Cheese Makers Under Attack; or, what happened with the Inlander

It is time to admit that my foray into professional food writing, via the Inlander, has officially fizzled out. I think had the lovely and intelligent gentleman who hired me remained as Arts and Culture Editor, the story would have had a different ending. It isn't that the woman who took his place (so that he could devote more time to his own writing) isn't good at her job. I'm sure she is. It's just that I'm not a journalist, and I don't think she and I were compatible enough for her to teach me what I needed to know. Whatever happened, I ended up writing a story that I think is worth telling, and it isn't going to get used in the paper in a recognizable form, so I thought I would "publish" it here. The issues came down to two things: first, the article needs more quotes and to be more journalistic. The editor is right about that, but I decided that I should concentrate on my scholarly writing, rather than attempt to learn a new craft. Second, she wanted this to be a character, hero-driven piece rather than an exploration of an ethical dilemma, without seeming to advocate for small businesses or potentially risky eating habits. This felt like the wrong way to take the story (not to mention contradictory), and it was on this point that perhaps my stubbornness took over. I wouldn't cut the quote at the end, and I wouldn't dramatize Sally Jackson into some pathetic old woman clinging to the last strands of her livelihood. Her story has more dignity than that. To the wonderful people who shared their time and story with me, I'm sorry I didn't find you a wider audience. For those of you in Spokane who read the Inlander, keep an eye out for the tendency of Arts and Culture pieces to feature a dramatic hero presented in hyperbolic descriptions. It's like a drinking game. 

Without further preamble:

Cheese Makers Under Attack

Sally Jackson is a pioneer, and the kind of woman who could have journeyed west in a covered wagon.  Instead of settling new land, she opened up new culinary territory. In 1979, she started making goat’s milk cheese when no one in America was eating it.  She was, arguably, the first person to market goat’s milk cheese in America, although that title is usually awarded to Laura Chenel of Sonoma, California. Her small farm deep in the Okanogan highlands, a farm which was first wired for electricity only a few years ago, now produces high quality semi-soft goat and sheep’s milk cheese, and, most recently, a cow’s milk cheese called Renata, named after Jackson’s Brown Swiss cow.  Cutting into the dense rind of any Sally Jackson cheese reveals a creamy white interior, redolent of grass, with the hint of funky barn distinctive of goat’s milk cheese.  Her cheeses have traveled from Okanogan to the restaurants of New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago.  So why is it she is contemplating giving up cheese-making now, when there is finally an educated public that can appreciate her cheese and her values?

Like a good post-modern tale, there are two stories here, occupying the same set of facts, but otherwise incommensurate.  Both tales have lurid details; both lay claim to core values and beliefs.  One story has to do with the government fulfilling a role even the most radical of libertarians think is one of its primary functions:  protecting our health by ensuring the safety of our food supply. The other story has to do with an unfair government agency, geared to serve and protect giant agra-business and unable, or worse, unwilling, to work with local, small, sustainable farms.

In Washington state, there are a rapidly growing number of farmstead cheesemakers.  Part dairy and part kitchen, farmstead cheesemakers are responsible for the entire process, from raising the milk-producing animals to packaging and, often, distributing the cheese itself.  These operations answer directly our growing desire for a sense of connection to our food.  We want to know where it came from and be able to speak to the people who produced it.  We want to know what the animals ate and how they were treated.  We want to be reasonably certain that we are doing no harm to ourselves, others, and the environment. 

Catha Links of Alpine Lakes Farm near Leavenworth is typical of the second generation of farmstead cheesemakers in the state,  a generation which includes: Joan Monteillet of Monteillet Fromagerie in Walla Walla, who handles all her own distribution and marketing, and who would be happy to teach you the art of cheese-making while you stay in her agri-tourismo style lodgings; M. Clare Paris of Larkhaven Farms in the Okanogan, who can be found each summer week-end at the Spokane Farmer’s Market, providing samples of her cheeses and proudly showing photos of her livestock; and Kelli Estrella of Estrella Creamery in Montesano. Links’ operation is tiny; she makes cheese in a single, large pot. Since at their heart, these operations are small farms, the work is physically demanding and insistent.  Goats, cows, and sheep are milked everyday, which means that cheese is made everyday, sometimes twice a day.  Lambing, calving, and kidding season means nights spent sleeping – or not sleeping – in the barn.  Sometimes there are interns, but often the work comes down to one or two people. Links is motivated by love – of cheese, of the animals, of sustainability – rather than by profit.  She says she loves it that people are asking the right questions now, “questions about what are the animals eating, what antibiotics and hormones are [being used], why [she isn’t] organic.”  Like most of these cheese-makers, she isn’t organic because it doesn’t make sense for her scale of operation.     

