by Stuart Tarr

Not so many years ago, the local newspaper would often picture the owner of the local steakhouse handing over a check for the prize-winning steer from the county fair. Now most towns are lucky to have locally owned media outlets, let alone local steakhouses. Consolidation, vertical integration, and economic "efficiency" have virtually eliminated much of what once were relatively local food systems.

Today, beef is finished for market mostly in huge feeder lots that stretch over acres of Kansas, Colorado, and Texas and is butchered in large factories by low-wage labor, then packaged for supermarkets. Supermarkets love the convenience and dependable supply of these packaged meats, and consumers apparently do, too.

One downside is that we have fewer and fewer meat lockers, butchers, poultry processors, and other skilled activities in Illinois. To sell his beef across state lines, central Illinois cattleman Armin Hesterberg has to have his meat processed in Terre Haute, Indiana, the nearest federally licensed facility. In all of downstate Illinois, only one commercial poultry processor is left, in the Amish community of Arthur.

The lack of processing capacity is a growing concern as livestock and poultry production in Illinois, which has plummeted in recent years, is beginning to make a comeback with the rising demand for organic, free-range, and pastured chicken and for natural and grass-fed beef and organic pork and lamb.

The sense that the increasing number of natural meat producers have of this growing market is backed up by a survey of consumers in Chicago, Peoria, and St. Louis, conducted by the University of Illinois, under the direction of agricultural economics professor Burt Swanson. The survey strongly shows that a solid demand for organic and natural meats and poultry in the state exists and that many people, particularly those in upper-income and upper-education brackets, are willing to pay a reasonable premium to get such meats.

Swanson notes, however, that building and maintaining the supply chain to service these consumers is a difficult process, and those supply chains that do exist are relatively fragile. He notes that long-term organizational problems will need to be satisfactorily addressed to significantly grow this market, something Juli Brussel, an organic farmer from Cumberland County and a longtime activist in organic production, agrees with. "The irony is that as demand is increasing we are losing our capacity to supply that demand."

Brussel notes that marketing will likely not be enough by itself to get this kind of production to a long-term, steady growth pattern. In addition, serious structural issues, such as subsidies to conventional operations, must be fairly dealt with.

Despite all its supply efficiency, the industrial consolidation of the meat industry has raised several issues that are leading an increasing number of people to prefer that their meat be produced in another way. The pollution potential of mega hog farms has been a source of community strife throughout the Midwest. Articles and programs in mainstream media on the nature of meat production, overuse of antibiotics and the resulting possibility of resistant bacteria, and outbreaks of foodborne illness and even death have led increasing numbers of people who still want to eat meat to other, often more local, sources.

The other major element in increasing consumer demand for niche market meats is taste. Hesterberg, who raises and markets beef from the unusual Belgian Blue breed that is cross-bred with leaner breeds such as Simmental and Charolais, says many customers come to his Whispering Pines Beef Company for health reasons, but they become steady customers for the superior taste and texture of the beef.

Paul Gebhart, who raises organic chickens, hogs, and grain in Christian County, sells pork loin at a nice premium through the Nimand Ranch, an organic meat producer and marketer, to the world-famous Chez Panisse restaurant in Berkeley, California, where it sells for $65 a plate. But at the same time, he thinks it's a little silly to be shipping food that far, and most of his organic chicken and egg sales are relatively local. His market is primarily in the Springfield and Decatur area, but he gets requests to buy his chickens from all over, which he will serve if he can but would rather not. "There's room for more producers. We've got the people and room for many guys like me. Don't haul chickens past a chicken grower, and don't overproduce. I recently got a call from someone in Quincy wanting my chickens. I supplied them, but I don't want those customers. I would much rather have a guy in Quincy doing what I'm doing. It's stupid to haul food past a farmer."

Dennis and JoAnn Dickman, who raise organic-pastured chickens on their southwest Kankakee County farm, say they have been stunned by the size of the demand for their chickens and eggs. In what started out as a small project, they soon found the market literally knocking on their door.

JoAnn says, "We never imagined it would take off like this. We got into it by accident. I couldn't stand the taste of store-bought chickens. So we got a few chickens, and Dennis built a shelter, and then they started laying eggs. What am I going to do? Pretty soon I had a six-week waiting list for people wanting farm-fresh eggs. So we got about 75 layer hens, and then some folks said they wanted some stewing hens." After coming across Joel Salatin's book on pastured chickens, they decided to try that. "The first year [1999], we went through about 500. The next year, we went to 2,000; and last year [2001], we raised 4,000."

Now they have a nice, clean operation with on-site processing, and a steady and growing market. Regular and new customers come to the farm with the big sign out front: "Chickens so fresh they may embarrass you." They have heard about it word of mouth, have seen the Dickmans' website while looking for natural or pastured chickens, or have encountered the pair at local farmers' markets. Some even found the operation through a mention in an article in the New York Times. The Dickmans have long sold sweet corn on-site and at the Kankakee farmers' market, but last summer they started selling chickens at the market. This year they have obtained a license to sell in Will County and will be selling at the Joliet market, also, and will be carrying some of their neighbors' pastured natural beef, too.

The operation could expand significantly, but JoAnn says they won't go to the point where they have to hire help "because that's a whole other level." Right now the chickens are doing exceptionally well as a financial endeavor, but the Dickmans emphasize repeatedly how much pleasure it is to deal with satisfied customers and that they'd like to keep it at that more personal scale.

Customers are both those who have health reasons for not eating industrially produced meats and those who just want chickens that taste better. And they come from all over the region. "We have customers coming from Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, Geneva, Rockford, Chicago, and Barrington," JoAnn says.

For winter sales, they step up production in the fall, but last year they still ran out in January. "We were worried we would have chickens left over," JoAnn says. "But it's not a problem. People tend to buy 10, 15, 20 chickens. They bring their coolers and fill them up." Some people even want the wings and backs and offal to feed their dogs who need special diets. Feet and heads end up in ethnic markets. Dennis says the only parts he's having trouble getting rid of are the feathers.