Can you imagine live streaming the butchering of a beef carcass or having people line up to watch their steak or roast being carved from a carcass right in front of them?
It’s not what you expect in a time when many people view livestock as being like pets and are being told by animal activists to associate meat with cruelty.
But the former happened this spring at a Nova Scotia Community College event, and the latter is an everyday occurrence at Getaway Farm Butcher Shop at the Halifax Seaport Farmers’ Market.
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“Someone will come in and ask for a rib eye steak and we’ll say, ‘Hang on a second, it’s still on the front quarter,’ ” said Chris de Waal of Getaway Farm.
“We’ll wheel out the carcass, break it down to primals, and then cut their steak. When they witness the transition from a piece of an animal to a cut of meat, they have such a greater appreciation for that meal and all the work that goes into producing it.”
It seems that the current trend in which people want to know where their food comes from might run deeper than we realize. And that has implications for all farmers.
De Waal, wife Leonie, and their three kids, along with her parents, brother and grandfather, moved from Lethbridge to Baxter’s Harbour overlooking the Bay of Fundy in 2009 after posting an online “cattle farm wanted” ad. His father-in-law, whose feedlot fell victim to the BSE fallout, wanted to get back into cattle, and de Waal and his wife wanted to move to the East Coast.
The idea from the start was to sell fresh meat to consumers, but de Waal, with a background in TV production and communications, was as new to retailing as he was to farming
“I didn’t know my eye of round from a rib eye,” the 35-year-old joked.
The family, which backgrounds feeders on grass, initially hired a butcher to custom cut meat, which they brought to a farmers’ market each weekend. Within two years, they went from selling barely a side of beef each week, to two to three whole animals.
“That’s a lot of beef to have custom cut and then haul into the city each week,” said de Waal. “We knew our customers and how they embraced what we were doing, so we said, ‘Let’s do this. Let’s take this risk.’ ”
They built a meat shop with a big cooler with a rail running from it to a cutting area behind the counter so butcher Ben Andrews could cut up carcasses in full public view.
“We’re wheeling out whole pigs. You know, head on, hanging upside down, nose to the floor thing,” he said.
The most unexpected part was the range of people who aren’t squeamish about the idea of Daisy becoming dinner.
“You wouldn’t be surprised to see hipsters in there, or hard core foodies and carnivore types,” said de Waal. “But in reality, we have more female clients than men. We have single moms, students, professionals, retired couples, we have every demographic and every age group.”
It helps that de Waal is a friendly, persuasive guy and people like supporting a family raising grass-fed, natural beef.
But there’s something more going on, said de Waal.
“It’s not the beef or the grass and soil or the family farm and building a local economy,” he said. “At the end of the day, it’s about the relationships we’ve developed with people through food.”
Of course, most producers don’t sell direct to the public. But there’s a lesson here for everyone.
It’s natural to assume that it’s best not to talk about the grittier side of farming, whether that’s how animals are killed or the chemicals you use.
Maybe we don’t give consumers enough credit. De Waal’s customers aren’t hung up on Old MacDonald stereotypes. They’re more than ready for adult conversations on where their food comes from.
For more information go to www.getawayfarm.ca.
