Editor’s note: This commentary is by Peter Burmeister, an organic livestock and poultry farmer and processor in Berlin. He also operates a state inspected poultry processing plant. In addition, he is a psychotherapist and has been a faculty member at various colleges and universities in Vermont and New York.
[A] funny thing happened on the way to the farmers market. The farmers failed to show up.
As a vendor at four different farmers markets in central Vermont each week I find myself one farmer amongst a tiny minority of the sellers. My products are certified organic, government-inspected beef, pork and chicken. A few other fellow farmers come to market well-stocked with seasonal fresh vegetables and delicious treats like Vermont strawberries.
The rest of the vendors? Well, there are the purveyors of prepared foods: sugary confections such as cakes and pies made with 0 percent Vermont ingredients; starch- and fat-laden entrees consisting of flour and meats from Costco or some supermarket; kettle corn of heaven knows what non-Vermont origin, popped in GMO name-brand corn oil; pizza with thick crust made of Midwestern bromated white flour and an eighth of an inch of commercial cheese topping surrounding non-organic vegetables and/or sausage. Most of these are packaged in non-recyclable Styrofoam or clear plastic containers that end up heaped over the top of the trash receptacles when the market closes. Food waste is not separated from the packaging either, it all ends up in one disgusting heap.
Worst of all, from my jaundiced point of view, is the hot dog vendor, who makes no pretense of offering anything local, instead in a few hours serving up hundreds of nitrate-dressed mystery meat tube steaks with a side of high-fructose corn syrup and GMO sugar beverage in an aluminum can.
There are exceptions. A few of the larger markets have rules that ensure a percentage of the ingredients in the prepared food offerings are of local origin. But for most of the venues, as one market board member wryly noted, “The only requirement for vendors being here is that they are breathing.”
A quick walk away to the prepared food vendors is painful for me and my fellow farmers when we see the closing hour approach and know that we will be taking back home most of what we brought to sell.
Equally sad from my vantage point are some of the attendees. I don’t regard this population as potential customers because they rarely purchase any of the healthy meat and veggie offerings. Instead, they walk around with their hands in their pockets or at their sides, ogling the items on display as if they were at an art gallery opening. Then, because everyone needs to purchase food somewhere, they leave with their hoards of cash intact, presumably at some later date or time headed for the strip mall or the big box store.
A substantial (I use the word advisedly) portion of the unbuying populace is frighteningly obese. In many instances they waddle or stumble about with the aid of high-tech walkers or four-legged canes. There is no particular age profile; they range from toddlers to teenagers to adults and most of the latter appear to be considerably younger than my seven decades and counting. Is there a correlation between diet and being overweight? Is that even a question?
I have always regarded farmers markets as alternative places to shop. Knowing the farmer and the practices employed on the land gives me a comfort level that is lacking even in the “certified organic” foods that are available in supermarkets and box stores. The freshness and quality of farmers market foods is unquestionably finer and it gives me pleasure to know I am supporting my local community with my food dollars.
Seemingly these sentiments are not shared by the majority of the population, and not even by the majority of those that show up at the weekly markets.
Condescending smiles abound when I tout the advantages of the fresh poultry and meats that I have to offer. A quick walk away to the prepared food vendors is painful for me and my fellow farmers when we see the closing hour approach and know that we will be taking back home most of what we brought to sell. And it is a rare market when I or another local food vendor is not the butt of a hostile remark about prices, organics or non-GMOs. Anyone is of course entitled to their opinion, but why the sarcasm, why the unpleasantness when a simple walk away or a “no thank you” would suffice?
Perhaps the worst part of all this is the sight of a full parking lot when I drive past the supermarket on the way back to the farm. Yes, I understand the convenience factor in one-stop shopping. But I have to wonder what if anything is in the mind of the shoppers. Do they consider the incredible cost to the planet in terms of the nefarious farming practices of multi-national corporations that burn through millions of tons of chemical fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides and fossil fuels in a single season, exploiting Third World farm laborers, and contributing to climate change?
It is true that not everything one might like to eat can be purchased at a single farmers market. But even that fact could be subject to change if the demand were there. Solar-powered greenhouses are a technological reality and we could produce almost 100 percent of what we need locally if our local consumers would commit to buying from us. But seemingly that is too much to ask. Going to the supermarket is so much less trouble. Yes. But is all this saving of trouble worth the trouble?
Did I say that a funny thing happened on the way to the farmers market? Well, it really isn’t very funny. In fact, it’s pretty sad.
