Category: Features

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Home Sweet Home in Oklahoma

Brad and Kelly Claggett with their daughter Autumn. (Jennifer Houseman)

Out in this part of America that is not quite the South and not quite the Ozarks, where the land is flat and the people free-spirited, Kelly and Brad Claggett are finally fulfilling their longtime dream after years of hard work.

When they first moved to this 60-acre property in Grove, Oklahoma, around 2009, Kelly recalled telling her husband that she could imagine hosting weddings and events on the bucolic grounds. “The space is beautiful and I don’t want to enjoy it on my own,” she had said, as they looked out onto a small pond.

(Jennifer Houseman)

At the time, she could sense that the property could be turned into a space that was welcoming and safe. More than a decade later, the dream has come true. In the fall of 2020, the couple opened The Local Farm to Table, allowing guests to book lunch and dinner parties on its premises, with Kelly cooking up family recipes and her takes on comfort food. Ingredients and meats are sourced locally whenever possible. Meals are always served family-style, with guests encouraged to disconnect from their phones. In a small town, word travels fast. This fall, bookings were already full through the end of the year.

As Kelly was thinking about the family members and friends who supported her and Brad throughout the years, tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so grateful,” she said. 

(Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)
(Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)

Coming Together

Kelly grew up in Minnesota, learning to cook and bake from “very confident women” in her family who showed her the ropes, she said. It was a “traditional, generational thing” to pass on those skills. She recalls big family gatherings nearly every weekend—her grandmothers had a total of 20 children. When the family went out camping, the men hunted game and brought back the kill; then the women butchered the animal and cooked the meat over an open flame. Family dinners were boisterous affairs, with the men talking and laughing as the women prepared dishes in the kitchen and children played. Men and women performed their duties “out of love,” Kelly said, “not because it was an expectation.”

She wanted to re-create that experience for people: to provide a place where people could gather with family and loved ones and cherish their time together. In 2018, Kelly invited a group of her best friends—all who shaped her in some way—to the property for a dinner party. Brad had built two wooden tables, while Kelly strung up lights and decorated the space. They sat by the fire, drank wine, and took photos. After that, Kelly told Brad, “This is where my heart is.” But finances, schooling, and other ventures—including raising poultry and running a food truck that traveled to local events serving burgers, tacos, and other light fare—indicated that the timing wasn’t quite right yet. 

 

Melissa Hunter and the Smiths—Stefany, Reid, and Mason— provided the furniture and design for Local Farm to Table.(Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, it allowed the Claggetts to reflect on what they really wanted to do with their time. During the pandemic, people were told they couldn’t be together with loved ones, and they feared social gatherings, Kelly said. She felt she needed to create “an inviting place during a super-scary time,” where “people can feel safe and enjoy each other again.”

The Local Farm to Table was thus born. 

Brad, who teaches at a local college, always wanted to create a business together with Kelly. From the time they met at 22 and 19, respectively, he was enamored with the way Kelly worked confidently around the kitchen. Nearly 18 years later, Brad is ecstatic that he can help Kelly realize her passion—while raising their 2-year-old daughter, Autumn.

“It takes sacrifice, time, persistence—as with everything,” Brad reflected. He thinks back to the years of struggling through the financial crisis, of juggling grad school and running a day care business with Kelly, of naysayers who doubted them. “You have to overcome people who are against you. … It forces you to choose to love those people too,” he said.

(Jennifer Houseman)

A Community

The Local Farm to Table started with just a dozen people gathered at the table on the Claggetts’ deck. Then, to accommodate growing demand—date nights, birthday parties, movie nights, and weddings, ranging from groups of 2 to 40 people—the couple began setting up yurts on the property. They soon outgrew the yurts too, especially as inclement weather sometimes forced them to cancel bookings. So they decided to remodel a barn that existed on the original property when Brad’s father, affectionately called “Pop” by all who know him, purchased it. Brad is excited to soon start creating new furniture in his woodworking shop for the expansion. They’re thinking of building a pavilion, possibly getting a pizza oven, and maybe setting up overnight stays on the property one day.

Kelly and Brad’s group of friends who helped make The Local Farm to Table a reality. (Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)

A group of friends and local producers make the experience possible: Brecka, who operates a kitchen store in the downtown area of Grove, supplies the tableware. Kim, who arranges flowers and Kelly says is able to know what she wants “like she’s in my brain,” Kelly said. Holly, a baker who caters special desserts for Local Farm to Table, has known Kelly for over 15 years; while Reed and Stephany, who are the contractors who helped design the space, are “like family.” There’s also an Amish friend from whom Kelly regularly buys pantry samples and gets baking tips. Small-scale farmers like Bobby Alfaro supply the meat—she swears that giving her pigs belly rubs makes the meat taste better.

(Tatsiana Moon for American Essence)

Love

It can be hard to balance work and family while running a small business. But it’s clear that the Claggetts’ love for each other keeps them going. They named their daughter after their favorite season because they got closer in the fall of 2002, while hanging out on a pumpkin farm where Brad worked at the time. They plan to name the farm on the property Autumn Acres, where they currently raise several Scottish Highland cows and a horse named Scarlet.

While reminiscing about their wedding, which took place in 2007 in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, they had an epiphany. The couple had invited a small group of family and friends to a cabin in the woods and held a party underneath a covered deck—just like the dinners they’re currently hosting. “It was exactly like this!” Kelly said, with a similar array of hodgepodge chairs. Amid the chaos of wedding day, no one went to pick up the catered food. So Kelly and Brad drove to the caterer in their wedding dress and tux. They laughed at the memory.

“We had no idea 15 years later that we’d be doing this,” Brad said. 

“We wouldn’t change a thing about it,” quipped Kelly.

(Jennifer Houseman)
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Features

Legendary Civil Rights Leader Writes the (Last) Book on Suffering 

John Perkins. (Courtesy of John Perkins)

John Perkins’s hands move with a passion that still fuels him at 91, as he tells his story of suffering and redemption. Like most black families in Mississippi in the 1930s, life was an all-consuming effort to survive. No one can remember Perkins’ exact birthday, but the significance of one early memory has become very clear.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

John was living with his grandmother, a woman who had birthed 19 children of her own before taking in John and his five siblings. Pellagra, a vitamin B3 deficiency, had taken his mother’s life when she was still nursing 7-month-old John. Already-full beds grew fuller. John’s grandmother was supplementing their sharecropping income with bootlegging.

Mississippi had banned alcohol statewide in 1908, a decade before the 18th Amendment to the Constitution prohibited it throughout the nation. Then, Mississippi became the last state to repeal its state prohibition in 1966, three decade after the 21st Amendment had repealed Prohibition nationally.

One day, the sheriff came into the house and claimed he found alcohol. John’s grandmother knew the sheriff had planted it there. When he told her he was going to haul her to jail, her response traveled deep into John’s soul. She said, “If I was a man, I would kick your a__ for thinking that I would go with you and leave these little ones.” Her defense fueled a sense of dignity in John: his grandmother loved him; she had stood up for him against the white sheriff. He knew then that he was worth as much as any other child.

This incident helped counter the reflection of himself that John saw in the eyes of many others: like when he was 12 and had worked hard all day for a white farmer. Instead of the dollar or two he expected to receive at the end of the day, the man dropped just 15 cents into his hand. John knew what would happen, to both himself and his family, if he did what he wanted to do at the time: throw the money on the floor in front of the man. “We would get the reputation of being ‘Uppity Niggers,’ or worse, ‘Smart Niggers,’” Perkins said. But the incident had made him think and ask questions, and he had made a decision. This man, John realized, had the capital, and could make evil decisions about what to do with it; one day, John decided that he, too, would be in a position to make decisions about his own capital.

Perkins left Mississippi in 1947, after his older brother, Clyde—home from serving in World War II—was shot by the police. He died in John’s arms. Perkins found work in a California foundry where, while still a teenager, he helped to form a union. It gave him a taste of the success that united action could bring.

After he was drafted into the Korean War and served two years, John and his bride, Vera Mae, a hometown girl who was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, settled in Monrovia, California. They’d already had five of their eight kids, and were enjoying a lifestyle better than either of them had known growing up.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

Perkins’ life would change drastically, however, when his oldest son, Spencer, was invited to a local Good News Club. Spencer, still in preschool, then invited his dad to church. John went and started reading the Bible for the first time. One Sunday, he heard Romans 6:23: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” He said that verse spoke to his whole life experience. He knew about wages: it was a dime and a buffalo nickel from a white man. And sin—that was oppression. But what about his own sin? 

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

That morning was the culmination of much searching. John said yes to Jesus, had inner peace for the first time, and didn’t look back. “I moved into my new life like I did everything else: as hard as I could,” Perkins said. Soon he felt God calling him back to Mississippi, where he started teaching Bible classes in schools. He and Vera Mae started Mendenhall Ministries, to help break the cycle of poverty and facilitate reconciliation.

The Paradox of Suffering 

In 1964, civil rights issues were heating up in Mississippi. Everyone, black and white, had to take a stand, Perkins said. He led a voter registration drive, and a few years later, organized a boycott.

