In a far away land, there lived a fisherman who fished and fished and fished. The salmon he caught were sold at the marketplace. He was an early rising and hard working fisherman who had learned the habits of the fish. He understood their cycles and seasons, like when they would return to spawn. He respected the gift of the fish and so only fished in such a way as to not hurt the future of the fish or its ability to continue to feed not only people, but all living things within the watershed (bears, eagles, earthworms, grasses, trees).As the years marched on, the fisherman noticed that the fish he was catching were a little smaller and less plentiful as they once were. He still sold his fish at the marketplace, but now he had competition from a farmer selling “farmed” fish. The farmer was raising salmon in a pen. The cost of raising the fish was cheaper and the marketplace got a bargain.
Eventually, word spread that the farmer’s fish didn’t have the richness, color, or the revered Omega 3s found in the wild salmon populations. The farmer soon discovered, however, that if he took the food of the wild salmon, like sardines and herring, and made it into fishmeal and fish oil to feed his farmed salmon, they tasted better. Unfortunately, there was a lot of bycatch (incidental or unwanted fish and other marine species) in the process and, as to be expected, a lot less fish for the wild salmon to eat.
The marketplace was growing weary and leery of farmed salmon, and for good reason. The farmer realized that the customers were becoming educated and were voicing their opinion about the overharvesting of sardines and all the bycatch. To make matters worse, word was getting out that his farmed fish were “getting out.”
After some thought, the farmer contacted another farmer and started to buy genetically modified (GM) soybeans to supplement the fish meal and fish oil, to help his farmed salmon grow bigger sooner. He reasoned that if his fish grew quickly, not only would they be ready for market sooner on less feed, but they would spend less time in the pen, meaning less chance for escapement. All of this would mean more profit.
Later, when a scientist discovered that a growth hormone could be injected into the salmon egg, causing the fish to grow twice as fast and twice as big, the farmer embraced the scientist. The marketplace, however, embraced neither, but instead let the farmer know that they would not eat his farmed, GM-fed, or GM-altered fish.
Thankfully, the fisherman was still fishing and bringing his nutrient-rich, Omega 3 laden wild salmon to the marketplace, where he was greeted by excited customers who valued the fish and the fisherman for helping them live better and eat better.
Always organic, always GMO free.
Our Annual “K” Quest
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We want to partner with you in our mission to bring GOOD FOOD to as many families as we can! If you’re a food conscious person, chances are you’ve got other food conscious people in your life. We’ve got a really good suggestion of what to give your loved ones. The gift of good!
Throwing a holiday get-together doesn’t have to be stressful. Here are a few tips for hosting a wonderful Christmas gathering without breaking a sweat.
Breadfarm’s Holiday Assortment Cookie Box $28
Those beets we keep sending in the boxes…do they just sit in the corner of the veggie drawer for weeks until they are limp and wilted, good for nothing except the compost heap, all because nobody will eat them if you fix them? Customers will tell us, “Um, beets? No one in our household will eat them besides me!” Growing up, I didn’t like things like beets, kale, or other green things either. For me, the only thing to do with beets was paint my plate, lips and face with them, until my mom caught sight of it and then I still had to eat them, which I did with great reluctance. (As a child, I discovered that if you plug your nose when eating foods you can’t stand, you can’t taste them as well, which makes them easier to swallow!) My sister, however, loved beets and sometimes she was nice enough to eat mine for me. Today, I eat beets, along with many other veggies, probably largely due to my mother’s persistence in getting me to eat them.
Like most people in my family, I like to keep things traditional on the Thanksgiving table. Mom’s buttery mashed potatoes slathered with her homemade gravy, Grandma’s pumpkin pie baked in a 9×13 so we all can have a large piece, and Grandma’s cranberry jello that wobbles and shakes when gently nudged. Even the boxed stuffed and canned cranberry sauce I find endearing because it’s been a part of this day my entire life. But as I’ve grown older and realized that there is a world beyond stovetop and that you can actually make your own cranberry sauce and as much as I love my sweet potatoes mixed with brown sugar and covered with marshmallows, there are other ways of doing things and other ingredients that are begging to be included.
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Last week, I got a call from the Everett Herald who wanted interview me for an article about I-522. This is so important to the health of future generations that, as much as I prefer not to engage in the rhetoric, I accepted. Jerry Cornfield, from the Herald, is a very good writer and accurately captured my comments in the Sunday Herald article. Ironically enough, the “No” position farmer was Andy Werkhoven, a fellow farmer and friend—we just see this issue differently.
I thought I would; but suddenly, I don’t mind the touch of chill in the air, the softer, golden-tint to the light and the mention of pumpkins, apples and squash. Last week, I wasn’t ready for summer to end. I wasn’t ready for back-to-school shopping and admitting defeat on all the items yet to be crossed off the summer to-do list. But then it hit me, as it always does. Suddenly, the gray is like a comforting blanket—familiar and welcomed.
