in an estimated two-thirds of all grocery sales in 2019."

Writer:
Words by
David Cook
Photographer:
Photography by
Sarah Unger

Food as a verb thanks

Pruett's

for sponsoring this series

"Four companies took in an estimated two-thirds of all grocery sales in 2019."

"Building community around the dining table is my primary mission."

At a farmers' market, the most splendidly transformative and radically countercultural thing happens.

We buy food from a local farmer.

Yep. That's it. Just a simple transaction – $15, say, for broccoli, sausage, honey and shiitakes that go into our bag, onto our kitchen counter, into our stomach. Within the modern food landscape, this simple act – buying food from men and women whose hands you can shake – has become revolutionary, an act of resistance, an act of astoundingly wholesome commerce that places us only one degree removed from our food.

Everywhere else? Food is often grown in faraway lands and labs, by hands that are out of sight, often underpaid, with ingredients we can't pronounce, using methods we don't understand.

Maybe the impact of this hits you square in the chest: buying food from local farmers is one of the most important acts we can do, so rare and precious, especially in a larger American food landscape often summed up in one word.

"Oligarchy," writes Eric Schlosser in The Atlantic.

Schlosser – the author of Fast Food Nation – describes in this month's "Do We Really Want a Food Cartel?" the way four companies dominate our food system.

"Four companies now control about 52 percent of the American market for rice, about 61 percent of the market for fresh bread, and about 79 percent of the market for pasta," he writes, citing a 2021 study by Food & Water Watch.

Schlosser calls it a "food cartel."

Food & Water Watch calls them the "grocery cartels."

"Just four companies took in an estimated two-thirds of all grocery sales in 2019, the year before the pandemic hit. Walmart alone gobbles up $1 out of every $3 spent at grocery retailers," its 2021 report states.

The big four? Walmart, Kroger, Albertsons, Costco. (If the current merger between Kroger and Albertsons is successful, four becomes three.)

"Three companies now provide the breeding stock for about 47 percent of the world's hogs. Two companies provide the breeding stock for about 94 percent of the world's egg-laying hens," Schlosser writes. "The same two companies, EW Group and Hendrix Genetics, provide the breeding stock for 99 percent of the world's turkeys."

By comparison, our regional farmers offer an off-ramp from such top-heavy monopoly into a world of gentle relationships, intimate connection and sustainable health.

Consider the ever-kind Ron Shaffer at Red Clay Farms, who mills grain, grows vegetables and always makes time for handshakes and conversation.

Or the noble diligence of Christia and Richard Crook at the farrow-to-finish Dayspring Pig Mountain Farm, where the animals and land are well-tended and loved.

Or our own Crabtree Farms, the city's farm. Or the towering abundance of Tara and Brad Smith's Fresh Tech Growers. Or the wealth of herbal wisdom from Alysia Leon and Bird Fork Farm. Or Bertus Vandermerwe's bountiful Big Sycamore Farm.

Fresh Tech Growers
Crabtree Farms
Red Clay Farm
Bird Fork Farm
Big Sycamore Farm

There's no guilt trip here. Yes, we shop big-box stores routinely. Money's tight for us, too. But imagine the shift in perspective, experience and wellbeing if just 1% of the county's population – 3750 people – shopped regional farmers' markets each week, experiencing the difference between cartel food and locally farmed food.

Imagine the shift in money flowing through our regional economy.

Last weekend, Sarah attended Sequatchie Cove Farm's Supper Club. It was the opposite of cartel culture: intimate, lovely, inviting, homegrown and nurtured.

Each month, the Keener family plans on hosting an on-farm Supper Club. There are a hundred reasons to go: the land itself, the Keeners, the contagious good-hearted feeling of dining together with friends and strangers, the Chattanooga chefs – like Neutral Ground's Kenyatta Ashford – who prepare each month's supper using farm produce and meat.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co, Tenn.

On Saturday, April 20, the fine Keener family at Sequatchie Cove Farm along with renowned chef, Kenyatta Ashford, kicked off the Sequatchie Cove Supper Club:

“This is the kickoff dinner for our new monthly dinner series, the Sequatchie Cove Supper Club," they announced. "Enjoy an evening of food-centered community as we gather to celebrate the freshest seasonal ingredients, directly from our fields to you at our table. Hand selected ingredients from our farm and from nearby growers, producers, millers, distillers, and roasters will be expertly curated into an inspiring menu by the Chef."

Arriving to the farm, we looked up and out at the expanse: the sky was low and gray, kind enough to hold out spring rain while accentuating the lush, green landscape.

Attendees were greeted with sweet, young smiles and a table full of wine, funky, handblown glasses, flowers and, of course, cheese from Sequatchie Cove Creamery.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

Friends filled their glasses and found their designated spots at the table, as new friends were introduced, lazy dogs wondered what the ruckus was about and curious cats sought attention. In no hurry, we all took our seats with anticipation and eager stomachs.