In 1970, after several Tougaloo College students had been imprisoned for protesting, Perkins went to the jail in Brandon, Mississippi, to bail them out. When he arrived, Mississippi patrolmen had other plans for him. They tortured and beat him and made him mop up his own blood. It’s not something John can talk about easily. During almost two years of unjust court proceedings, he suffered from heart problems, and had much of his stomach removed because of ulcers.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)
(Courtesy of John Perkins)

This led to a faith crisis, which was eventually overcome by individual acts of kindness and love, coming from both God and man: like the white doctor who sat by his bed reading and caring for him and wouldn’t leave until John was asleep. Years later, the arms of a white chaplain would hold him together after hearing the news that Spencer, not yet 50, hadn’t survived a heart attack. “We wash one another’s wounds,” John says quietly.

Perkins has since written 17 books, but not alone. “I’ve been so blessed in my life to have so many people who have given me the help I need. This whole lifetime of ministry has been with friends God has put into my life. It’s a teamwork.”  He calls his last three books, his manifesto: the truths he has learned in his 90-plus years, and what he hopes will live on after him.

His first book, “One Blood: Parting Words to the Church on Race and Love,” was published when he was 88. “We are one blood; science has already proven that.” And when we are born again into the family of God, he added, we are also brothers and sisters in the faith.

Book two came after Perkins was asked by a college student how he could make a difference in the world. “Become friends with God, and be friends with each other,” John answered, and then unpacked this response in “He Calls Me Friend: The Healing Power of Friendship in a Lonely World.”

In September 2021, Perkins’ last book was released: “Count it All Joy: The Ridiculous Paradox of Suffering.” This book describes his journey through months of mysterious pain, morphine, and two hospital stays, until the source of the problem was finally found. Behind layers of scar tissue that had grown where doctors had operated following his attack in the Brandon jail, cancer was growing.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

Perkins had already beaten cancer twice before he reached 90. The incredible pain of this third journey, however, was different, he wrote. He’d had words for the other pain. But with this one, came the unexpected, and John asked the Lord to give him a little more time. There were things he hadn’t been able to say before: like the value of lamentation. “Lament is an old word that has been given a fresh new meaning in this generation,” Perkins said. “We need to let people know that God allows us to lament. We don’t have to act like we’re strong when we’re falling apart. Life is hard. And it becomes harder when we don’t have safe places to share our grief and our struggles without being made to feel like we’re not strong enough.”

And the paradox in this last book: Perkins makes the case that suffering is good, and it is sometimes God’s way of getting our attention and preparing us for His purposes. He speaks with authority after a journey that has borne the pain of breaking down barriers. His conclusion is a surprising closing hymn: True joy is formed in the crucible of suffering. It isn’t experienced alone. “When I cry out to Him, He meets me right there in the place of my pain. And He feels what I feel. He hurts when I hurt. I believe that,” Perkins declared.

John and Vera Mae, with the support of friends, have started many ministries that focus on Christian community development, multiethnic church planting, health care, education, legal assistance, low-income housing development, and more. It’s clear that John hasn’t let his third-grade education hold him back.

In 1969, his testimony before the McGovern Select Committee on Nutrition and Human Needs led to The Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants and Children (WIC), a government program that helps feed millions of low-income women, infants and children each month. He has served in an advisory role under several U.S. presidents. He is an international speaker on reconciliation, leadership, and community development. Sixteen colleges have recognized his life and work with honorary doctorate degrees. Three colleges have established John Perkins Centers.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

John, now Dr. Perkins, still has hope for the future. “The Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution are the greatest statements on human dignity,” he often says. While America hasn’t always lived up to it, for the first time, Perkins now sees “a generation that values differences. One of the greatest statements in the world” he says, “is ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.’”

Although he’s quick to clarify that he’s still alive, and “still listening,” Perkins has imagined what it’s going to be like when he meets his mother on the other side. He will borrow the words of Thurgood Marshall. “I’m going to say, ‘Momma, I tried. I did what I could with what I had.’” Her response will likely be the second “Well done” that John hears.

(Courtesy of John Perkins)

For more information about John Perkins, and his free video class on living with purpose and passion, visit JohnMPerkins.com

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Features

Learning Through Love and Resilience

(Junhao Su for American Essence)

Karen Framnes is a mother, wife, worker, and ultra long-distance runner who lives with her family—husband, teenage daughter, and their pets—in Rocklin, California, where the San Francisco 49ers football team holds its summer training camp. To say that she tackles many tasks daily understates the case greatly. For Karen and her better half, Kjell, rearing Olivia, their 14-year-old special-needs daughter, is a full-time task. Thus, achieving and sustaining a life-work balance is an everyday reality that Karen navigates, rain or shine. On the surface, her balancing act might look like a parent-guided effort of huge proportions. However, below the surface, Olivia is a big player. In fact, she is a driving force of inspiration in the daily life of Karen, who describes Olivia as “feisty” and “strong.”

Olivia displayed her resolute characteristics soon after birth. As a newborn, she battled not one but multiple life-threatening medical issues—every parent’s worst fear. They required many surgeries and therapies, according to Karen. She marvels at Olivia’s resolve to overcome the obstacles that life has put in her way. “Olivia has overcome tremendous physical and mental challenges due to her disabilities,” Karen says. It is Olivia’s responses to her diagnoses, which include cerebral palsy, that continue to inspire Karen.

“This girl has dug very deep to overcome them,” Karen says. “She has fought meningitis, stabilizing bad gastrointestinal issues, overcoming very scary breathing apnea, and other health issues. Olivia has this great strength and fights hard to thrive. She is strong and gets back up quickly. It truly inspires me to dig deep to overcome my own challenges—some have been pretty petty compared to hers.” “Quit” is not a word in Olivia’s vocabulary.

Human beings learn from each other in varied ways. Kids learn from parents. Children also teach parents. Olivia’s resilience to survive against steep odds has rubbed off on Karen in ways big and small, in and out of their home. In part, Olivia’s resolve teaches Karen to roll with the punches that life delivers. On the job, for instance, Karen’s employer might give her an unexpected deadline to finish a project by the end of the business day. Some people might go ballistic in such a scenario. That is not Karen’s response. She accepts the workplace task in stride, seeing it as a minor blip compared with the health and wellness challenges of Olivia’s life.

As an ultra long-distance runner competing in trail races up to 100 miles long, such as the Headlands Hundred that she finished in 37 hours and 37 minutes last August, Karen reaches deep down into herself to flesh out the energy to finish. She has run scores of such races—not that they get easier, as the weather, for instance, can and does change, forcing runners to adapt. Marathoners talk about hitting a wall of fatigue near the end of their 26.2-mile race. By way of comparison, Karen runs nearly four times that distance in her ultra-long race competitions, pushing past fatigue, mentally and physically, to stay on track and finish her races. Thoughts of Olivia battling and overcoming health issues, beginning from infancy, serve as inspiration as Karen runs mile after mile on the ultramarathon course. Life is not a sprint but a long-term project; parenting a special-needs child is a little like the ultramarathons that Karen runs.

Identifying and setting familial priorities is also part of Karen’s life. “Luckily, our son is older and has his own home,” Karen says. “Olivia is the priority in the house. It is a balancing act trying to explain to her to be patient and wait for attention.” Karen knows that her daughter’s behavior is only partly disability-related. It is a case of “cannot and will not”—her daughter can’t do some tasks and simply won’t do others. It is not one or the other, but both. That is easy to say but less so to cope with, day after day, as many adults with disabled kids experience. “Part of it is related to her condition and part is related to her being a teenager,” Karen says.

Olivia’s diagnoses include intellectual disabilities. Karen has a unique approach to help her daughter: she encourages Olivia’s affection for pets. “Olivia loves our dogs. I sometimes feel that is her priority, which warms my heart.” Emphasizing such positive interactions that help Olivia—that is what it takes to make her, Kjell, and Karen move forward. It is a one-step-at-a-time endeavor, a little like finishing an ultramarathon.

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Entrepreneurs Features

From Dog Poop to Electricity

Jendell Duffner is the owner behind central Ohio-based pet waste removal company Green Scoop Pet Waste Management. Founded in 2013, they are the first business in the country to collect pet waste and turn it into energy. According to their website, over 10 million tons of dog waste end up in landfill sites across the country. The company provides residents of central Ohio with a means to lower landfill waste while also supporting alternative sources of energy production. One of Duffner’s greatest achievements is producing many jobs. Since starting the company, she has helped many families earn a living doing a job that they respect. 

Through their Pet Poo Recycling Program, the company provides buckets and supplies to interested pet owners who then fill up their bucket with pet waste and have it collected on a weekly or biweekly basis by Green Scoop Pet employees. The waste is then deposited at a bio facility which collects the methane and converts it into energy in the form of electricity and natural gas. Some of the energy is used to supply power to the processing plant while the rest is fed back to the grid. The solids left behind undergo an extensive cleaning process, removing harmful pathogens and bacteria before being sent to farmers to be used as fertilizer for their fields. 

Duffner also provides an option for cat litter recycling. The company supplies a special cat litter made from locally processed grain in a pellet form that owners can use to compost their cat’s waste and turn it into energy! 

‘I’ve Always Been Passionate About the Environment’

Image courtesy of Duffner.

While in high school, she embarked on an environmental project which led to her convincing the mayor into purchasing a wood chipper for their small town in Bucyrus, Ohio rather than burn piles of branches that fell during the ice storms. 

