WHY THE FARM BILL MATTERS

Every five years or so, Washington, D.C. pays attention to agricultural policy long enough to whip up something called the Farm Bill. The latest concoction is due out in 2007, and policymakers and lobbyists are already working furiously to influence what ingredients will be included this time around. Debate over the Farm Bill should be front-page news. After all, it affects everything from which foods are grown on farmland and how safe that food is, to what our children eat at school and what claims can appear on food labels. The Farm Bill even determines how food stamps and other nutrition assistance programs are distributed. No piece of federal legislation affects our supper tables more than the Farm Bill. And yet it's virtually ignored by the vast majority of the public. To paraphrase former Texas Ag Commissioner Jim Hightower, most people's idea of a good farm program is Hee Haw.

That's too bad. Through a combination of benign neglect, outdated ideas, and a concerted effort on the part of narrowly focused special interest groups, our ag policy has evolved during the past half century into a beast that has less and less to do with creating a healthy food and farming system that benefits consumers, farmers, and our environment. As you read these words, consider this: as an individual taxpayer you shell out around $180 annually to support farm programs that pay farmers for producing a handful of commodity crops. (When one factors in the Farm Bill's nutrition support programs like Food Stamps and the Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) initiative, the total cost for each taxpayer is around $447 annually.)

But there are many hidden price tags attached to our federal farm policy. In some ways, our Farm Bill is the antithesis of local food security, as it encourages monocultural production and penalizes local, diverse farming systems. The Farm Bill's payment system encourages massive production of a few select commodities-corn, soybeans, rice, wheat and cotton-using chemicals and energy intensive systems. That's one major reason the Environmental Protection Agency has labeled agriculture one of the biggest sources of nonpoint water pollution-the kind that comes from many, hard-to-trace, indirect sources such as field runoff and manure lagoon leakage. This focus on all-out raw commodity production has also played a major role in creating a situation where a typical meal travels over a thousand miles before it reaches our plates. What incentives do Minnesota farmers have to raise vegetables for local markets when the government will pay them to raise corn and soybeans for export?

In a state like Minnesota, for example, diverse farming systems that used to consist of dozens of crop and livestock enterprises have become monocultural one-trick ponies. In some parts of western Minnesota, 90 percent or more of the farmland is planted to either corn or soybeans. Livestock, which traditionally provided an excellent way for farms to add value to their grains and forages while recycling nutrients in the form of manure, are increasingly being raised on specialized, large-scale factory operations. They are fed corn and soybeans that are raised in the next county, the next state, or even in another country. Even though such livestock operations do not receive direct subsidies, they do get a substantial indirect subsidy in the form of corn- and soybean- based feed that is kept cheap by the Farm Bill.

Agriculture should be about food. But our federal farm policy has little to do with feeding ourselves, and more to do with raw commodity production. A prime example of this disconnect is the USDA's Food Pyramid. The Pyramid, which promotes a balanced diet that contains fruits and vegetables, has little relation to what the USDA pays farmers to raise.

"The disparity points out an awkward truth about the USDA: what it urges people to eat to remain healthy does not match what it pays farmers to grow," writes Andrew Martin in the Chicago Tribune.

It's telling that perhaps one of the most innovative programs for getting fresh, local foods to schoolchildren is administered not by the USDA, but the Department of Defense.

ROOM FOR REFORM

Agribusiness firms and their allies in Congress defend the current Farm Bill by saying it keeps family farmers on the land. That was true in the past, but it's less so these days. In 2004, for example, 10 percent of the richest farms received $11 billion in total commodity subsidies, more than double what the rest of the operations receiving subsidies got that year. Farm program loopholes and the lack of firm payment limits allow individual operations to collect subsidies that exceed $1 million in some cases. The Washington Post ran yet another exposé this summer on how the farm program is being abused by wealthy landowners, many of whom have never once sat on a tractor. A University of Minnesota
analysis of rural census numbers and cropping trends shows that often the more corn and soybeans planted in a county, the steeper the drop in population.

A recent bipartisan effort to create a firm $250,000 payment limit-far more than the typical family-sized farm would ever qualify for-has gone nowhere in Congress. Multinational grain companies, factory livestock operations that rely on cheap corn and soybeans for feed, and mega-grain and cotton producers like things just the way they are. It's no wonder they are pushing for an extension of the current Farm Bill in 2007.