Sequatchie Cove Farm
Sequatchie Cove Farm
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

I made my way into the kitchen to greet the chef and sneak a glimpse of what was in store for the evening. When I opened the squeaky wooden door, I was overcome with the smell of Korean barbecue chicken and fried rice sizzling on the stove. Chef Kenyatta glanced up, always focused, never phased or distracted by the production of it all.

Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.

Chef Kenyatta kindly welcomed us, the dinner began and family style dishes of Asian influence flowed down the table.

Swiss Chard Salad, Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.
Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.

"These are the best sweet potatoes I've ever tasted in my life," one friend said.

The food was delicious. The atmosphere was comforting. Everyone was present.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

As the sky dimmed and the candles flickered, Kelsey Keener and Kenyatta Ashford spoke the words you want to hear from people who are in this business. They spoke about the land and planet, farmers and chefs, and how it all means something. It is all delicate and intentional. And in spaces like this, it can all come together and thrive.

"I'm in the business of feeding people," Ashford told the crowd that night. "Community is really close to my heart. Building community around the dining table is my primary mission."

"We're farmers. We work seven days a week on the farm, rain or shine," said Keener. He welcomed feedback, promising to continue to build community through farm-to-table meals.

"That's how we're going to turn this into something even more magical and special."

To experience one of these evening for yourself, stay tuned in with Sequatchie Cove Farm Events at https://www.sequatchiecovefarm.com/events-events-events

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

All photography by Sarah Unger (sarah@foodasaverb.com)

All design by Alex DeHart

All words by David Cook (david@foodasaverb.com)

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in sponsorship or advertising opportunities? Email us: david@foodasaverb.com and sarah@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.

food as a verb thanks our sustaining partner:

food as a verb thanks our story sponsor:

Pruett's

X

keep reading

November 6, 2024
read more
November 3, 2024
read more

"Four companies took in an estimated two-thirds of all grocery sales in 2019."

"Building community around the dining table is my primary mission."

At a farmers' market, the most splendidly transformative and radically countercultural thing happens.

We buy food from a local farmer.

Yep. That's it. Just a simple transaction – $15, say, for broccoli, sausage, honey and shiitakes that go into our bag, onto our kitchen counter, into our stomach. Within the modern food landscape, this simple act – buying food from men and women whose hands you can shake – has become revolutionary, an act of resistance, an act of astoundingly wholesome commerce that places us only one degree removed from our food.

Everywhere else? Food is often grown in faraway lands and labs, by hands that are out of sight, often underpaid, with ingredients we can't pronounce, using methods we don't understand.

Maybe the impact of this hits you square in the chest: buying food from local farmers is one of the most important acts we can do, so rare and precious, especially in a larger American food landscape often summed up in one word.

"Oligarchy," writes Eric Schlosser in The Atlantic.

Schlosser – the author of Fast Food Nation – describes in this month's "Do We Really Want a Food Cartel?" the way four companies dominate our food system.

"Four companies now control about 52 percent of the American market for rice, about 61 percent of the market for fresh bread, and about 79 percent of the market for pasta," he writes, citing a 2021 study by Food & Water Watch.

Schlosser calls it a "food cartel."

Food & Water Watch calls them the "grocery cartels."

"Just four companies took in an estimated two-thirds of all grocery sales in 2019, the year before the pandemic hit. Walmart alone gobbles up $1 out of every $3 spent at grocery retailers," its 2021 report states.

The big four? Walmart, Kroger, Albertsons, Costco. (If the current merger between Kroger and Albertsons is successful, four becomes three.)

"Three companies now provide the breeding stock for about 47 percent of the world's hogs. Two companies provide the breeding stock for about 94 percent of the world's egg-laying hens," Schlosser writes. "The same two companies, EW Group and Hendrix Genetics, provide the breeding stock for 99 percent of the world's turkeys."

By comparison, our regional farmers offer an off-ramp from such top-heavy monopoly into a world of gentle relationships, intimate connection and sustainable health.

Consider the ever-kind Ron Shaffer at Red Clay Farms, who mills grain, grows vegetables and always makes time for handshakes and conversation.

Or the noble diligence of Christia and Richard Crook at the farrow-to-finish Dayspring Pig Mountain Farm, where the animals and land are well-tended and loved.

Or our own Crabtree Farms, the city's farm. Or the towering abundance of Tara and Brad Smith's Fresh Tech Growers. Or the wealth of herbal wisdom from Alysia Leon and Bird Fork Farm. Or Bertus Vandermerwe's bountiful Big Sycamore Farm.

Fresh Tech Growers
Crabtree Farms
Red Clay Farm
Bird Fork Farm
Big Sycamore Farm

There's no guilt trip here. Yes, we shop big-box stores routinely. Money's tight for us, too. But imagine the shift in perspective, experience and wellbeing if just 1% of the county's population – 3750 people – shopped regional farmers' markets each week, experiencing the difference between cartel food and locally farmed food.

Imagine the shift in money flowing through our regional economy.

Last weekend, Sarah attended Sequatchie Cove Farm's Supper Club. It was the opposite of cartel culture: intimate, lovely, inviting, homegrown and nurtured.