After college, she continued her environmental studies, receiving training in naturalism and tree identification. With each new experience, Duffer realized she wanted to do more.

She always wished to start her own environmental business but didn’t want to compete with larger franchises. She settled on pet waste recycling but needed to come up with a unique angle—something that was missing from the businesses of the time. Having a background in environmental science was a huge advantage for her as it meant that she had a solid foundation. 

Duffner’s vision was to start up a business that turned pet waste into energy. During her research, she came across two existing companies that composted pet waste and used the output to generate fuel for energy. Inspired, Duffner went about incorporating that into her business model. However, it wasn’t what she had hoped it would be. Profit margins were incredibly low and the energy required to break down the pet waste was exceptionally high, resulting in great financial setbacks for her company. 

Learning From Her Mistakes

“As a business, you need to be able to make a profit to make a difference. And you need to be able to pay people properly,” she said. To offset the high operating cost, one would need a steady stream of customers, which would mean collecting a lot of waste. “It takes a lot of knowledge to use the right ingredients and recipes to make them [pet waste] break down on a timely basis,” said Duffner. “So for it to break down, you have to have a really expensive in-vessel.” The basic equipment itself tends to cost upwards of 200,000 USD, making it not the most cost-effective model for most small businesses. One needs to also ensure that the temperature in the in-vessel is high enough—131° F or greater, to destroy harmful pathogens present in pet waste—a very precise operation that can only be achieved through commercial means and techniques. For Duffner, it meant changing her business model to better suit her requirements. 

Despite the many difficulties and financial losses, Duffner realized that she could still make a difference without having to be directly involved in the composting. “I can do what I can, still make a profit while offering a good service, and still be able to grow my business,” she said. For her, the main focus was always about providing the best possible service to customers to ensure profitability which would, in turn, allow her to provide jobs for her employees. “Make sure you’re offering a service that they value. And then you integrate things from there. That’s how you can continue to make a difference. Not by trying to completely change every aspect of things that currently work,” she said.

‘Producing Jobs Is my Biggest Joy’

Duffner’s biggest source of joy is the ability to provide jobs to people. This effort has now become the main focus of her operation. “I have employees that depend on me for paychecks,” said Duffner. “When you have an employee come up to you and say thank you, because of you, I was able to buy a dependable vehicle. Because of you, I was able to move out of my sister’s house and get my own place. Thank you so much for giving me a job. That’s what really matters.”

She advises that the best way for people to help the environment is through reusing products. If you have a lot of plastic bags or you know someone at work who is getting rid of them, ask them to save them for you. Then, you could use it to pick up dog waste or to hold your produce at the grocery store. This is a more sustainable and environmentally friendly solution to purchasing more bags.

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Features

Allan Benton: A Tennessee Country Ham Legend

Allan Benton outside Benton's Smoky Mountain Country Hams in 2014. (Sara Wood/Southern Foodways Alliance)

In a small roadside smokehouse in Madisonville, Tennessee, Allan Benton crafts what top chefs across the United States consider the gold standard of country ham and bacon. The potent, provocative smell of hickory smoke draws in any visitor—and anyone who tries the finished product.

Since Benton started the business 47 years ago, Benton’s Smoky Mountain Country Hams has become a Southern legend. His dry-cured and smoked hams and thick-cut bacon, made by hand the way his grandparents did, can be found on the menus of leading chefs throughout the South and beyond, including David Chang and Tom Colicchio in New York and Chris Shepherd in Houston. The business has been featured in foodways exhibits at the Tennessee State Museum in Nashville and the Southern Food and Beverage Museum in New Orleans, and Benton was inducted into the James Beard Foundation’s Who’s Who of Food and Beverage in America in 2015.

But despite all the recognition, Benton still describes himself—in his thick Southern drawl—as “a country hillbilly just trying to make a great quality product.”

Allan Benton in front of racks of hanging country hams. (Sara Wood/Southern Foodways Alliance)

Rural Roots and a Family Recipe

Benton was born and raised in rural Scott County, Virginia. His family farmed and ate what they raised, including heritage-breed hogs that were allowed to naturally forage for their food, growing fat on acorns and other nuts in the Southern Appalachian forest. Benton’s grandparents cured country hams in a log smokehouse behind their house.

After earning a master’s in psychology from Middle Tennessee State University, Benton intended to work as a high school counselor. But when he saw the salary range, he decided owning his own business would provide more financial security.

In 1973, he approached Albert H. Hicks, a dairy farmer who had been curing and selling country hams out of a small building since 1947. Hicks, nearing retirement, agreed to lease his space to Benton, who started curing his own hams using the recipe he learned from his grandparents.

Benton researched everything he could about the curing process and running a business, and credits Hicks for being a helpful mentor. In 1978, Benton moved to his current location in Madisonville, off Highway 411 North.

An archival photo from Benton’s. (Sara Wood/Southern Foodways Alliance)

Building a Brand by Word of Mouth

Benton has never advertised, instead relying on word of mouth. But the business was by no means an overnight success.

The first 25 years were a struggle to keep the doors open, Benton said. Customers were used to buying mass-produced pork products, not heritage meats, but Benton stayed true to his mission focusing on quality products and his family recipe.

For years, the business stayed small and local—no e-commerce, not even a credit card machine. Even now, Benton’s still has only around 20 employees.

In 2000, Benton’s son, Darrell, now a physician in Knoxville, built his father a website while he was attending college. “No one will buy my dang products from a computer!” Benton told him. The day after the site launched, Benton’s had seven orders. He was flabbergasted.

Benton’s big break came when John Fleer, then executive chef at Blackberry Farm, a luxury inn nearby in Walland, Tennessee, started placing orders.

“I had been at Blackberry Farm for a short time in 1993 and was searching for locally crafted food products. Benton’s wasn’t far from Blackberry Farm,” said Fleer, who now owns Rhubarb restaurant in Asheville, North Carolina. “I called up Allan Benton and asked for samples. He brought them over in an old blue pickup with a cab on the back.”

Benton said: “Back when chef Fleer called me up, I had no idea what Blackberry Farm was. I thought it was just a country cafe. Was I ever amazed!”

“The coolest thing was inviting Allan and his wife, Sharon, to Blackberry Farm for the first time for dinner, and having him see us using his product in ways he would not have imagined,” Fleer said. “One dish I remember he really liked [was] our wild sturgeon wrapped in his aged ham and seared.”

As Blackberry Farm’s reputation grew, it developed a cooking program with visiting guest chefs.

“We’d give all the guest chefs a care package of bacon and ham as a thank you gift,” said Fleer. For some of these chefs, it was their first taste of Benton’s products. Before long, they were appearing on menus outside of the South.

Benton’s Signature Style

Benton’s hams and bacon start with pasture-raised, antibiotic-free pork, sourced from family farms in the Midwest. He uses only heritage pork, older breeds such as Berkshire, Duroc, and Red Wattle, which have more intramuscular fat, similar to European pigs such as Spain’s renowned black Ibérico.

As Benton puts it, “you have to start with something good to make something good.”

The fresh hams are coated with a simple rub of salt, brown sugar, and red and black pepper—Benton’s family recipe—and a scant amount of sodium nitrite to comply with federal food safety guidelines. They’re then hung in a temperature-controlled room and left to dry-cure for anywhere from nine to 30 months, releasing moisture, intensifying in flavors, and taking on a rosy hue. To make his bacon, Benton coats slabs of pork belly with a rub of salt, pepper, and brown sugar by hand, then dry-cures them for an average of 30 days.

“Every product we make is like a barrel of whiskey that needs to be aged a certain amount of time,” said Benton.

Finally, the cured pork belly and hams destined to be hickory-smoked are taken to the smokehouse behind the building for the final touch.

Hanging hams. (Sara Wood/Southern Foodways Alliance)
Slabs of pork belly, destined to become bacon. (Sara Wood/Southern Foodways Alliance)

Chefs and home cooks alike rave about the results.

“When I first tasted Benton’s bacon, I thought, ‘Wow!’ I’d never had anything like it before,” said Chris Shepherd, chef and owner of Georgia James in Houston, Texas. “It gives a depth of flavor and smokiness that’s unmatched—it’s the smokiest bacon you’ll ever eat.”

“In addition to its nice smoke profile, Benton’s bacon is a little thicker and chewier,” said Chris Spear, chef and owner of Perfect Little Bites in Washington, D.C.

As for the country ham? “I’d put Benton’s up there with the finest European charcuterie,” Spear said.

Weathering the Pandemic

Before the pandemic, Benton’s cured between 17,000 and 18,000 hams a year in its 18,000-square-foot building. But with restaurants making up 75 percent of their business, Benton’s main customer base all but disappeared when the COVID-19 pandemic hit. To make matters worse, packinghouses in the Midwest were closed, reducing his source for pork for months.

Since his cured hams take more than a year to produce, Benton had to quickly refocus to selling other meats, such as USDA choice beef tenderloin and steak, which he continues to offer.

“As grocery stores experienced shortages of meat on their shelves, we saw an increase in local foot traffic and e-commerce. We kept our prices low—$4 a pound versus $8 a pound at the grocery stores—to help our customers,” Benton said.

Despite all his success, Benton remains unpretentious and grateful to be in business after 47 years.

“I owe all of my success to my loyal customers, especially to the chefs who use my products on their menus,” he said.