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Given the dysfunctional mess the Farm Bill has turned out to be, it's tempting to call for a complete dismantling of the whole thing. But not so fast: there are still over two million farmers in this country, the majority of whom are not abusing the system. They have a wealth of knowledge and expertise in the areas of crop production, animal husbandry, and land stewardship. Farmers and ranchers own and manage half of the land area in the United States. It has become clear in recent years that diverse family farms provide many public benefits that go beyond the price of a gallon of milk or a box of cereal. Research on sustainable farming systems in Minnesota and elsewhere is showing that farms can help protect water quality, improve wildlife habitat, and provide other ecological benefits-all while producing food for local consumption. Such contributions to the public good are difficult to put a price tag on, making it necessary to have policies in place that support and encourage such farming systems. It's not easy to transition a farm from the typical corn-bean-feedlot operation to a more diverse farm that provides multiple public benefits while feeding local consumers. Sustainable agriculture, not to mention alternative marketing ventures such as direct sales and Community Supported Agriculture, is management intensive. A support system is needed to help farmers successfully make the switch.

That's where a new, food-based, consumer-friendly Farm Bill can come in.

The current Farm Bill is a good place to start. In fact, hidden here and there in the fine print are some good programs that promote local foods and sustainable agriculture. Now they need to be given full funding and expanded considerably to make them more than good-sounding ideas. Within the past year I've been on several farms that have received modest payments through a new program launched in the 2002 Farm Bill called the Conservation Security Program. CSP for short, it pays farmers to use environmentally friendly farming practices like grass-based livestock production, cover crops that protect water and soil, and wildlife habitat restoration. Some of these farms are using their CSP payments to increase their operation's ability to provide fresh, local food to consumers.

In addition, there are Midwestern farmers who have used grant money made available through the Farm Bill to build processing facilities so they can supply local institutions with fresh food. And the USDA's Farm to Cafeteria program
supports citizen-led efforts to bring locally grown food to local schools. Never heard of these programs? Neither have most farmers. Such initiatives are vastly overshadowed by the Farm Bill's commodity payment program.

In 2007, agribusiness will be pushing for even more ways to promote production of commodities like corn as the demand for ethanol skyrockets. If they succeed, that means, more than ever, we will have not a Farm Bill, or even a food bill, but a cheap raw commodity bill.

But Cargill and Archer Daniels Midland aren't the only ones making their voices heard in D.C. these days. Cracks in the Farm Bill edifice are starting to appear. Debate over the past three Farm Bills has featured increasingly greater input from environmental and sustainable agriculture groups. CSP and the Farm to Cafeteria program are the result of such increased input. And it's beginning to look like the 2007 Farm Bill will have another new, potentially influential, participant at the table: groups concerned about the safe production of local foods for all consumers. Consumer groups are teaming up with sustainable agriculture and environmental organizations to get more funding and support for programs that promote local, sustainable food production-true homeland security.

And don't underestimate the power of consumers to influence policy when given a chance. Before the USDA passed final rules for a national organic label in 2002, it proposed standards that were significantly weaker than what farmers and consumers had been calling for. Within a matter of weeks, over 275,000 public comments-a new record-were directed at the USDA, almost all of them calling for stricter organic standards. The Agriculture Department gave in and eventually passed standards that were more in line with what consumers and organic farmers wanted.

"Don't mess with us. It blows up in the USDA's face every time," says Jim Riddle, a pioneer in the organic movement from Winona, Minnesota. A handful of farm state lawmakers may write the Farm Bill, but it takes an entire Congress to pass it. That means every voter, every eater, can have a say in how it is written.

Meanwhile, consumers can use their pocketbooks to show the agricultural community in general that there is a demand out there for a different kind of food and farming system. As crop and livestock farmer Tom Frantzen likes to say: "When people make a buying choice, they are casting a ballot for the type of food system they want. That sends a tremendously powerful message back to rural America about what sort of farming is valued."

Brian DeVore is the editor of the Minnesota-based Land Stewardship Letter, and was a contributor to The Farm as Natural Habitat: Reconnecting Food Systems with Ecosystems (Island Press 2002).

Sandy soil presses into my Keen sandals as I stand among the oldest commercial grape vines in Minnesota. I am stalking the rising sun to capture a glimpse of grapes at daybreak. The sky is already alight with streaks of orange and pink when the crow of a rooster reminds me that this vineyard is an anomaly among corn and soybeans. The road sign directing visitors to this particular swatch of vineyard is surrounded by predictable stalks of corn. No doubt that this is Midwestern farmland. Come winter, frozen ground and drifts of snow will plunge the landscape into legendary severity. I am amazed as I linger among twisted vines that have survived oppressive humidity and below zero temperatures for some thirty-three years. In fact, these magnificent twining plants have surpassed mere survival-they are fertile with broad jagged leaves and clusters of ripening fruit. My pursuit to define Minnesota wine has led me to this morning, seeking to connect to a burgeoning regional industry that is as captivating as our romanticized views of the bold voyageurs who embodied the amalgamation of the old and new worlds.

