This is our farm column from farmer Casey O’Neill. O’Neill is the owner operator of HappyDay Farms north of Laytonville, and a long time advocate for the cannabis community in Mendocino Co; more of his writing can be found here. The opinions expressed in this column are those of the writer. If you would like to submit a letter to the editor feel free to write to [email protected].
I awoke Thursday morning to a few inches of snow and a hankering to make some fried rice after morning chores. I poured stock and dry rice into a small pot and brought it to a boil while I built a fire, made tea and heated broth for drinking. Leaving the pot to simmer on the woodstove, I fed the dog, cats and rabbits and then headed for the ranch to feed the livestock. Despite snow on their backs, the pigs and sheep seemed unbothered, munching with gusto on the pre-soaked alfalfa pellets and apples I brought them, along with some flakes of hay that I put into the shelters so they could continue to eat in a dry space
Next I fed the chickens and added fresh straw to their run, in part to cover up the funk and in part to give them something to scratch in and search for seeds. I had harvested cover crop into totes at my place the day before so the chickens would have fresh greens to eat, and they were pumped when I threw in an armload of the mixed oat grass, bell bean shoots and vetch. Then I mixed up the rations of grain and alfalfa for the next pig feeding, pouring water into the buckets to soak the feed to soften it for easier digestion and better nutrient absorption.
Chores completed, I headed home to the warmth of the kitchen. I put the kettle on to boil for coffee and started heating the two big, cast-iron frying pans. When we slaughtered on Tuesday, Amber skinned out the jowl meat from Boink the pig. This is very fatty meat similar to bacon, although plain and uncured. I sliced the jowl bacon into thin strips and got them frying in the skillets, fat popping and jumping as the lard rendered out and the pieces of fatty meat browned to a light crisp.
While the meat sizzled in the skillets I chopped onions and shallots, and after pulling the meat out and setting it aside, I added them into the pans to start frying. There was a chunk of pork roast with carrots and cabbage leftover from dinner the night before, so I drained the juice out of it, diced the roast and added the whole mix into the skillets. The layer of fat from the jowl bacon was enough to keep everything good and greasy as I added in the rice, which had cooked to perfection on the side of the woodstove.
Next I chopped the crispy jowl meat into small bits and added it into the skillets, stirring everything together and eyeing the amount of grease to make sure it was enough to keep the pans from sticking. With the whole mix frying away, I cracked 16 eggs into a bowl and whisked them with salt, spices and herbs. I divided the egg mixture into the two skillets and then used the wooden spatula to stir the mixtures, moving back and forth between the two pans to keep the eggs from sticking and burning. After a few minutes everything was cooked just right and I shut off the heat, served two nice bowls, and put the rest into a big pyrex for later meals.
The feeling of comfort and contentment that comes from making a big breakfast on a snowy morning is special, one of those moments of deep reflection and appreciation. A sense of right-place-right-time, a joy and gratitude in the meat and vegetables we raised, and a lack of stress because the snow meant I couldn’t do much outside farmwork. Though there are always things that need doing, snow days give a sense of permission for play and a shifted focus from the usual pace of a spring morning in the heart of planting season.
It can be so hard to make the time to cook proper meals, especially during peak seasons, and I have to remind myself that eating good food is a big part of the reason for the work I do. It’s so easy to get in a mindset of prioritizing the work of growing things that I lose sight of the ultimate purpose for doing so. I try to remember that food is medicine, and that it takes time and energy to honor the process of life and death, to eat well and pay respects to the plants and animals we raise.
We slaughtered a pig and a sheep on Tuesday, and after the carcasses cooled in the walk-in refrigerator at a friend’s farm, we went down on Friday for cut-up and package. Butchering is a skill that I have not learned well yet, and it was an amazing experience to spend a day in deep friendship and shared effort to turn carcasses into usable packages of meat that will provide many meals for our families. Many hands made light work as we cut chops, roasts, and deboned meat for grinding into a blend of pork and lamb sausage.
The many aspects of this farm life are interconnected and mutually dependent. It takes so many skill sets, so much connectedness and community that I feel a deep sense of reverence and gratitude for the process. I’m grateful to know so many incredible people, and for all of the teachers who have given time and effort to show me how to work, to live, to be. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!