“He’s a good human,” said Shepherd. “The first time I met him, I was visiting Blackberry Farm Brewery in Tennessee, and Allan just walked in the door. I was starstruck. I told him, ‘I’ve been wanting to meet you!’ And he replied, ‘I’ve been wanting to meet you, too!’”

Benton’s Cooking Tips

How does Allan Benton cook his famous hams at home?

“This East Tennessee hillbilly just likes to slice up a piece of one-year-old ham and cook it in a greased skillet for about 12 seconds on each side, and serve it with biscuits and gravy,” Benton said. “Overcooking the ham can result in a tougher, saltier slice.”

“Our aged hams, more than 14 months old, are best served thinly sliced on a charcuterie plate with bread or crackers.”

As for bacon, Benton prefers to cook it in a 350-degree oven for around 16 minutes. For those who prefer pan-frying, he shared advice from his wife, Sharon: “[She] says you have to play with your bacon, turning until crisp. You can’t just leave it in the pan and walk away. Bacon should not be overcooked. You want it to bend a bit without breaking.”

Benton’s Smoky Mountain Country Hams
2603 Hwy. 411 North, Madisonville, Tenn.
423-442-5003
BentonsCountryHams2.com

Melanie Young writes about wine, food, travel, and health. She is the food editor for Santé Magazine, co-host of the weekly national radio show “The Connected Table LIVE!” and host of “Fearless Fabulous You!” both on iHeart.com (and other podcast platforms). Instagram@theconnectedtable Twitter@connectedtable

Categories
Features Generation to Generation

Leidenheimer Baking Company: A 125-Year-Old New Orleans Tradition

Robert J. Whann IV, known as Sandy, and Katherine Whann, fourth-generation members of the family, run the business today. Behind them is a framed photo of George Leidenheimer. (Photograph taken by the Southern Foodways Alliance)

New Orleans is passionate about its bread, especially when it comes to the po-boy. Some say the city’s signature sandwich, usually stuffed with fried oysters, shrimp, roast beef, sausage, or meatballs, isn’t the real deal unless it’s served on a locally baked Leidenheimer loaf.

“The most important part of the po-boy is the bread,” said Joanne Domilise, one of the family members who runs Domilise’s Po-Boy & Bar. “Leidenheimer’s bread has a crispy crust and is light and airy inside. It’s not bready or doughy like a hoagie or submarine. If you don’t have the right bread, it’s just not a po-boy.”

Like Domilise’s, and many other local institutions, the G.H. Leidenheimer (pronounced LYE-den-high-mer) Baking Company is a century-old family food business. It’s been a hub of New Orleans French bread baking for 125 years.

Po-boys made with Leidenheimer’s New Orleans French bread, famed for its thin, crisp crust and light, airy insides. (Courtesy of Leidenheimer Baking Co.)

A Family Legacy

Founder George Leidenheimer immigrated to New Orleans from Deidesheim, Germany in the late 1800s, and established his namesake bakery in 1896. Initially, he made the dark, dense brown breads popular in his homeland. But he found success perfecting lighter French-style breads to complement the local cuisine, which draws from the bounty of the Gulf waters and the city’s Creole and Acadian heritage.

As the nation’s interest in regional American cooking and artisan foods grew over the years, and New Orleans became a tourism hub known for its outstanding restaurants, recognition for Leidenheimer’s distinct breads grew.

Being a local family-run business was also important.

“Family culture is everything in New Orleans,” said Robert J. Whann IV, known as Sandy, a fourth-generation member of the Leidenheimer family. “People return home to this city to be with their families. That’s why it has many multigenerational families who run businesses.”

Whann’s grandmother was George Leidenheimer’s only daughter, Josephine. Her husband, Robert J. Whann Jr., took over the company with his brother, Richard.

Sandy Whann joined the company in 1986, after college, and today, he runs it with his sister, Katherine.

“I’ve been fortunate during my 35-year tenure to work with Katherine to manage the company. My brother-in-law, Mitch, has served as operations manager for 20 years. My son, William, and daughter, Katie, are now also involved with the company.”

Robert J. Whann IV, known as Sandy, and Katherine Whann, in front of a photo of George Leidenheimer. (Photograph taken by the Southern Foodways Alliance)

Whann takes carrying on the family baking tradition seriously. You won’t see a gluten-free loaf coming out of this bakery.

“We produce traditional New Orleans French bread, and we are blessed that we are kept busy doing it. When we are approached about doing something new we have to consider it very carefully. We are not going to jump on the bandwagon and bend to trends,” he said.

Since 1904, Leidenheimer’s baking headquarters have been in a large white brick building on Simon Bolivar Avenue in the central city. Many of the company’s 100 or so employees represent multiple generations.

“Being family-run with many long-tenured employees is a potent combination for success. We have route salesmen who have been with us over 40 years, and many bakery employees for 20 years,” said Whann.

Bakery workers. (Leidenheimer Baking Co. Photo Archives)
The building exterior. (Leidenheimer Baking Co. Photo Archives)

A Time-Honored Process

My mother used to tell me New Orleans’s bread has a unique texture because of the water. Whann acknowledged that the local water has a good pH level for making bread, but explained the time-honored process in further detail.

Leidenheimer’s bread is made with flour, yeast, water, and a little salt and sugar. Lard was removed in the 1960s and replaced by small amounts of soybean oil. The flour is milled from a high-gluten spring wheat, sourced in the Dakotas and shipped to Ardent Mills near Baton Rouge. The company has been milling flour for Leidenheimer’s for 70 years.

“We start with the best ingredients and let time and temperature do their work through natural fermentation,” Whann said. “All our po-boy loaves are hand-stretched. Our bakery workers know by touch when the dough is right, from how much water to add to how long to stretch it to achieve that light consistency.”

Historical photo of the “mixing department.” (Leidenheimer Baking Co. Photo Archives)
Historical photo of the “moulding department.” (Leidenheimer Baking Co. Photo Archives)

Once the dough is ready, the baking process involves copious amounts of steam and monitoring the temperature to achieve just the right texture.

Weather is also an important factor. “New Orleans is an inhospitable place for bakers. We have two seasons: It’s either hot and cold [in the winter] or hot and hotter [in the summer],” Whann said. “Our bakers need to be aware of the weather conditions since the dough is sensitive to atmospheric conditions such as humidity and temperature.

“For French bread, which is inherently light, on a day with 100 percent humidity, it acts like a sponge. We have to bake the bread more to keep its texture. On colder days, we need to bake the bread less.”

Historical photo of the “baking department.” (Leidenheimer Baking Co. Photo Archives)

Legendary Loaves

Leidenheimer produces a small variety of artisan breads, sold locally and distributed nationally. There are three main types:

Its signature pistolet is an oblong loaf with a very crisp crust and a fluffy interior—a texture many compare to cotton candy. Available in different sizes, up to 12 inches long, the pistolet is usually served warm, wrapped in white napkins, at fine dining restaurants like Commander’s Palace and Galatoire’s.

“I can always tell locals from the visitors when our pistolet is brought to the table,” Whann said. While visitors reach for a fork and knife, “locals just grab the bread and tear it apart with their hands to share with their table companions.” Either way, the light-as-air loaf is heavenly slathered with butter.

The po-boy loaf is a 32-inch-long French bread loaf used for the namesake sandwich. Unlike a traditional French baguette, which has tapered ends, a po-boy loaf, like the pistolet, is uniform from end to end.

The muffaletta is a large, round, seeded bread used to make a sandwich by the same name. Another New Orleans icon, the muffaletta sandwich is a savory combination of salami, ham, provolone cheese, marinated olives, and giardiniera, said to have been created in 1906 by Central Grocery in the French Quarter, to feed the Italian immigrants who worked at the nearby dockyards.

Locals Loyal to the Last Crumb

New Orleans has many family-run bakeries known for their signature products, whether cakes, pastries, or breads. But when it comes to New Orleans French bread, loyalists always look to Leidenheimer’s.

“Leidenheimer’s is the only bread in town with that crackly crust. It’s both an art and a science to make it with such consistency,” said Justin Kennedy, general manager and head chef at Parkway Bakery and Tavern. They sell about 2000 sandwiches a day. “We lightly toast our bread to bring out that crunch even more.”

That loyalty transcends distance. At Local Catch Bar and Grill in Santa Rosa, Florida, chef Adam Yellin, a transplant from New Orleans, only uses Leidenheimer bread for the restaurant’s po-boys. “When I was living in New Orleans, we’d squeeze the bread a little and listen for the outside crunch to know it was fresh,” he recalled.

“Good to the last crumb,” is Leidenheimer’s slogan—and it’s true. New Orleanians know to ask for extra napkins and a crumb catcher when they tear apart a pistolet or devour a po-boy. All that crust leaves a beautiful mess of crumbs!

The Po-Boy: Perfect End-To-End

The history of the po’boy explains how the unique loaf for the sandwich was created.

Louisiana-born brothers Bennie and Clovis Martin worked as streetcar conductors before opening Martin Brothers Restaurant in the French Quarter in 1922. In 1929, when the streetcar workers went on strike, the Martin Brothers, sympathetic to the workers’ plight, gave them free sandwiches filled with fried potatoes, gravy, and bits of roast beef on French bread loaves. When a striking worker would come into the restaurant, one of the brothers would call out, “Here comes another poor boy.”

