Trend: Prime Cut

Jennifer and Graham Black, who live in Seattle’s Leschi neighborhood, had Barry Taylor’s little lamb, raised in Quilcene, sent to Port Orchard to be butchered and packed. Ginny Hale, who lives near Madrona, bought 60 pounds of beef directly from a farmer in Arlington. In Mount Baker, John and Lauren Milan have several dozen pounds of a steer in their freezer, which their friend, Rainier Valley firefighter Mike McCaslin, brought in from a herd of pasture-raised, grass-fed cows in Cle Elum. Charles and Melanie Fix, in Seward Park, distribute beef from Melanie’s cousins’ ranch in Eastern Washington to a growing group of friends. 

The trend is the confluence of several impulses: reducing your carbon footprint by purchasing local products, knowing more about the source of the food you’re consuming, interest in more humane animal-raising practices and a desire to support local businesses. Jennifer Black says buying meat locally is the next step in a life that, foodwise, revolves in a tighter and tighter orbit around their home. “We [try to] eat local ingredients. When we heard about buying a local lamb, there was no discussion. It was, ‘Let’s just do that.’”

If the movement has a bible, it is Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Pollan argues for locally produced, grass-fed beef, citing research that cows fattened on grain are less healthy. “Pollan’s book has had an impact,” says Keith Swanson of Thundering Hooves Pasture Finished Meats in Walla Walla, which raises, markets and delivers grass-fed beef, lamb, pork and some poultry raised on certified organic pastures. He notes that about 20 percent of his customers mention the book. Lauren Milan agrees. “When people see you reading that book, they say, ‘Oh, you’re that kind of people.’” Since buying local minimizes energy costs and maximizes community, she adds, it is more appealing than just simply buying organic products. “We’ve been doing organic dairy, but we want to be more local—it’s less selfish.” Mike McCaslin notes: “I like that I know where the animals were raised, how they were cared for. And it tastes great.”

For the customer, though, buying local meat is not all gravy; it comes with a learning curve. First, planning can be an issue. Storing and figuring out what to do with 60 pounds or more of beef can be a challenge. And Hale, who has been buying local, small-producer meat for three years, says she had a lot to learn just about how to talk directly to the butcher. She initially bought half a steer with four other families, and then had to tell the butcher how to divide it up. “He’d describe different cuts of meat, he’d talk about hanging weight versus packaged weight, and I wasn’t sure what he meant.”

Prices, too, can be higher than typical grocery store meats. Some cuts at Thundering Hooves, for instance, run 10 percent to 20 percent above supermarket prices. Swanson contends, however, that commodity meats at the supermarket have a lot of hidden costs, such as environmental damage and health impacts from antibiotic use. 

Regardless, demand is increasing, and the number of options for locally oriented carnivores is expanding, by word of mouth and click of the mouse. Farmers’ markets are good sources, and the “100-mile diet” blogspot (100milediet.blogs.sustainableballard.org/local-foods/meat-dairy) lists local beef, poultry, lamb and pork providers. And Thundering Hooves’ Swanson makes biweekly delivery runs to Seattle, Portland and places in between. In addition to restaurants, Swanson delivers to buying clubs, informal associations hosted by established customers who volunteer to let their driveways be used for drop-off and pickup. Anyone interested (you do not need to be a member) can order as much or as little as they wish. “We started with one buying club, in the Snoqualmie Valley. Now we’ve got 25,” Swanson says. “We’re pleasantly surprised with the growth—we get very good feedback from our customers.”