The deeper we immerse ourselves in this film project the more apparent some things become. One of the most startling realizations and one that makes enormous, obvious sense is that lawns could be gardens.  Many of us could be growing much more of our own food. Worried about food security?  Rip up the lawn.  Worried about chemical contamination?  Rip up the lawn.  How have we become so brainwashed by the concept of a lawn in front of every house?

Americans spend approximately $30 billion every year to maintain over 23 million acres of lawn. That’s an average of over a third of an acre and $517 per lawn. The same size plot of land could produce all of the vegetables needed to feed a family of six. The lawns in the United States consume around 270 billion gallons of water a week—enough to water 81 million acres of organic vegetables, all summer long.

Lawns use ten times as many chemicals per acre as industrial farmland. These pesticides, fertilizers, and herbicides run off into our groundwater and evaporate into our air, causing widespread pollution and global warming, and greatly increasing our risk of cancer, heart disease, and birth defects. In addition, the pollution emitted from a power mower in just one hour is equal to the amount from a car being driven 350 miles. In fact, lawns use more equipment, labor, fuel, and agricultural toxins than industrial farming, making lawns the largest agricultural sector in the United States.

Now might be the time to reconsider using this land for something besides grass. In this day of skyrocketing food prices and expensive fuel costs, doesn’t growing some of our own food make some sense?

Victory gardens, also called food gardens for defense, were vegetable, fruit and herb gardens planted at private residences in the United States, Canada, and United Kingdom during World War I and World War II to reduce the pressure on the public food supply brought on by the war effort. In addition to indirectly aiding the war effort these gardens were also considered a civil “morale booster” — in that gardeners could feel empowered by their contribution of labour and rewarded by the produce grown. Making victory gardens became a part of daily life on the home front. 20 million Americans produced up to 40 percent of all the vegetable produce consumed nationally in this country during WWII.

Of course the corporate/industrial sector of the country doesn’t want us thinking this way. Because it will cut into their profits. But the evidence we are seeing all over the country is that more and more people are indeed planting backyard gardens. It’s surprising how little land is needed to plant a garden.Most of the organic farmers we meet are farming on no more than 3-5 acres of cultivated land and realizing amazing yields and admirable diversity. We are not talking about thousands or hundreds of acres. For a back yard garden just about any space will provide surprising bounty.

Brady Hatch and Brendan McQuillen, we want to say, belong to us. They are our farmers. They work their agrarian magic at Morning Dew Farm about five or six miles from our front door, and we have spent hours with them laughing at their piglets, discoursing on the future of food, and shooting footage of their hands in the dirt. Their wildly robust produce is much like them.

Over the past two seasons we have shot more footage at their farm than any other. Situated on 26 acres near the Sheepscot River with 4 acres under cultivation, their operation includes organic vegetables, fruits, flowers, and herbs, and they raise Rhode Island Red laying hens and pigs on pasture. They also have a CSA and sell locally to area restaurants and retail outlets.

Like many of the young farmers we have met they came to agriculture in a roundabout way. But once they discovered farming they were hooked and the passion still burns in them both. It’s easy to see they love what they do.

Dr. Gary Nabhan talks about terroir, the French word for the particular characteristics that geography bestows on locale. Flavor, he says, is characteristic of place. The live components of the soil that plants grow in and the water that plants drink result in the richness and uniqueness of taste. Terroir is why a peach grown in Georgia and a peach grown in New Jersey, both delicious, taste completely different.Possibly an aspect of terroir, part of what makes fruits and vegetables, and even animals, taste of the place of their origin, has to do with the alchemy between farmer and farm. Day by day, into the mix of sun, water, and soil, flows the energy, disposition, knowledge, and passion of the farmer.

This is opinion, of course, but once seduced by the beautiful fat radishes and peppery arugula sitting in Morning Dew Farm’s market baskets, the taste is inevitably a full body experience. Silence, please, while we chew slowly, savor, and silently thank our farmers for their never-ending labor of love.

