Sap Bush Hollow Farm

The other day I was transcribing an interview I’d conducted for a story on an Amish organic farmer living in the mid-west. Listening to the hum of autumn cicadas that filled the background of the tape, I recalled standing out in his hazy fields, discussing his chickens, fencing options, and alternative means for predator control. Then, there was an odd turn in the conversation. I looked past him and saw a dairy farm just over his hill. I nodded toward it.
“Who runs that farm over there?”
“That would be my brother. He has a grass-based dairy.”
I had hoped this was the case.
“He ever sell any of his milk direct?” I asked a little furtively.
“Oh, no!” Replied the farmer emphatically. “That would be illegal. Milk is never sold off the farm.”
“Oh,” I said, in a softer voice. “That’s too bad, ‘cuz I was looking to buy some raw milk.”
There was a pause as he stroked his whiskered jaw. “Raw milk?” he asked.
“Yes, we carried some with us from New York. Now we’re out.”
There was another long pause, followed by a slowly drawn out question. “Are you familiar with the Weston A. Price Foundation?”
These were magical words. They were the secret code for admittance into the raw milk speak-easy.
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.
The farmer breathed deeply, then replied, “We’re in the same boat then. We have a couple Jersey cows. We can get you as much as you want.”

I’d hit a gold mine. After a week and a half on the road and many farm visits, my husband and I had found some kindred spirits who could set us up with what we craved.

Raw milk is fresh, unpasteurized milk, straight from the cow. Unlike milk from the store, which has been heated in order to kill any and all germs, raw milk still has the lactic-producing bacteria that fight pathogens, as well as the enzymes that help our bodies to absorb its nutrients. Raw milk is alive. It is also illegal in many parts of the country for farmers to sell it. The Weston A. Price Foundation, the password to the raw milk speak-easy, is a force behind a movement to change legislation and enable farmers to sell their raw milk.

Pasteurization is purportedly done to protect consumers from infections and diseases, such as tuberculosis and salmonella, and there is no question that there was a time in history that it brought immeasurable benefit. But tuberculosis is extremely rare in this country today, and most of the recent outbreaks of salmonella happened in pasteurized, not raw milk. The real boon that pasteurization brings to the modern dairy industry is that it lengthens the shelf life of the milk. Once pasteurized, milk can be stored for longer periods and, therefore, shipped all over the country. What was once a locally grown product became an agricultural commodity, another element in our nation’s policy of keeping food cheap through industrial mass production.

We raw drinkers are skeptical of the healthful benefits of pasteurization. We believe good animal husbandry, proper handling practices, and clean equipment do more to ensure the safety of milk than cooking it until it’s dead. Because pasteurization destroys bad and good bacteria, we feel this practice actually widens the allowance of error and covers up sloppy handling.

But these technical and political considerations only scratch the surface of why we fresh milk drinkers have resorted to the raw underground. Raw milk has rich flavor and body, unlike the flat tasting liquids available in the grocery store. Fresh milk from the cow carries the slightest hint of her sweet scent; it is nectarous on the tongue, and fills the mouth with a soft buttery finish. It soothes the aching belly, calms the frazzled nerves, helps the sleepless to slumber, and satiates the soul. No wine, distilled spirit or drug in the world can approximate the effect of one mug of freshly chilled raw milk.

Yet the best part of the beverage is not even that. One cannot purchase raw milk from an anonymous figure standing at the grocery store register. It cannot come from faceless, all-powerful corporations. It cannot come with the guarantee of the watchful eye of government inspectors. Raw milk is passed to you through the farmers’ hands. The assurance of a safe glass of raw milk means looking the farm family in the eyes, knowing how they grow the food, knowing first-hand of their integrity. Purchasing raw milk is not merely a commercial transaction. It is an act of faith and trust between the farmer and the buyer. One is entrusted to grow the food with care; the other is entrusted with protecting the farmers’ right to grow it. To accept this drink, without the layers of so-called protective treatments and bureaucratic inspections, is to accept more than simply nourishment, flavor, and ideals. It is accepting a glass of fellowship