Voyageurs, the French Canadians who paddled birch-bark canoes into the Great Lakes region, trading European staples for native fur pelts, make a fitting metaphor for wines from a climate typically considered too harsh to grow traditional wine grapes. While native varieties of grapes have survived in Minnesota, they do not produce quality wine. There were, of course, the traditional fruit wines developed by farmers. But these were only bottled for their own tables. Despite the challenges, local grape growers, farmers and winemakers have pioneered in an unlikely region, combining old and new world harvests to produce award-winning wines.

Alexis Bailly Vineyard, the oldest in Minnesota, has earned over 45 national honors. It also carries on the namesake of the family's very own voyageur ancestor, Alexis Bailly. Nan Bailly, second-generation winemaker at ABV, is no stranger to pruning shears, casks, or hardship. Growing up in the shadow of her father David Bailly's dream to create a new viticultural region taught her a truism of the French winemakers: in order to make good wine, grapes must suffer. The family originally planted old world vines known for their wine-producing quality, but they were not enduring of the harsh climate. The reality of growing such varieties in Minnesota pressed the Bailly family to adopt such laborious methods as protecting the vines by removing them from their trellises after harvest and burying them in the dirt. "I've been growing grapes for 30 years," Nan says, "and I've had to replant five times." Grapes do suffer in Minnesota: winter freezes the vines, hail damages budding fruit, and prolonged heat stresses the plants. But for all their suffering, Nan understands that tending to the right grape can make her task as winemaker easier.

Simply put, Nan is a good winemaker. She learned to love the lifestyle working her father's vineyard as a kid and she mastered winemaking in France, returning home from the Old World with a traditional French recipe for Ratafia. Considered a fortified red dessert wine, Bailly's Ratafia gives off a heady scent of oranges, herbs, and spices. It is warming to sip on a cold autumn day and it brings out the best in a hand-made truffle. It's one of those traditional wines that differs from region to region, reflecting the qualities of place. Bailly's newest release is aptly named Voyageur. It is ABV's unique expression of combining the vineyard's oldest vines with its newest plantings. It also demonstrates Bailly's ability to create a linear wine from bouquet to finish-the kind of wine consumers expect to taste.

The newer plantings at ABV include cold-hardy vines developed by the University of Minnesota, which established a formal breeding program for wine grapes in the mid-1980s. Combining 100 years of research with that of pioneering viticulturist Elmer Swenson, the university ascended as a world expert in cold-hardy varieties of wine grapes. Swenson spent a lifetime developing varieties to withstand extreme cold yet produce a quality wine. One challenge is agricultural: to grow a grape that can survive 20 below zero. The other is production: to create quality wine. The vine of the Frontenac grape (first introduced by the University of Minnesota in 1996) has fruited after surviving 33 degrees below zero, yet winemakers have to overcome the grape's high acidity. While challenging, the Frontenac has proven versatile in capable hands and has thrust Minnesota into a promising viticultural region only dreamed of by visionaries such as David Bailly and Elmer Swenson. The new voyageurs of the day are rendezvousing.

In 1978, when ABV released its first wine, it was the lone outpost to an industry yet to come. Today, due to the innovative spirit of Minnesota grape growers supported by a strong University of Minnesota program, there are 23 commercial wineries and vineyards. Fieldstone Vineyards, 12 miles southeast of Redwood Falls, is one such newcomer. In a flat expanse of prairie where the tallest mark on the horizon is a grain silo, the Reding Century Farm opened its winery in 2003. Eldest of the family-owned business is Don Reding who remembers milking cows in the circa 1930s barn that now serves as a tasting room. Yet, some things have not changed. Reding jokes that on Ladies Night, "What happens in the hay loft stays in the hay loft." Another expression of humor is found on a bottle of Fieldstone wine labeled "Wine-ing Farmer." You can tell that Reding is enjoying this new enterprise, growing hybrid vines of Frontenac, La Crescent, Frontenac Gris, and Marquette in fields that once yielded only corn and soybeans. Reding's son-in-law Charlie Quast understands that these hybrids are unusual grapes, but Fieldstone has a naturally talented winemaker in partner Mark Wedge. Quast is confident that, "Out of our 14 wines there will be at least one style you will like." He has hopes that Minnesota wine will be the economic boost needed in rural areas.