As Whann tells the story: “Back then, the bread was a traditional French baguette with tapered ends. The person who received the middle portion of the sandwich made out like a bandit, but those with the ends were not as fortunate. The Martin Brothers asked a local baker, John Gendusa, to make a 32-inch loaf that could be cut into equal-size sandwiches. No one would be stuck with the ends.” The sizable, shareable sandwich was a hit and became part of the Martin Brothers regular menu.

Now, the ubiquitous sandwich can be found on many menus, from small po-boy shops to fine restaurants throughout New Orleans and beyond.

Melanie Young writes about wine, food, travel, and health. She is the food editor for Santé Magazine, co-host of the weekly national radio show “The Connected Table LIVE!” and host of “Fearless Fabulous You!” both on iHeart.com (and other podcast platforms). Instagram@theconnectedtable Twitter@connectedtable

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Features

Chuck Masek on How to Fight a Battle ‘Against All Odds’

Chuck Masek, author of "At War With the Big Dogs." (Courtesy of Chuck Masek)

Chuck Masek is known as the man who spearheaded the billion-dollar industry of reprocessing single-use medical devices, but when he started out in the medical tech field, in a tiny lab where he spent day in and day out doing things like looking at stool samples under a microscope, he had no inkling life would go in that direction. Being called a “visionary” never sat well with him.

Reprocessing is little known to industry outsiders—essentially it means cleaning and sterilizing a medical device, like an electric scalpel, making it safe for medical use again instead of sending it to the landfill.

“The company was started because I needed a job, and I needed to save the house, that’s all it was,” said Masek.

The story of David is the story of the little boy who defeated a giant with only his stones, his slingshot, and God on his side. That “protection by Providence” made David the symbol of Florence, a little republic that faced countless battles, giants compared to its own history and size.

Masek’s story is definitely a David and Goliath story. Throughout it all, he saw the hand of providence, he said. He also had science on his side.

“I mean, we should have never survived, we should have been trampled by the big companies, we’re talking multibillion-dollar corporations. We were playing in their sandbox and they did not like it, and they did everything they could” to drive newcomers like Masek out of the field. He recounts the endless battles in his memoir “At War With the Big Dogs.” But they made it through.

“I look back in amazement,” he said. “In the process of building Vanguard, certain things had to happen that I didn’t know had to happen, and if it didn’t happen, we’d be out of business. So I know I didn’t do it, I was privileged to lead … the men and women who fought this battle, and it was a bloody battle,” Masek said.

“At War With the Big Dogs” by Chuck Masek. ( (Courtesy of Chuck Masek)

Timing

The first part of Masek’s career is filled with betrayal; as a medical device salesman, he was moving all over the country—19 moves in the first 13 years of his marriage with his wife Marge, with each of his four children born in a different state. He had money, ideas, and business stolen from him.

“I lost everything in a bad business deal in Haiti,” he said. “I was 40 years old, I was a quarter of a million dollars in debt, I had four children age 7 to 13, and we were about to lose the house. It was a hard time. And a lot of times, these things will destroy a marriage, but my Marge, we circled the wagons, and she said, ‘Chuck, this wasn’t your fault.'”

“My wife is from North Dakota, she’s a farmer’s daughter, and she is made of strong stuff. She’s actually the most amazing person in my life, there is not a person in the world that I trust more than her,” he said.

He and Marge are often asked what the secret to their strong marriage is, and they tell people, “Love God first.” They decided that early on, when they both became believers in college.

“If we love God first, then we can love each other. Because if we love each other and we don’t love God, there’s no way the marriage will survive,” he said. Everything God tells you to do is for a benefit, he said, and he may have a lot of rules, but if you actually look at the rules, they’re all good things.

So at his lowest point, but with Marge on his side, Masek only knew that he wasn’t going to let betrayal define his story, and he jumped back into the fray.

The company Masek had lost had done reprocessing of towels, so he already knew about reprocessing, but it was a chance encounter with a nurse and a package on her desk that launched Masek’s next business idea.

It was a suture pack that a small independent company had reprocessed, and Masek was confused because when he sold medical devices, the big manufacturers would reprocess them for free if only the outer layer was opened. Suture packages have an outer portion that is often opened in anticipation of surgery, and an inner, sterile seal that is left intact if not used, Masek said. Then the nurse told him the big manufacturers weren’t doing it anymore, and it likely had something to do with the big scare around the AIDS epidemic. It could have been a liability issue.

Unbeknownst to Masek at the time, two big events had led to where he was now. The Medicare Act of 1965 had made it so that Medicare would reimburse based on the cost of surgery, and nearly overnight, manufacturers started labeling devices “single use” even if they were the same exact glass or carbon fiber device previously considered a reusable device, and it was all up for reimbursement. But then in the 1980s, reimbursement costs were fixed depending on the type of diagnosis, which had hospitals scrambling to cut down costs. And medical devices were now the second-highest cost of surgery.

He started reprocessing devices for hospitals at half the cost of whatever they originally paid for the device.

Masek had two main obstacles now, the “yuck” factor, and the big manufacturers, and he used science to refute each one. The former would be far easier than the latter. First he showed clients that many of these devices were originally meant to be reprocessed and reused, not thrown into landfills after a single use. And the longer he was in business the more data he had, so Masek was able to show that reprocessed devices were far less likely to cause infection than even new devices, because every reprocessed device is tested, and new devices aren’t.

A ‘Win-Win-Win’

Early on, a nurse asked Masek a very prescient question: Aren’t you worried about the Big Dogs getting into the business and squashing you? But that question raised a second one: Why would these big companies reprocess devices for free or for half cost, when they could insist on selling you a new one at full price?

The operation began as a tiny one. Vanguard Medical Concepts was just Masek, Doug Stante rigging up new machines to clean and sterilize devices, and 19-year-old Steve Bernardo writing software to track their data.

But they believed in it and it grew, because they saw it as a win-win-win. Hospitals could cut costs as well as divert thousands of pounds of biomedical waste from the landfills, patients benefited from the cost savings and safe devices, and Vanguard had created hundreds of jobs.

It was when they started getting big that the original device manufacturers began to take notice. First they tried to frame reprocessing as distasteful—but that only gave Vanguard the opportunity to educate clients on how they reprocessed devices and why it was sterile. Then they accused Vanguard of not being FDA-approved, and the FDA said it was because they wouldn’t know where to start in regulating this new industry. Vanguard all but volunteered to become the guinea pigs for regulation, letting FDA regulators poke and prod and ask endless questions in the process of not only proving that reprocessing was safe and beneficial, but could be regulated.

“The manufacturers did many things over the years that were designed to hurt us, but it actually helped us,” he said. But only because they stuck to the science and showed people relentlessly that the science was true.

Masek had successes, but the problem was that the battles seemed endless, and it was shocking the lengths his opponents would go to.

“I was always going for the prize, but when I got there, it wasn’t what I thought it was,” Masek said.

Perspective

You don’t endure countless battles with everything stacked against you—money, power, influence—unless you know you’re doing something right. Masek said his guiding philosophy that God was in charge, not him, led his story.

“I tell people all the time, we don’t own anything, to own something you have to create it and there is only one Creator. We actually manage stuff. Someday I’ll die, and God’ll give it to somebody else to manage, and I’ll be happy about that,” Masek said.

Masek tells his children the most important word is “perspective.”

“All through life, I tell my children, the world never gets it right, it goes the wrong way,” Masek said. “Raising my children, I tell them things are never as good as they seem and they’re never as bad as they seem. Keep your perspective. They’re just things.”

“God is always in control. No matter how bad you think things are, He is still God and he still has control,” Masek said.

Masek said the first reason he went back to revisit all the battles Vanguard weathered in order to write the book was to honor all the good men and women who were a part of it.

“It’s for their children or grandchildren, to tell them what grandma or grandpa did,” he said. “The second reason is for any men and women who find themselves in a battle against all odds, that the fight does not always go to the big dogs.”

Chuck and Marge Masek. (Courtesy of Chuck Masek)
Chuck and Marge Masek. (Courtesy of Chuck Masek)

 

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Features

Freedom to Farm

Martha Boneta, policy advisor, political strategist, and commentator, at her farm Liberty Farm in Paris, Va., on Aug. 8, 2019.

Martha Boneta grew up with a dream of becoming a farmer. When she was a young girl, she would follow along as her grandmother tended to the family’s backyard-turned-garden. The kitchen garden was bountiful enough to feed not just her own family, but the community too. She also learned that their Mount Vernon home stood on land that used to be part of George Washington’s farm.

“I really fell in love with farming and the idea of growing food and feeding your family and others—and I couldn’t wait to have my own family farm,” Boneta said. Her parents probably hoped she would grow out of the dream, she said with a laugh—they wanted Boneta and her two older sisters to pursue higher education for themselves and be able to give back to their communities. So Boneta went to law school, and then she headed for the nation’s capital. But her heart was always with her dream of owning a farm, Boneta said, so she started doing research.

Liberty Farm in Paris, Virginia.