Is there a filtering process that allows only exemplary people to take up organic farming? We have travelled around the country interviewing farmers, probably more than twenty, and after every meeting we say the same thing: what great people. The fact is that despite the times we live in which promote shock and alarm, we find our hope factor accruing geometrically with each new farmer that stands before our camera lens.

So here we go again: John Bliss and Stacey Brenner lease Broadturn Farm in Scarborough, Maine from a Farm Trust. Their farm supplies CSA shares to 100 people, and they have a waiting list of nearly double that. Neither Stacey nor John grew up on a farm; Stacey lived in urban Philadelphia and John’s childhood was spent in Wellesley, MA. Like their peers, they came to agriculture by following their instincts toward a purposeful life. John said his real love was eating well. It’s fortunate, he commented, that it turned out he liked the farming life because he leaped into it without much forethought other than he would eat the best food and find a community of like-minded individuals. Both John and Stacey spoke eloquently about the community that wholesome food fosters. Because they are near Portland, their farm is frequently visited by city-dwelling customers who want their children to understand the source of their food and to see the farm animals that supply their milk, eggs, and eventually, meat.

Michael, my partner, observed something that we both are drawn to in the farmers we meet. As Michael said, there is a distinguishing quality about them that is almost palpable, and it is a rootedness, for lack of a better word. They are in the place they want to be. They have an earthy wisdom that looks out from their eyes and that moves with them as they tend to the million chores that make their farms flourish. Their sense of place grows out of the attention and commitment they have made to make this one place their home, and their evident fulfillment comes from the work they do that is essential, honorable, and important. They feed us well. They take thoughtful care of the animals and earth under their watch. They understand and live the maxim that they must work with the earth. They symbolize the transition from the old paradigm of endless consumption to the new paradigm of balance and sustainability for all.

It’s a life with dirty hands and torn trousers, and it is enviable.

We arrived early at the Belfast Co-op in Belfast, Maine with time to wander the aisles before our interview with one of the three store managers, Erica Buswell. We are not strangers to the Co-op and like many people we consider it the starship of Maine’s co-op fleet. The reasons we like this place are as vague as trying to define the vibe. People are friendly. The clientèle is fascinating to watch - all types of people walk through the doors: old, young, hip, unhip, local, from away; some are carrying bicycle helmets, some are trailing children, many chat in line at the deli counter. The outstanding aspect that unites them all is their common love of good food and good practices.

With over 2,500 member/owners, the Belfast Co-op is Maine’s largest, and, opened in 1976, also its oldest. Gross sales are over 3 million dollars per year with about 45 engaging co-operators staffing the store seven days a week.

We were interested in learning how a large natural food store is experiencing the great shift, from automatic processed-food consumer to questioning consumer, that is disrupting the American food consciousness right now. Ironically that shift hasn’t been as obvious in Belfast as it has been around the rest of the country because the local community has had a very high food IQ for a long time. The demand for organic and local whole foods has been consistently significant and accounts for the co-op’s strong growth. Erica told us that the greatest change they are witnessing is in the area of supply - more farmers, growers, and producers. And with the experimentation than Eliot Coleman and others have conducted to successfully extend Maine’s growing season, the store is choosing from a greater variety of products year-round.

Another of the issues we talked about was the alarming changes that have taken place over the last year with rising fuel and food costs. The fear is real and strong that rising costs across the board might take organic food beyond the financial reach of most people. Experience shows that people will pay $8 for a gallon of organic milk today. But will they pay $10 or $12 if the price climbs in the coming months? A loaf of bread that costs $4 now may begin to seem too pricey at $5 or $6. Many people are stretched to their financial limits and if prices increase, they will face tough decisions about how and where they spend their food budget.

The end of cheap food seems to be upon us. Part of the reason is the current ethanol stampede which has caused a huge spike in commodity and grain prices. Farmers are getting paid so well for corn these days they they are putting more and more land into corn production and taking it away from wheat and other beneficial grains. As the supply of edible grains for humans and livestock decreases, the prices skyrocket.

