Written by Terra Brockman

Reviewed by Marty Vanags

I enjoy listening to the local director of the McLean County Museum of History talk about the local economic and business history of our area. Once, while entertaining about 35 consulates general from Chicago, our organization asked him to speak about the local economic history. It was fascinating, and in his speech as I recall, all commerce was local. At the turn of the century and before that time, many of the things we enjoyed in our community were often manufactured locally or did not come from too far away. And when a product did come from, say—New York City or beyond—it was looked upon as very special and, indeed, sometimes exotic.  The farther away it from where it came, the greater its mysticism and allure.

It is interesting to note that almost every town at one time had a manufacturer of automobiles. It was usually the entrepreneurial buggy-maker in town who simply attached an electric motor to buggies and, immediately, he was in the car manufacturing business. However, another entrepreneur with even bigger plans a couple states over soon commoditized the manufacture of vehicles, and in short order we all waited for delivery of our automobiles from Detroit, certainly a place with less allure than New York City, but far away nonetheless.

So it goes with many other things, and there are those who bemoan this fact. From labor unions to manufacturers, from the political right to the left and the common citizen, we ask ourselves “why does everything come from so far away?” China, India, Indonesia, Chile, Russia—all seem to have cornered our marketplace with their products. Why? There are a number of reasons why, but I am neither the expert nor is there enough room in this review to discuss it. But, manufactured products are not the only thing that arrives from off-shore.

So, where does our food come from?  I know some people who think their food comes from a box. And, indeed, in their case it may very well be true. The food issue is wrought with all types of political ideas, concepts of health, carbon fuel, security and, ultimately, taste. The idea of local food or regional food has become more and more popular in recent days, and it has been raising interest for some time in the United States.  According to the Wikipedia definition, local food or the local food movement is a “collaborative effort to build more locally based, self-reliant food economies – one in which sustainable food production, processing, distribution and consumption is integrated to enhance the economic, environmental and social health of a particular place.”

Recently, a group of people have shown interest in creating a local food processing center in our area. While working with them to determine the best way to apply for a grant to achieve this endeavor, I learned that one of them, Terra Brockman, was an author of a recent book, The Seasons on Henry’s Farm – A Year of Food and Life on a Sustainable Farm.  In this book, she takes a look at what life is like for a farmer who chose a different path in his life to achieve an American Dream unlike any that are often conjured in that phrase. Henry’s American Dream is one where he gets to spend time with the earth, plants, sun, wind, microbes, dogs, chickens, varmints and family. It is a life many might consider a nightmare, rather than a dream. This dream provides no time for hanging out at the pub, shopping at the mall, eating at Olive Garden or playing video games or golf. Instead, life on Henry’s Farm is a fulfilling life which seems to consume every minute of every day of the entire year with thoughts about the farm and much hard labor, according to the author who also happens to be Henry’s sister.

What is life like on Henry’s farm? Brockman divides her book into weeks, and right away we are entertained by an ample description of what it takes to plant garlic. Rather than starting in the first week of January with the descriptions of life, Brockman starts appropriately enough in the week that represents the last week of the season for the Brockman family, yet the first step towards prosperity in the next year. I thought it was a great place to start. As we amble through the weeks, we come to learn more about Henry, his family and the obvious respect that they have for the earth, the food we eat and how it gets to the table. The book is heavy on the multitude of varieties that Henry plants on his farm, and it is frustrating to think that unless you buy from Henry, you are getting short-changed at the local market. Even garlic comes in a wide variety of tastes and nuances that due to the consumption of chopped garlic in a bottle, garlic powder or spray, we have probably lost the ability to differentiate.

The Seasons on Henry’s Farm is an easy read, and the author’s descriptions of all aspects of life on the farm brings the reader to appreciate the hard work it takes to manage such a variety of activities. Many of our ancestors were farmers of the type that Henry represents: growing food for the table (their own table), and anything left over going to the neighbors or sold or traded to other folks nearby. Today, most farmers we see are growing corn and beans to be purchased by anonymous corporations and foreign governments for processing into many other substances. Henry represents the farmer we most likely read about as children: the type with chickens, dogs, sheep, a couple cows and, maybe, a horse.

The book requires us to reflect. Is Henry’s life on the farm a romantic notion that is available to a select few farmers and gives us capitalistic, carbon-consuming urbanites an opportunity to feel better by buying his product?  Is Brockman’s book painting a picture of a life that itself is unsustainable?  As one reads the author’s descriptions of everything from duck sex to the temperature and consistency of the soil and the ongoing relentless nature of the work involved to maintain a farm like this, one senses that sustainable or not—romantic or not—Henry and his family probably don’t think about it. In fact, I believe there is a sense of Zen-like “being” in Henry’s family about what they do. They feel that this is what they need to do, that it is a way for their family to be together and a way to bring about happiness, all the while respecting Earth and its resources.

Brockman’s book is a current nominee for a 2010 James Beard Foundation Award for writing. The James Beard Foundation, named for the original American “foodie” James Beard, honors everyone from writers to chefs and restaurants each year. Brockman will find out if she is the recipient of this very important award on May 2.  This is certainly a high honor and important as well. The book illustrates what a local economy looks like. It shows how economic development can occur even in the least likely places. It provides us a glimpse into another world, one where food production is done in a very earnest, honest and nurturing way. This honesty translates easily into words on a page and finds its way into your emotions, your heart and, ultimately, to your table.

If you read this book, you will appreciate life on the farm, and your thinking about how and what you consume will be challenged. Only you can decide what is important for you and your family, but be assured that people like Henry are concerned about what you consume, and it comes alive in a confident way in this book.  Consuming local food is good not only for your health, but also for the local economy. Let’s do it, so our food doesn’t go the way of the local buggy-maker.