She found a little run-down farmhouse from the 1800s and, despite the tremendous amount of work it would take to return it to a working condition, a snippet of history associated with the property captured her imagination—and would not let go. This Liberty Farm was on land advertised as the site of “Stonewall” Jackson’s bivouac, wherefrom he and his troops marched onward into the First Battle of Bull Run (Battle of First Manassas, as the Confederates would say) and made history. Boneta purchased the property with love, optimism, and enough heart and determination to see the project through. But she would have to fight her own battles there too. “I never dreamed in my whole life I would work so hard; I sacrificed so much just to farm—and to just hit roadblock after roadblock after roadblock,” she said.

Martha Boneta grew up with a dream of becoming a farmer; her grandmother’s kitchen garden overflowed with produce and wonderful flavors, which her family shared with the community.

Property Rights

Boneta is a little famous for having two Virginia state bills named after her, the Boneta Bills I and II, protecting small farms and property rights respectively. When she purchased her old farm in 2006, Boneta had no idea that she would face a decade-long battle against corruption and overregulation, which would have her named one of “America’s Most Amazing Women” by Country Woman Magazine and eventually honored by the Virginia General Assembly for her efforts.

Almost immediately, Boneta was hit with inspection after inspection. Then the inspectors started telling her that she couldn’t use her property for a whole slew of things that were not mentioned in the agreement she had signed when she purchased the property. For example, Boneta earned a violation for selling vegetables to neighbors and had to pause—simply because the signs she put up were handmade. The inspections became hostile, with county inspectors showing up at random times and demanding to look through her property to see if she had made any changes. Boneta knew that the easement she had signed stated that an inspection would only occur if she was suspected of a specific violation.

At that point, it was still a local battle, one that became the subject of the short documentary “Farming in Fear.” Neighbors and other local farmers disapproved of the way that regulators were treating Boneta too—it could well signal overreach into their own affairs next. Boneta herself was shocked that the government seemed to want to shut down her farm; it went against everything she thought she knew—that the small farm is part of the fabric of America, a place where property rights are near sacred—and in Virginia, agriculture is the top industry.

She started digging, and things came to light when she received a letter from her bank in which she learned that someone on the county Board of Supervisors had worked with a third party to attempt to buy her mortgage. A handful of names kept appearing in county documents, and it turned out that individuals in real estate, environmental groups, and the local government all wanted to push her off her land; after all, Boneta had turned a run-down, unused plot of land into a lovely farm and an attractive piece of real estate.

That information alone wasn’t enough to stop the regular harassment of being hit with inspections and violations, including being ordered to stop selling produce during peak farming season—something all local farms did. But things came to a head when Boneta hosted a small birthday party for a little girl—in return she was hit with a $15,000 fine. Her story became nationally known overnight.

As the bullying escalated, Boneta realized that the stakes had risen too. Others experiencing similar underhanded tactics might have given up years earlier; Boneta however, began to understand that she wasn’t just fighting for her own farm, but for a basic American right. “American values are what makes us a beacon of hope—all over the world—and freedom and property rights are inseparable,” Boneta said.

When Martha Boneta discovered Liberty Farm, it was a run-down farmhouse from the 1800s, advertised as a one-time bivouac site for “Stonewall” Jackson and his troops.

“I grew up in a hard-working family where, you know, my mom and my dad told us that if you work really hard, you can be anything you want here in the United States of America,” Boneta said. “Doesn’t matter where you come from, doesn’t matter what your socioeconomic background is, doesn’t matter the color of your skin or what you believe in—if you work really hard, no matter what, you can achieve your dream.”

“My faith in God, my family, my friends, and my love for this country [kept me going],” Boneta said. “Literally 10 years—most people would probably give up because of the sacrifice … if it wasn’t for those things, it would be very, very difficult.”

In the end, she prevailed. With a spotlight on the unfair treatment of Boneta and her farm, she spurred legislative change that resulted in the two Boneta Bills. She was asked to share her story all over the country and, although she was terrified at first, the hundreds of people who came to thank her for standing up for freedom have spurred her on. When Boneta is not on her farm, she speaks and lends her policy expertise on property rights, trade, small business, and other topics all over the country; she also serves on the boards of various small farm associations and foundations. “It’s kind of serendipity that it would be called Liberty Farm, and then it would ultimately become a place that people all over the country, really all over the world, view as a place of liberty because of the battle we had there,” Boneta said.

“I muck stalls, I fix fences, I collect eggs —it’s not glamourous work but it is so fulfilling,” Boneta said.

Agritourism

An hour out from Washington, in Paris, Virginia, Boneta keeps bees, raises a variety of animals, and grows vegetables sustainably, trying to replicate the robust flavors and textures from her grandmother’s garden. “I muck stalls, I fix fences, I collect eggs—it’s not glamorous work but it is so fulfilling,” Boneta said. “But I’ll tell you, at the end of the day, everything I want to know about politics—you can learn on a farm.”

In recent years, there has been a growing awareness and interest in where our food comes from, and even more so, at least in terms of awareness, after pandemic-related supply chain shutdowns have resulted in some grocery store shelves remaining unusually bare. Recent circumstances have perhaps even given the general public a glimpse of how broad regulations can prevent nimble solutions. While regulations tend to hurt small farms more than the big ones (which can absorb the extra costs), during these socially distant times, small family farmers have gone on with business as usual, Boneta said.

“In many ways, the small farmer, the small producer, was picking up where Big Ag—big commercial enterprises—couldn’t … [because] they’re shipping their food across the nation and to different parts of the world,” she said, while “the small family farmer largely sells to the local community,” she said. “I support big agriculture and small agriculture 100 percent—that’s the American Dream, right? to be able to be as big as you can. At the same time, there is something really special about being able to drive up to a family farm and actually see the chickens that lay your eggs.”

It took ten years, but with faith and support, Boneta won her battles against overregulation and government corruption on the 65-acre Liberty Farm.

Families with children often visit Liberty Farm; holding warm eggs is a highlight for youngsters, especially when they’re sparkly and green emu eggs.

Small farms have notoriously slim profit margins, so every farmer knows they have to be creative to keep the farm running. One of the most popular ways to do this, Boneta said, is through agritourism. It creates a positive cycle where people come to understand and appreciate small farms, and farmers grow their customer bases—often through classic American activities like exploring corn mazes, visiting pumpkin patches, or picking apples. Families visit and bring their children, who get all excited seeing that new eggs are warm, funny-colored (green and sparkly if they come from an emu), and have natural, protective membranes on the outsides.

Corporations send people to Liberty Farm too; sometimes there are team-building exercises that take place on Boneta’s farm. She’s also extended the offer to sweat and muck stalls for politicians in Washington—and some have taken her up on it. “People want to experience a working farm!” Boneta said.

“Ninety-nine percent of the activity that happens on these small family farms is through word of mouth, because small producers are not spending a lot of money on advertising, they’re putting it back into the land,” she said. “Family comes, friends come, they experience it, they have a good time, and they tell their friends—it’s still the old-school way of doing things.”

Boneta has seen it hold especially true for people who live and work in urban environments, particularly over the past year, when people who felt a bit too cooped up have come out to small farms like hers and breathed sighs of relief.

“People wanted to be close to the land, and be around animals—and it was just a really wholesome, healthy thing to do,” she said. Children who miss being in school and playing team sports have taken the opportunity to run around in the countryside. Friends and strangers alike have shared their funny, heartwarming, or heartbreaking stories about what they experienced as a result of the pandemic.

“And I think there is just a basic human need to want to be around other people,” said Boneta. “A couple came, and one of their parents was dying from cancer, and they weren’t allowed to see her … because of COVID—they weren’t able to be with one of the elderly parents, and so your hearing stories like that was heartbreaking. But it also creates a sense of community where we’re able to console each other and help each other.

Martha Boneta keeps bees, grows vegetables, and raises a variety of animals at Liberty Farm in Paris, Virginia.

“Something that all Americans share, no matter what their politics are, what they believe in, the color of your skin—at the end of the day we all have to eat,” she said. Small farmers support each other as well; Boneta knows her neighbors, which include a family farm that goes back six generations, several apple orchards, many cattle farms, and more.

“The small family farmer is really still the backbone of our nation, it really helped build our country, and we want to keep them around and have food variety; … by having small producers you get the beauty and symphony of foods,” she said. “I just want to keep it alive and going for a long time.”

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Features Kindness in Action

Volunteers to the Rescue

Firefighters-in-training, or "probies," Kelli Maher (L) and Kiara Santos, of the South Hempstead Fire Department in Long Island, N.Y. (Dave Paone)

Ray Preziosi is a cinematographer in the motion picture industry. But when a house is on fire in his town of Rosendale, New York, he exchanges his light meter for a firehose. Preziosi is a volunteer firefighter.

Bill Malone is an administrator and adjunct science and math professor at St. John’s University in Queens, New York. But when one of his neighbors in the Long Island village of Malverne, New York, is having a heart attack, he swaps his calculator for a defibrillator. Malone is a volunteer emergency medical technician (EMT).

In both cases, the operative word is “volunteer.”

While big cities have full-time, career first responders who are paid with tax dollars, most suburban and rural communities rely completely on unpaid personnel for both fire and ambulance services. According to the National Fire Protection Association, 67 percent of first responders in the United States are volunteers.

Preziosi has been one for 46 years. Even as a child, he gravitated toward fire service. He tricked out his bicycle by attaching a shampoo bottle to act as a fire extinguisher and a garden hose to act as a fire hose. When his father dropped a cigarette butt on the ground, Preziosi would “respond” to the “fire” by hopping on his bike in the garage, rushing to the spigot, connecting the hose, and putting out the cigarette butt.