Each month, the Keener family plans on hosting an on-farm Supper Club. There are a hundred reasons to go: the land itself, the Keeners, the contagious good-hearted feeling of dining together with friends and strangers, the Chattanooga chefs – like Neutral Ground's Kenyatta Ashford – who prepare each month's supper using farm produce and meat.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co, Tenn.

On Saturday, April 20, the fine Keener family at Sequatchie Cove Farm along with renowned chef, Kenyatta Ashford, kicked off the Sequatchie Cove Supper Club:

“This is the kickoff dinner for our new monthly dinner series, the Sequatchie Cove Supper Club," they announced. "Enjoy an evening of food-centered community as we gather to celebrate the freshest seasonal ingredients, directly from our fields to you at our table. Hand selected ingredients from our farm and from nearby growers, producers, millers, distillers, and roasters will be expertly curated into an inspiring menu by the Chef."

Arriving to the farm, we looked up and out at the expanse: the sky was low and gray, kind enough to hold out spring rain while accentuating the lush, green landscape.

Attendees were greeted with sweet, young smiles and a table full of wine, funky, handblown glasses, flowers and, of course, cheese from Sequatchie Cove Creamery.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

Friends filled their glasses and found their designated spots at the table, as new friends were introduced, lazy dogs wondered what the ruckus was about and curious cats sought attention. In no hurry, we all took our seats with anticipation and eager stomachs.

Sequatchie Cove Farm
Sequatchie Cove Farm
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

I made my way into the kitchen to greet the chef and sneak a glimpse of what was in store for the evening. When I opened the squeaky wooden door, I was overcome with the smell of Korean barbecue chicken and fried rice sizzling on the stove. Chef Kenyatta glanced up, always focused, never phased or distracted by the production of it all.

Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.

Chef Kenyatta kindly welcomed us, the dinner began and family style dishes of Asian influence flowed down the table.

Swiss Chard Salad, Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.
Kenyatta Ashford, Sequatchie Cove Farm, Marion Co., Tenn.

"These are the best sweet potatoes I've ever tasted in my life," one friend said.

The food was delicious. The atmosphere was comforting. Everyone was present.

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

As the sky dimmed and the candles flickered, Kelsey Keener and Kenyatta Ashford spoke the words you want to hear from people who are in this business. They spoke about the land and planet, farmers and chefs, and how it all means something. It is all delicate and intentional. And in spaces like this, it can all come together and thrive.

"I'm in the business of feeding people," Ashford told the crowd that night. "Community is really close to my heart. Building community around the dining table is my primary mission."

"We're farmers. We work seven days a week on the farm, rain or shine," said Keener. He welcomed feedback, promising to continue to build community through farm-to-table meals.

"That's how we're going to turn this into something even more magical and special."

To experience one of these evening for yourself, stay tuned in with Sequatchie Cove Farm Events at https://www.sequatchiecovefarm.com/events-events-events

Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.
Sequatchie Cove Farm Supper Club, Marion Co., Tenn.

All photography by Sarah Unger (sarah@foodasaverb.com)

All design by Alex DeHart

All words by David Cook (david@foodasaverb.com)

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in sponsorship or advertising opportunities? Email us: david@foodasaverb.com and sarah@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.

Food as a verb thanks our story sponsor:

Food as a Verb Thanks our sustaining partner:

keep reading

November 6, 2024
READ MORE
November 3, 2024
READ MORE
November 6, 2024
READ MORE
November 3, 2024
READ MORE
October 30, 2024
READ MORE

Regional Farmers' Markets

Brainerd Farmers' Market
Saturday, 10am - noon
Grace Episcopal Church, 20 Belvoir Ave, Chattanooga, TN
Chattanooga Market
Sunday, 11am - 4pm
1820 Carter Street
Dunlap Farmers' Market
Every Saturday morning, spring through fall, from 9am to 1pm central.
Harris Park, 91 Walnut St., Dunlap, TN
Fresh Mess Market
Every Thursday, 3pm - 6pm, beg. June 6 - Oct. 3
Harton Park, Monteagle, TN. (Rain location: Monteagle Fire Hall.)
Main Street Farmers' Market
Wednesday, 4 - 6pm
Corner of W. 20th and Chestnut St., near Finley Stadium
Ooltewah Farmers' Market
The Ooltewah Nursery, Thursday, 3 - 6pm
5829 Main Street Ooltewah, TN 37363
Rabbit Valley Farmers' Market
Saturdays, 9am to 1pm, mid-May to mid-October.
96 Depot Street Ringgold, GA 30736
South Cumberland Farmers' Market
Tuesdays from 4:15 to 6:00 p.m. (central.) Order online by Monday 10 am (central.)
Sewanee Community Center (behind the Sewanee Market on Ball Park Rd.)
St. Alban's Farmers' Market
Saturday, 9.30am - 12.30pm with a free pancake breakfast every third Saturday
7514 Hixson Pike
Walker County Farmers' Market - Sat
Saturday, 9 am - 1 pm
Downtown Lafayette, Georgia
Walker County Farmers' Market - Wed
Wednesday, 2 - 5 pm
Rock Spring Ag. Center