The Belfast Co-op is very much tied to the community. In response to concerns raised by the farmers, the co-op is leading a community-based discussion about building a storage unit to handle the increasing supply of goods from farmers. A 40 seat cafe in the store is a gathering place for friends and business associates and the site of educational programs and book discussions on subjects ranging from root cellars and cooking classes to getting more local food into the school system.

The mission of the Co-op is to reflect and serve the needs of the community. By encouraging a free-flowing and continuous dialogue among patrons, non-members, city administrators, staff, the Board of Directors, and farmers and producers, the co-op fulfills a leadership role by bringing together disparate elements and by fueling the movement toward a sustainable and coherent community.

We spent some time with Simon and Jane Frost and their young son Otis this gloriously hot afternoon. The heavy humidity of the past few days has pushed out over the coast away from Maine skies and though still hot it was comfortable at Thirty Acre Farm.

In 2004, Simon and Jane bought a derelict farm in Whitefield, Maine that hadn’t been worked in more than 40 years.  The old stone walls gave evidence of once-upon-a-time fields, now grown over with forest. Their idea was to fell the hardwood trees and let the farm animals finish clearing the underbrush, making the land habitable for farming and grazing. From what we could see the pigs were doing most of the heavy lifting, digging and rooting, and so far they have cleared about 8 acres. Today the farm is thriving with a diverse population of animals and plants.  In addition to pigs we saw goats and and the llama that watches over them, chickens, cabbage, a luxury of beautiful basil, edible nasturtiums, more vegetables, and more herbs.

The Frosts have almost 50 pigs in all stages of maturity and they completely dominated our attention. Pigs are just so strange and so comical. Every time I see them up close I feel good will  emanating from them, despite the stories Simon told about their former boar, now sausage, who chased him and bit him if he could. Even trying not to anthropomorphize, these pigs look happy, really contented. They smile.  They are curious. They rush right up to the fence to see what’s going on. They are also very social; I don’t think I’ve ever seen a solitary pig, they are always in groups. They love to lay up against each other on the ground, or rub and scratch together while standing. There was a touching moment while filming when Simon coaxed the giant boar out of his slumber to come to water. As this massive pig lay on the ground Simon knelt down on a knee and stroked his back and head like you would a dog. Two species living together symbiotically and in harmony.

I have read much about factory farming of animals. It is a dark nightmare in our human history that truly staggers me. The fact that human beings can be so cruel to animals in this day and age is simply unfathomable and unacceptable. Factory farms should be stopped now and we as consumers are the ones with whom that responsibility lies. Here’s what we can do: never buy meat from any producer that does not humanely raise and treat their animals. There is no excuse for supporting this system and no other way to end it.

Simon and Jane, like most of the young farmers we have interviewed, do not come from a farming background. They have started from scratch, learning stage by stage, by example and by trial and error, the life and the secrets of organic farming. They made it very clear that the new farming community that they are now a part of has been a tremendous resource for them. They are a fraternity and they all help and support each other. That is part of the allure to this new movement. Along with the satisfaction of growing good and beautiful food for the rest of us.

C.R. Lawn is the founder of Fedco Seeds in Waterville, Maine, a well-known seed source around the country and highly regarded by many of the growers we have visited.

In 1973, at the tail end of the back-to-the-land movement, C. R, bought an old farm in Waterville, Maine. He participated in a natural foods co-op and eventually applied the same business model to seed distribution, resulting in Fedco.  We interviewed him about the huge importance of seeds to our food supply and the threats that face seed propagation. For thousands of years farmers have carefully saved seeds from their crops to insure that their most successful fruits and vegetables will be duplicated in following years. Now seed ownership is in danger of being taken out of the hands of conservation farmers and co-opted by the largest agro-businesses. This is alarming because as corporate control of seed sources grows – one of the largest agribusinesses now owns more than 30% of the market – the shift toward chemically-dependent and GMO-modified seeds also grows. The danger is that many of the laboratory modifications to seeds are the equivalent of a world-wide experiment: we do not know how these re-engineered seeds ultimately affect the plants that host them, the human beings and animals that eat them, and the environment that eventually must absorb them.