Preziosi joined the North Massapequa Fire Department on Long Island at age 22 and served for 22 years, until he relocated to Southern California in 1997. During his four years there, there was no volunteer department for him to join. Preziosi recalled watching the fire department in Arcadia, California, screeching through an intersection, doing what he’s done countless times. “I practically burst into tears,” he said.

Malone is in his 45th year of volunteer service. While most departments combine fire and ambulance, Malverne has two separate units. He decided to join the ambulance corps at age 18, in 1976. He was inspired to join (in part) because “Emergency!,” a popular television series at the time, glorified first responders.

45-year-veteran-volunteer Bill Malone. (Dave Paone)

Volunteer fire departments on Long Island have been around for 100 years. Almost the entire time, they’ve been one big boys’ club. That’s changing. Kelli Maher and Kiara Santos, both college students, recently joined the one in South Hempstead, New York. Maher is a full-fledged EMT and a firefighter-in-training, called a “probie.” A short time ago, female volunteer firefighters on Long Island didn’t exist.

Santos and Maher have known each other since they were toddlers. Both their fathers are firefighters, and they played with the other children of volunteers at department picnics and Christmas parties when they were little.

For Santos, who’s also an EMT and a firefighter probie, volunteering is a true family affair. She’s the third generation to do so, as her grandfather was a member of the Valley Stream, New York, Fire Department, and her brother is a member of the South Hempstead one as well. It’s pretty much the same thing for Maher. Her younger brother joined South Hempstead this summer, her father is a life member and fire commissioner of the district, and she’s dating the department’s lieutenant.

The recurring theme among young volunteers is that their fathers set an example. “Ever since I was little, my dad’s always instilled in me and my brothers—and even friends that we brought around—always do the right thing, to help people, see-something-do-something type stuff, and I just thought the fire department was a great example of that,” said Maher.

Every volunteer understands that service is a solid commitment. That means if they sit down for Thanksgiving dinner, and a call comes in, they have to drop what they’re doing and go. They understand this, as do their spouses. Only once in Malone’s 40 years of marriage did he receive a call while being intimate with his wife.

As a first responder, there’s the emotional toll of the job. Malone uses a defense mechanism to distance himself from the pain and suffering that’s literally in his hands.

“I kind of look at them as they’re patients, they’re a task at hand, that I have to take care of, and then I move on from there,” he said. “As cold and heartless as that sounds, that’s the way you have to do it.” Malone said there were times “I came home and I cried myself to sleep,” but that number is very small. (As of July 11, Malone has been on 7,479 calls since his first day.)

Then there’s the physical toll. Malone has had seven herniated discs over the years from lifting (often overweight) patients onto stretchers.

Sometimes, volunteer service leads to a paid career. Chad Ayotte volunteered as a firefighter in Palm Desert, California, at age 18. He was about to graduate high school and knew college wasn’t for him. He was raised by his single mom, and not having a father led him to be a wild child.

Ayotte describes his captain at the time as “militaristic, […] demand[ing] a lot out of his volunteers”—which was precisely the discipline Ayotte needed in order to return to the straight and narrow. He volunteered for four years. He knew this was the job for him and is currently in his ninth year of service as a paid employee. At the time, the Palm Desert fire department had the rare combination of both volunteer and paid members, so he made the transition within the same department.

The number of volunteers in the country is dwindling. For decades, Malverne had EMTs on call 24-seven. Malone said that when he started in 1976, there were 60 or 70 active volunteers. He said now, that number is eight or nine, so when there’s no one available to respond, the village relies on a nearby medical center. At this rate, the number will fall to zero, at least in Malverne.

“That time, I think, is kind of fast approaching,” said Malone with a sigh. Americans can take comfort in knowing that there are hundreds of thousands of volunteers who will respond in their time of need.

At least for now.

Dave Paone is a Long Island-based reporter and photographer who has won journalism awards for articles, photographs, and headlines. When he’s not writing and photographing, he’s catering to every demand of his cat, Gigi.

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Features Small Farms

Creating ‘Shangri-La’

Liz Pike standing next to her art studio. (Photo courtesy of Rachel Deschand)

Twenty years ago, during a difficult time in her life, artist and former legislator, Liz Pike, moved into a friend’s rental home in Camas, Washington. She was told that this place would be her “Shangri-La,” a peaceful place of her own that she could call home. Not long afterwards, Pike met her current husband, an ex-Delta airline pilot, whose best friend had an airport in Washington with the same name as her home: Shangri-La Airport. Considering their connection to be predestined, Pike was determined to call her farm, Shangri-La.

Greatly influenced by James Hilton’s version of Shangri-La in “Lost Horizon,” Pike aimed to materialize Hilton’s fictional paradise through the gardens she created. “We wanted to create a welcoming, peaceful, tranquil setting,” she said. But at the time, Pike was living on a double city lot in Camas. “I had chickens and raised beds everywhere.” Her husband looked around and decided she needed a proper farm. In 2010, they bought one.

Growing up on a dairy farm, Pike was well-accustomed to hard work. Eventually, she left her family farm in pursuit of her future, but she always dreamed of returning to the simple, tranquil life she once knew and loved. “At this point in my life I just want to stay here and paint, and take care of my farm,” she said.

For Pike, living on a farm is one of the most satisfying things in her life, as it allows her to experience the immediate gratification of farming. “In a corporate environment, you might be working on a project lasting three or four years, and it just takes a really long time to see something to fruition,” she explained. “On a farm, you spend an hour on a part of your garden, and all of a sudden, it looks really good.”

Putting Politics Behind

Liz Pike smiles as she stands beside some of her sunflower paintings. (Photo courtesy of Rachel Deschand)

Pike was a member of the Camas City Council from 2003 to 2007, and a state representative for Washington Clark County from 2013 to 2018. In January 2016, she published an open letter, declaring her resignation from the political sphere to embark on a new chapter of her life. She wished to dedicate all her efforts to her farm, and to raising animals.

Her resignation also allowed her to focus more on her other passion—art. From a young age, Pike painted as a way to relax. “I painted a lot while I was in the legislature, just to escape Olympia. I would come home on the weekend, and just immerse myself in the farm, and my art, just to get away from all the negativity of politics,” she said. Her paintings have been on regular display at the Camas Gallery for the past five years.

Pike regularly features her love of nature in her oil paintings. She enjoys painting sunflowers, mountains, and sometimes, still life. Today, she offers affordable, short oil painting classes, referred to as “Sip and Paint” workshops, in her converted garage art studio. She accepts no more than nine people for any given class, and spots are allocated on a first-come, first-serve basis. Guests have a choice between morning or evening classes, and Pike provides fresh-baked treats, including her homemade truffles, as well as either wine or coffee. The workshop cost covers all art materials, complete with easels and aprons.

Ten years in, Pike is now a certified Master Gardener, providing regular contributions and demonstrations in the Clark County Master Gardener program. She has also been beekeeping for the last five years and owns several different colonies. “I plant a lot of oregano around the farm because the flowers from those herbs boost the bees’ immune systems, and they’re healthier,” she explained.

Painting on a Real-Life Canvas

The Shangri-La tea room is nestled amongst the trees. (Photo courtesy of Rachel Deschand)

The farm itself serves as a secondary canvas for her to unleash her creativity. Initially, the farm wasn’t in great shape, with an abundance of thick, 40-foot-high blackberry bushes, and weeds. There were molehills, unkempt pastures, abandoned possessions from previous owners, and plants starved of water. Due to her strict organic gardening practices, Pike had to dig out the bushes or pull them out by hand. In doing so, she discovered many sickly rhododendrons that had been buried away for years, which she then carefully nursed back to life.

Pike takes great pride in her organic gardening practices. She adheres to an all-natural, organic approach to gardening, using her chicken manure rather than commercial chemical fertilizers. She pulls or digs out any weeds on her property and makes a continuous, conscious effort to use many native species of plants to encourage wildlife, and create a healthy, balanced ecosystem. “We don’t use any sprays or pesticides for the simple reason that I don’t want to eat poison,” she said.

Today, the farm is a beautifully-crafted work of art, with paved pathways leading to different areas of the garden. A Japanese tea house sits in the front of the property, complete with a little bridge, right across from the farm stand where Pike regularly restocks her fresh produce and baked goods for sale: from blueberries, green beans, plums, squashes, and tomatoes, to scones, jam, chocolate truffles, eggs, and even kombucha.

Transforming a nearly two-acre property was no easy feat. “My advice to somebody starting out would be to just do one little project at a time,” she said. Working on small areas, particularly those areas one frequents the most, is a good starting point. For Pike, those areas were around her work shed, where she keeps her garden and woodworking tools. So, she beautified that area with rose gardens.

Peace and Happiness

Liz sells many of her fresh produce at her farm stand at Shangri-La Farm, WA. (Photo courtesy of Rachel Deschand)

Neighbors and local visitors are often impressed with the beauty that encapsulates Shangri-La Farm. “There’s a lady that lives about a mile from here, around the corner, and she’s been living over there for the past 15 years. She drove by this place when it looked bad,” said Pike. She started crying when she drove by and saw the new gardens.

