Comparison
Friends,
Now that I have finally settled down at the Petit Ane Bleu, I think it is time for a comparitive look at the two locations I have visited thus far. Let’s begin with the Moulin Ruel.
If you have not been following the blog for a long period of time, the Moulin Ruel is the name of the first farm I visited this summer. In retrospect, the best way to describe it would be a small, hobby farm owned by an older couple. With the money earned from a retirement pension and a part-time job, Christine and Alain Blancart raise a small number of animals and grow an equally small garden. THe goal of the overall operation is a movement towards economic self-sufficiency. By growing vegetables, making cheese and jam, repairing old cars, and building their own animal lodgings, the couple avoids excessive consumption and reduces their overall ecological impact.
In comparison, the Petit Ane Bleu is a much larger farm coupled with a tourism business that allows Denis and Hind Bigliardi (a much younger couple with children) to live. Originally, the farm was an organic fruit and vegetable producer, but when a few difficult years ruined their crops and finances, the couple decided to focus on a donkey-guided hiking company that earns enough money to keep the farm going. Today, the produce grown is devoted to personal consumption, feeding clients, selling homemade jam, and maintaining the animals. Thus, the farm does represent a functional organic farm even if the funding comes from the side business.
One other crucial distinction is that the Petit Ane Bleu is part of a “table d’hôte” or “host’s table” organization which brings customers to the farm to share homecooked meals, to exchange conversation, and to learn about organic farms. Often, a hike includes several days of travel with a stop at a different “host’s table” each night. In this sense, the Petit Ane Bleu may have a larger societal impact because it reaches out to a naive clientele and show them the joys, tastes, and difficulties of the profession.
Considering the tourist-driven aspect of this farm, I must admit that I was quite upset when I first discovered the client-focused goal of the farm. Fortunately, I am beginning to realize that the lesson this farm (and Alain Blancart’s pension) embody is that organic farming is quite expensive and requires a lot of work. For it to succeed, the consumers themselves must be willing to accept a high price to help small farmers compete against massive agribusiness firms. Thus, for us, it means we need to devote a bigger portion of our income to our food budget, a trend that many healthier societies show. With luck, the joy of tasting a true vine-ripened tomatoe or a cut of meat from a grass-fed cow will be enough to persuade some, but a larger movement needs to occur and that requires a bit more reflection on my part. To begin, however, this summer while you have the chance, try to taste a true, locally and organically produced food and let me know what you think.
Yours,
Andrew
July 8th, 2009 at 1:08 pm
Hi Andrew,
Looks like you’re more than holding up–glad it’s going so well!
I don’t know if you have even a second to read anything, so just in case I thought you might find interesting this story about other students doing work this summer that echoes yours:
www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/dining/24interns.html
Cheers, KB
July 9th, 2009 at 3:16 am
Andrew, I hadn’t been back to read your blog for a bit, but I did tonight, and I continue to enjoy your accounts of your adventures (and to be impressed at how well written the entries are – you really give a vivid sense of the experience!). I have also enjoyed your reflections, and your arguments for living/eating differently are very convincing. Because of my time in France, I tend to eat the way you describe – I almost never eat processed food, and particularly for fruits and vegetables, I try to eat locally and what’s in season. My father frequently mentioned how he only tasted oranges at Christmas, and how apples were much better in his youth. And you’re absolutely right – farm-grown local tomatos never taste anything like the ones in stores, and apples from a local orchard likewise. It’s unfortunate that Americans insist on eating all things in any season; that’s what’s responsible for tasteless Acme tomatos and apples. And eating seasonally is more interesting, I find – I get excited when Lancaster County strawberries come on the market, or New Jersey blueberries, because they actually add something to my life rather than being just fuel to make me feel full. The only downside to all this is, as I think you mentioned, that locally-grown or organic small-farmed food is much more expensive than the Acme alternatives; when I go to Whole Foods or the Ardmore Farmers’ Market, I tend to spend a lot more than I would at Acme. It’s worth it, but because of what I do in life, I have the disposable income to splurge a bit. It seems to me that those with less income than I, particularly in these parlous economic times, have no other choice but to buy cheaper supermarket processed foods. It’s also hard to find time to cook if you’re working two jobs to make ends meet; processed foods are easier. And because our culture is so dominated by the falsehoods of the food industry – where for every claim of “less fat”, there’s hidden sugar or salt or chemical added to the food in question, or where “organic” is a fairly loose term – I often feel pessimistic about how we can get back to a more sane approach to food. It would also help if Americans didn’t associate quantity with worth – any more, when I go out to eat, I divide the portions to take half home, because the sizes are so exaggerated. That’s another thing I value about the French way of life – that they believe in small portions and “slow food”, and cooking methods that allow the flavors to come out. A generalization, I guess – I don’t know much about this, but I gather that French food habits as a whole are being “Americanized” more and more. I’m glad there are outposts such as you are describing, and what you’re learning and communicating will, I fervently hope, change the thinking of your generation; I think it’s probably too late for mine to do anything but in small ways. Sorry to ramble; just random thoughts. I’ll keep reading.