Maine is just beginning to see GMO varieties and this is causing concern and controversy. Apparently the forces aligned behind bringing GMO’s into Maine were impossible to stop: too much money behind them. Right now all we can hope for is some kind of oversight or regulation. Contamination is one of the biggest issues because GMO crops can easily cross pollinate with non-GMO crops. One of the farmers we interviewed this spring in North Carolina told us that to find soybeans that have not been crossed with GMO strains is nearly impossible. You can see the problem….

Also high on C.R.’s list of concerns is food security. As he says, after water what is it that human beings need most in life….food! The centralized food system that we have in this country stretches out over thousands of miles and is vulnerable to all kinds of catastrophes. The idea that every region need not be responsible for its own food production is a dangerous one, particularly in this era of peak oil. If the oil stops flowing the food will soon follow. Considering the risk, it’s really mind boggling to think how fragile and stupid this system is. Not so long ago, within living memory, most of what we ate grew locally. If we are to avert the possibility of no more food, small growers must survive and seed propagation must remain under control of the people, not the corporations.

After the interview we stopped by the house C.R. shares with his partner Eli Kaufman, (The Heritage Wheat Conservancy), a world authority on wheat varieties and production, for more conversation. Their kitchen counter holds an electric grain mill that I want. If fresh grain carries the taste equivalent of fresh produce, the bread that Eli stirs up from flour she mills must be the best. Their house is filled with wheat seeds, wheat art, and books, just like their lives.

The work they accomplish together and separately rallies around the idea that in seeds lies the future of our food. How we practice seed cultivation, how we protect our sources for sustainable varieties, the patience with which we remember, note, and cultivate the heartiest seeds, this is what makes for real homeland security. As C.R. notes, he loves farmers because they are the folks who are really doing something about protecting America.

Though I’m aware of the inherent difficulty in tracing the provenance of food love – memories blur, emotions filter – Kurtwood Farms may embody the pinnacle of our quest for the ideal marriage of food and experience.  My appreciation for food as something more than taste probably got its start with the hot fudge sundaes my father stirred up as band-aids for whatever brought on our childhood tears.  From that thread I can follow my food memories from one to another and I can tell you that the best of the best, the recollections that warm me up, bring to mind something delicious I ate, plus – the suggestion of a timeless perfect moment.

Everything about Kurtwood Farms is delicious, and timeless and perfect.   The hold it has on my imagination is so powerful even seven months after our first visit I am still looking for my own island farm on mainland Maine.

We took the ferry to Vashon Island, about a half hour ride from Seattle across Puget Sound, because my brother Michael Hebb insisted that Kurtwood Farms, and Kurt Timmermeister, would bring to our documentary on the real food movement a sense of the audacity and persuasion of fabulous, farm-fresh food.  Kurt’s stance is that food grown locally, and harvested at the most propitious moment and cooked judiciously, is the highest pinnacle of food flavor and elegance.  Consequently, the lunch and a subsequent dinner cooked for us by Chef Morgan Brownlow grew entirely out of the ten acres that make up the farm – with the exception of salt and wine, which Kurt mentioned, could be done.

Before our lunch we exchanged a gaze with the beautiful Jersey cow whose milk we sipped and whose cheese we ate.  We strolled through the vegetable garden and peered into the sweet-smelling milk room.  Our lunch was hand-made pizza with prosciutto made from a pig sacrificed the previous winter, blood-red tomatoes, a light potato soup, and rolls baked in the outdoor wood-fired oven.  We couldn’t talk during lunch.  Mouths full, eyes flashing rapture, we savored.  Afterwards, while Morgan put up fresh tomatoes for sauce and paste, we talked with Kurt about how and why he started the farm.