Much of the charm comes from Pike’s creativity, where she often uses old items and reworks them into new ones. One instance was when she took some limbs off an old cedar tree and turned them into posts to hold up the four corners of her Japanese tearoom, and even her grape arbor. She has also recycled her old campaign signs to use as posts.

“The theme of our farm is peace and happiness,” said Pike. Walking around the beautiful paths, visitors can experience the soothing power of nature surrounding them. Visitors come to Shangri-La Farm for the farm stand but stay for the garden’s tranquility. Benches and chairs are scattered all around the perimeter of the garden, providing ample seating for visitors. Oftentimes, Pike said, they will come over with a cup of coffee, and just sit outside.

Pike has even started to label all her plants in the garden, in the hopes of someday transforming it into a true botanical garden. “That way people can wander around, and there’ll be a listing of all the plants in that color,” she said. Paths are carefully designed cyclically, allowing visitors to wander around and end up back where they started.

Pike even has her own method of marketing her farm stand. Painted wooden signs hang on hooks and eyes along the entrance to the farm, visible to roadside drivers. The signs are all interchangeable, and serve as her roadside marketing system, alerting visitors about what produce and goods are currently available.

An Everblooming Garden

A curved road leading into Shangri-La Farm, WA. (Photo courtesy of Rachel Deschand)

Books serve as an important source of inspiration for Pike. A treasured favorite is “The Layered Garden” by David L. Culp. The book discusses garden design ideas for year-round beauty, and is inspired by Brandywine Cottage, Culp’s beloved two-acre Pennsylvania garden. Her favorite part of the book is when Culp discusses coming up with garden plans.

The secret to a great garden is to always try to incorporate the various features that already exist in the space for the garden, so when drawing out a plan, it’s important to draw it out once, and then put it away in a drawer. Then, go out into the garden space and look at the features already there, like a tree, or an old fence.

“If you strictly go by the piece of paper and the plan, you’re going to miss all those things that you can take advantage of that are already out there,” Pike explained. She said that for her farm, that element was the old mother maple tree, positioned almost in the center of the garden. It wasn’t originally part of her garden plan, but once she stood out there, she realized the importance of the old tree, and knew she had to keep her there.

The book also encourages planting perennials and discusses the design technique of layering: interplanting different plant species in the same area, so that when one finishes blooming, another one will begin. This results in an everblooming garden, full of colors that continually change throughout the seasons. This is precisely what Pike incorporated in her garden, choosing to plant mostly perennials, allowing her to always have something blooming, and providing important forage for her bees. Another bonus for her is that she can create bouquets for her table all year long, even during winter.

Categories
Entrepreneurs Features

Bulletproof

BenShot's glassware is melded with imaginative hardware like bullets, arrow tips, and mini fire axes. (Courtesy of BenShot)

A few years ago, Bruce and Ben Wolfgram started debating about how to design the ultimate shot glass. Pierced with a bullet, a combination of the father and son’s two favorite things—guns and drinking—the pun-fueled drinking vessel would basically defy gravity and challenge logic with its curved exterior and heat-embedded bits of artillery. Bruce Wolfgram, a retired artist who had years of experience in creative design, was up for the task. After a lot of research, and more than a few piles of shattered glass, BenShot was born.

“This was more or less a project to break my dad out of a retirement funk,” noted Ben Wolfgram, an engineer by trade who was working at a robotics company in Philadelphia when the concept was launched. “He toyed around with it in his garage; torching and molding the glass until he got it just right. He made a bunch and brought them to a local gun show. They immediately sold out.”

News of Wolfgram’s glassware spread rapidly via word of mouth, and Bruce spent much of his time traveling to gun shows throughout the country. As sales increased, the father-son duo decided to create a website and bring their products to a wider audience. Ben quit his job, moved back to his Appleton, Wisconsin, hometown, and, together with his father, opened a glass workshop on the grounds of a repurposed furniture factory formerly owned by Thomas Edison. The vintage workspace and rural Northwoods surroundings provided a unique glass-working environment.

(Courtesy of BenShot)

“It was our goal from the start to make everything here in the United States,” Ben Wolfgram said. “We wanted to create jobs in our hometown and source all of our raw materials from right here in this country. In five years, this business has grown from a one-man operation in a garage to a full-time staff of 40 employees working in a 50,000-square-foot production facility. Nothing is outsourced, and everything we use—even our cardboard packaging—is made right here in the U.S.A.”

Embedded with a real, lead-free, .308-caliber bullet, and handcrafted with glass furnaces and lots of heat, each two-ounce shot glass takes about seven hours to complete. Etched and personalized upon request, some of their best-selling varieties include tumblers emblazoned with the American flag or printed with the Second Amendment. The BenShot inventory also encompasses pints, rocks, and wine glasses, and there are decanters and beer mugs, too. Just this past year, the Wolfgrams extended their offerings, embedding their glasses with miniature fire axes, fishing lures, broadhead arrow tips, golf balls, and hockey pucks. Custom orders have included glass sets embedded with pinballs, guitar picks, and a variety of nuts and bolts.

(Courtesy of BenShot)

“We wanted to make other designs that would represent other people’s passions and professions,” Ben Wolfgram said. “Guys are hard to buy for, so we started brainstorming about different likes and pastimes. Golf was an easy one and made a good corporate gift. We started thinking about our first responders because one of our employees was enrolled in the fire academy.”

Sketching out a small fire ax in-house and modeling it in Computer-Aided Design software, the younger Wolfgram printed it in 3D and then made a mold to cast the ax out of molten pewter. “It’s become one of our bestsellers,” he said. “And the fact that it’s made here from start to finish—like all of our products are—is probably one of its most attractive features.”

BenShot’s sales have since skyrocketed. Their craftsmanship and customer service have propelled the brand into a multi-million-dollar sales range and forced a relocation to a more spacious factory. Still located in Appleton and selling the majority of their products on BenShot.com, the company also markets its wares on Amazon.

“We have a lot of engagement from small communities across the country,” Ben Wolfgram said. “Firefighters, police, and military make up the bulk of our buyers, but all of our customers appreciate the fact that the product is handmade right here in the U.S.”

And the company places great importance on giving back to the community that supports it. “We are honored to team up with like-minded nonprofit organizations,” he added. “To date, BenShot has donated to more than 300 nonprofit organizations throughout the United States. We care deeply about the military, law enforcement officers, first responders, and mental health causes.”

For Wolfgram, it’s an extension of his product’s top-tier standards. “Our success hinges on the quality of our products and whether our customers get everything they were promised,” he concluded. “Our philosophy is to make an innovative product while still keeping jobs here in the U.S. We enjoy what we do, and it’s our goal to share our enthusiasm and excellence with as many people as possible.”

Jessica Jones-Gorman launched her career in journalism at a New York City daily newspaper more than 20 years ago. She has worked a general news beat, covered fashion, and written countless features about people who inspire and lead.

Categories
Features

Saratoga Springs, New York: Three Attractions To Visit

Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)

Saratoga Springs, New York, is a small east coast town famed for its horse racing history and replenishing natural spas. Situated right between Albany (New York’s capital city) and picturesque Lake George, Saratoga Springs has bountiful offerings for travelers of every age and background.

Below we’ll explore a very brief history of the small New York town before taking you on a journey to three of the most popular attractions the region has to offer. Get ready because this travel guide is full of exciting things to do in Saratoga Springs. We’re talking ancient mineral springs, spa resorts, and America’s oldest race track. Let’s dive right in!

Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)

A brief history of Saratoga Springs, New York

The mineral-rich springs of Saratoga first attracted the interest of travelers in the early 1800s, although the health benefits of the springs were no secret to those before them. By 1831 a railroad was constructed, and a small hub of tourism quickly followed.

Fast forward to 1863, and America’s oldest race track emerged—the Saratoga Race Course. Shortly after came a slew of thoroughbred horse racing events, casinos, hotels, and eventually an entire town. The rest is living history.

Things to-do at Saratoga Springs

This exciting historical and cultural center is minutes from Albany and a short drive from iconic Northeast locations. Most notably, Lake George. Although health resorts and horse racing have long attracted visitors, there is no shortage of other activities to engage with today. From historical museums to boutique shopping and a lively bar and restaurant scene, fun activities in Saratoga abound.

1. Visit the natural mineral springs

As far back as the early 19th century, the natural carbonation contained in Saratoga Springs has attracted travelers. Today, the same natural springs draw an impressive crowd. If you visit Saratoga Springs, be sure to experience one or more of its 21 public natural spring locations. As expected, there is a wide range of spa activities and resorts situated around the springs, so prepare to rejuvenate!

Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)

2. Indulge in horseracing

Aside from the mineral springs, horse racing and gambling have always been Saratoga’s vice, and there’s no shortage of historical evidence to prove it. Even today, guests can stop in at the horse tracks for some fun, and many do so. Most remarkable is the Saratoga Race Course dating back to 1863.

Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)

3. Visit downtown

Just like any modern-day city, downtown Saratoga Springs, New York, has no shortage of mouthwatering local restaurants and comfortable places to imbibe. That’s another reason why travelers have been stopping off here for over 150 years. Throw in a hefty dose of Victorian architecture, museums, boutique shopping, and a healthy sprinkling of hotels, and we have ourselves a perfect holiday destination.

Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski)
Saratoga Springs, New York. (Veronica Yankowski )