Links is worried, however. Worried enough that she is going to stop producing semi-soft cheeses altogether.  In October, the FDA placed all cheese at the Estrella Family Creamery under seizure because Listeria had been found in samples taken from retailers.  Supporters of the Creamery, including Paris, point out that there are no reports of any sickness coming from their cheese, that Listeria is a common bacteria with many non-virulent strains and the FDA tests have not determined what type of Listeria was detected, that the no tolerance policy taken by the FDA is unreasonable and unusual (for example, the European Union allows small amounts of the bacteria) and nearly impossible for small operations to maintain.  In November, the Washington State Department of Agriculture gave Sally Jackson thirty days to upgrade her dairy facility to meet Grade A standards, even though she has been operating with a non-Grade A license for over thirty years.  More alarming, in the beginning of December, cases of E-coli were linked to cheese boards including her cheeses, causing the FDA to issue a full recall of all of her cheeses.  Jackson is cooperating with both government agencies, but the strain is audible in her voice when she talks about the future.  She wants to fight, because she thinks what is happening to cheese-makers in the state is unfair, but she wonders if it is time for her to move on to the next thing in her life. 

The problem is that all of these operations produce raw milk cheese, meaning that the cheese is made from milk that has not been pasteurized.  Any bacteria in the milk finds a comfortable environment in the cheese to set up shop.  Some of these bacteria, namely Listeria and E-coli, are particularly virulent.  We are all familiar with the horrors of E-coli, including kidney failure and death, although most cases involve little more than the stomach flu.  Listeria is also potentially fatal for anyone with a compromised immune system, and can cause birth defects and miscarriages when consumed by a pregnant woman.  Confirmed cases of people becoming sick from eating raw milk cheeses are rare, and both bacteria can be found in pasteurized milk cheeses as well as other types of food.  In fact, Chris Loss, Director of Menu Research and Development at the Culinary Institute of America, says “there is no evidence that cheese from a small operation is more dangerous than cheese from a large operation,” although he cautions that all raw milk cheese, regardless of where it was produced, poses a potential risk.

There has been considerable on-line debate about the government’s actions in these cases.  Friends of Estrella Family Creamery have started a fund to help save the business (estrellacheese@wordpress.com).  Pete Kennedy, a lawyer writing for Farm to Consumer Legal Defense Fund, suggests that the FDA is overstepping their mandate in the Estrella recall, and in a similar recall in Missouri (www.farmtoconsumer.org/fda-ace-in-the-hole-kennedy.htm).  There are rumors flying in the cheese blogosphere about government conspiracies to shut down farmstead cheesemakers, and hints that the FDA is working in the interests of Big Cheese.

Kirk Robinson of the Washington State Department of Agriculture asserts that these rumors are unfounded.  “We have a double role here,” he explains.  “Our top priority is the safety of food, but we also want to ensure the success of small farms.”  When asked about the perceived hostility between the government and small businesses, he replied “we want to treat everyone the same.  If anything, we spend more time with the small business, providing technical support so that they can succeed.” 

It is easy to become frightened by these bacteria.  It is equally easy to become enraged by government agencies that seem to be standing in the way of small businesses while turning a blind eye to the issues inherent in large scale food production. Cheese lovers find themselves torn between wanting to simultaneously donate to the Help the Estrella Family Creamery fund and swearing off cheese entirely.  The truth of the matter is, everything we eat involves making complicated choices, often involves conflicting values.  We are used to thinking in terms of nutrition versus flavor, but we are also making value judgments about safety, environmental responsibility, and our economic system.  Nor is the issue of farmstead cheeses a clear-cut one, with safety on one side and artisanal small business on the other.  The most notorious recent E-coli outbreak was linked to mass-distributed packaged spinach, after all. 

Dr. Ellen Maccarone, Assistant Professor of Philosophy at Gonzaga University and a specialist in the ethics of food, summarizes the situation in this way:  “Local producers whose customers can know them and know their products is likely a better bet overall [than large-scale food companies].  When customers can know who produces the food and ask questions, then customers can make choices for themselves that reflect their values, whatever those might be.  When it comes to food, like so many other things, knowledge is empowering.”