Kurt, a successful and much-lauded Seattle restaurateur, experienced that stasis common to restaurant people – burn-out.  Stories of my brother’s Family Supper in Portland, Oregon finally encouraged Kurt to drive south for one of the dinners that Michael and his wife Naomi served up at long tables in their catering kitchen.

Inspired, Kurt returned home and looked at the ten acres of scrub woods he owned on Vashon Island with a new regard.  He sold his restaurant and moved to the island, built a small farmhouse kitchen with a harvest table seating twenty, cleared land, planted vegetables, purchased cows and pigs and chickens, and sent out an invitation to friends and former clientele to become customers of his Sunday suppers on Vashon.

The response was overwhelmingly positive and has remained so ever since.  At Kurt’s farm, something profound comes together in the most unassuming way.  The elements – land, sun, water, handsome design, tangible and durable abundance, hunger, kindred spirits, and the relationships each to the other – stand simply and transparently in balance at Kurtwood Farms.  Nothing tastes as good as food that has a story attached to it and everything on Kurt’s table is linked to an effort, a memory, or a narrative that continues to wind forward with the seasons.

To be invited to Kurtwood Farm for dinner it helps to know someone who can introduce your name to Kurt’s email list.  Sunday dinner is memorable because Kurt is a great host, Morgan is a great chef, the food is superb, and the people who share your table are likely to be the kind of people who appreciate the conviviality that abounds when these distinct arts come together.

We visit our local farmers’ market in Damariscotta nearly every Friday morning, late spring to late fall. We are still gathering footage for the film and arranging interviews with people who come to shop for fresh local food.

The Damariscotta Farmers’ Market is beautifully situated at the entrance to the Damariscotta River Association, a gorgeous old salt water farm that sits on the banks of Great Salt Bay. Walking paths wander through fields that stretch down to the water and a large pond in the center provides a noisy sanctuary for wildlife and water fowl. The market sits high overlooking the meadows and bay which, in this year’s spring of alternate rain and sunshine, is particularly green and lush.

As for the market itself it’s an exciting time. Gardens are at last starting to percolate and farmers have more to offer their customers: basket of broccoli, radishes, beans, peas and lettuces along with a bevy of beautiful garden flowers. After a time of hard work and waiting, the farmers can begin to envision the rewards of their hard work showing up on people’s dinner plates.

This week we will be busy with interviews. CR Lawn, the founder of Fedco Seeds, is coming up and we are very excited about meeting him. He has written about the importance of seed-saving and seed propagation and I suspect we will be talking about GMO’s. Seems everyday people are becoming more and more concerned about contamination from GMOs. Our film needs a good voice of authority on this subject and on seeds in general. Such an important element in this whole story but often overlooked I suspect.

We will also be going to Thirty Acre Farm in Whitefield, Maine. Simon and Jane Frost raise certified organic pork and produce small batches of eggs, pork, vegetables, herbs and flowers. We also lacto-ferment cabbage and other vegetables to produce 3 types of sauerkraut, kimchi, sour dill pickles, gingered carrots and other tantalizing treats.

See Interview Here

In the spring of 2008 we visited the offices of the Humane Society in Washington, D.C. There we spoke with one of the foremost experts in the country on factory farmed animal production. We have created an 18 minute interview highlighting the best moments from one of the most remarkable people we have met during the production of this film. Dr. Michael Greger is director of Public Health and Animal Agriculture in the farm animal welfare division.

A physician specializing in clinical nutrition, Greger focuses his work on the human health implications of intensive animal agriculture, including the routine use of non-therapeutic antibiotics and growth hormones in animals raised for food, and the public health threats of industrial factory farms. He also works on food safety issues, such as bovine spongiform encephalopathy (mad cow disease), and plays a role in The HSUS’s efforts to analyze and shape public policy concerning agriculture and nutrition.