Vincent Negret, Cannon River Winery

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Don Reding, Fieldstone Vineyards

If the local market continues to build, growing grapes will be an agricultural boost. Northern Vineyards, founded in 1983 as the Minnesota Winegrowers Cooperative, grows most of its grapes in small vineyards across southern Minnesota. The winery itself is set in scenic Stillwater. Crofut Family Vineyards is the first vineyard to grow grapes in Scott County. Walking the vineyard with owner and winemaker Don Crofut revealed the value of growing good grapes. Crofut knows the vines by sight and easily named off each row of hybrids. He doesn't hesitate to pluck a handful of grapes to taste the development of the fruit. His expert palate can already name the notes these grapes will develop as wine. My novice tongue could only tell that I was eating wine. Crofut went on to describe his work in the vineyard, combining different hybrids at the vine as though he's making wine at the soil level. When you consider the time it takes to develop a vine that won't die in the winter, the four years it takes to bear fruit, the ten years it takes the vine to mature, and the process of crushing, aging, and bottling grapes, you have to marvel at the patience of the grape grower. One day, Crofut will produce his own legacy, a Crofut vine. In the meantime, he will continue to harvest with friends and rely on his grape growing skills to lend to the quality of the wine he will finally get to sell next year.

Minnesota wines can also mean an economic boost to existing fruit farmers ready to join the experience. Consider the artisans of Forestedge winery. Paul and Sharon Shuster, both crafters in wood, poured the foundation of their dream winery back in 1978. They were convinced that they could make commercial wine out of Minnesota fruit. In 2000 they, along with partner John Wilmo, released 5,000 bottles of pure fruit wine and sold out in six weeks. Shuster likes the idea that this venture is a local endeavor sustaining a community's economy. They buy black currants from Hastings, strawberries from Park Rapids, and pay local grandmas and kids good money to pull rhubarb. Shuster says that some of their wines taste like you would expect; strawberry wine has a definite strawberry nose and finish. But wines like their signature rhubarb can be very similar to a dry Riesling and blueberry wine is reminiscent of a merlot. While Forestedge has won national awards, Shuster is most proud of their recent award for Best of Show at the Twin Cities Food and Wine Experience. As Shuster put it, "That one means more to us because it's local."

In addition to agriculture, part of the boost to rural Minnesota will be the tourism that local wineries and vineyards are creating. Like the voyageurs whose travels eventually sparked the journey of a nation, local wineries and vineyards are creating a mystique others want to experience. Three Rivers Wine Trail explores six wineries and one vineyard/nursery all along three waterways: the St. Croix, Minnesota, and Mississippi Rivers. The journey itself is a beautiful ride into river valleys, bluffs, and countryside that is like a calming balm to the stress of modern life. Each destination captures the romance of the vineyard with trellised vines, tasting rooms, and special events. Events range from bring-your-own picnics to bluegrass music to vineyard tours to actual grape stomping. Each season offers opportunity to discover: a new taste of the latest vintage in spring, a tour of the growing grapes in summer, a celebration of the harvest in autumn, and the chance to purchase unique wines as holiday gifts in winter. Three Rivers Wine Trail of Minnesota can be found online at www.threeriverswinetrail.com.

Consider also, that there are myriad journeys to take in addition to the newly designated wine trail. Mix and match your own destinations and tours, taking in bike trails,
fly-fishing, and antiquing along the way. Often the wineries will have excellent suggestions for dinner or you can even consider staying in a rural bed and breakfast. Remember, too, that there are certain expectations at each tasting room: ask if there is a fee, know it is okay to swish and spit (locate the proper basin first), mind your alcohol intake, and leave the glass behind.

Whether you marvel at the agricultural feat represented by the development of cold-hardy wine grapes, or simply enjoy the character of our own local wine country, know that those in this new local industry also seek to earn a reputation for Minnesota wines. As Cannon River Winery's master winemaker Vincent Negret puts it, "This [industry] is for real. Make it or break it. It's important for us to start winning competitions." Negret is a third-generation winemaker from Columbia with a degree in Viticulture from Fresno State. Escaping chaotic pressures in his native Columbia, Negret found employment in Minnesota as a winemaker. He landed in Minneapolis during a blizzard, thinking, "What planet have I come to?" After the shock of snow passed, Negret fell in love with Minnesota and hooked up with Cannon River Winery owners John and Maureen Maloney as they began developing their business. You can see Negret at work because there is no divider between the tasting room and winery
located in the old Lee Chevrolet Garage on Mill Street in Cannon Falls. His hand-crafted wines are already gaining attention for Cannon River Winery. Other budding wineries are also already displaying medals and blue ribbons that set the expectation for quality.

Back at the Alexis Bailly Vineyard, where grapes suffer and winemakers continue to lead the state in awards, I am still waiting for dawn. I was not aware how slowly the sun
actually rises until I took the time to slow down and watch. It represents a mere fraction of the patience a winemaker must nurture. As I stand here waiting for the glowing orange globe to crest the tops of the trellised vines, I understand the beauty that draws us in to fuse with the land under our feet. I have tasted this beauty in a grape, found its essence in a wine glass, and feel grateful that a handful of new voyageurs have descended upon Minnesota.