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KaiAugust 23, 2018

Why you should give a damn about feedlots

feedlot five star feature image

Pressure is mounting to ban the intensive farming practice found in feedlots. What are they, and why are they such a problem? Don Rowe explains

Fifteen minutes out of Ashburton, thousands upon thousands of cattle are penned in grassless paddocks. The cows are meat animals, spending their final days held in these so-called feedlots being “grain finished” before being slaughtered and sent to market here and abroad.

Today 44 of them were quarantined as the giant Five Star Beef feedlot received notice MPI suspected a Mycoplasma bovis breakout at the facility. Chief executive Peter Conley, speaking to Stuff, said the notice wouldn’t affect them at all, because “essentially all our cattle leave the property for slaughter anyway.”

Earlier this week both SAFE and Fish and Game called on government to ban feedlots, calling it an Americanisation of the farming process. I’m with the hippies – feedlots are ethically and ecologically unconscionable, and incongruous with the way we market one of our biggest export earners to the world.

Operational since 1991, ANZCO’s Five Star Beef is New Zealand’s only large-scale commercial feedlot. Its product, Wakanui Beef, is “grain finished”, the company says on its website, in “an idyllic, stress-free environment”, where cattle are “refreshed by breezes off the Pacific Ocean”. 

Let’s unpack that, because, as minister for agriculture Damien O’Connor said this week, “the image of pastoral farming is the one New Zealand promotes” – and feedlots don’t look anything like pastoral, stress-free or idyllic.

Five Star Beef outside Ashburton. Photo: RNZ

There is capacity for 19,000 cows on the Five Star feedlot, which comprises a series of roofless, grassless, weather-exposed pens. In the small gap between the pens and the ocean are man-made manure ponds. 

Ruminants, as cows, sheep, goats and other grazers are known, are so called because of their rumen, a remarkable “second stomach” filled with billions of microbes that allows them to absorb nutrients from grass by fermenting it prior to digestion. This evolutionary development is the difference between starving or growing into a 1000kg bull on grass alone.

The fermentation that occurs in the rumen produces a lot of gas, which cows normally burp out during rumination. But when a cow’s diet contains too much starch and too little fibre, like when they’re being “finished” with grain in a feedlot, for example, the microbes in the rumen are no longer able to work their magic, and instead a froth or foam forms inside the rumen. 

This traps gas inside the rumen, inflating it like a balloon until it literally asphyxiates the animal. Veterinarians can relieve the pressure, say by jamming a hose down the cow’s throat or a spike in its back, but it must be done before the animal suffocates.

Ruminants can be bred to tolerate larger amounts of grain with slightly less misery, as many destined for feedlots are, but grains nevertheless alter the acidity of the rumen, which is typically a pH-neutral environment.

This acidity gives cows a form of heartburn. “Acidotic” animals, as they’re called, go off their feed, salivate excessively, and even begin to eat dirt as a buffer against the burn. Eventually the condition can lead to ulcers, rumenitis and an overall weakening of the cow’s immune system, leaving them more vulnerable to the bacterial diseases that thrive in feedlots. The acidity can also eat away at the walls of the rumen, allowing bacteria to enter the bloodstream and eventually the liver of the cow.

Manure ponds between the ocean and the Five Star Beef feedlot. Photo: RNZ

This immuno-compromised cow then lives shoulder-to-shoulder in its own shit until the day it dies. And the manure these cows are living in can’t even be sprayed on other farms as fertiliser, because it’s so toxic. And that’s just the runoff they can catch.

In the Canterbury summer, when the feedlot is dry, the cows will likely kick shit-dust into one another’s eyes – maybe the only time you’ll see cattle weep for their circumstances.

There are other feedlots in New Zealand too, ones minister for the environment David Parker admits “haven’t been properly policed by the regional councils”.

“There’s no doubt when you have a rain event, the livestock effluent and the nutrients from the food residues have only one place to go and that’s into rivers, streams … the alternative is into the aquifer and I struggle to see how some of them are legal.”

Last year freshwater scientist Mike Joy described feedlots in the Hawke’s Bay as “as bad as you can get”. Eighteen months later, a local businessman is taking the regional council to the Environmental Court over its failure to take action

Fish and Game NZ called the continued existence of feedlots an indictment on New Zealand.

“The Ministry for the Environment is quite clear that sediment runoff is one of the big problems for New Zealand,” chief executive Martin Taylor told RNZ.

“We know it’s damaging the environment and yet we allow practices like feedlots to continue. Intensive farming is not good for the country.”

Drone footage of the Five Star Beef feedlot.

“Not good” is something of an understatement. In his book The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan likens feedlots to a Victorian nightmare of open sewerage and filth.

“As in 14th-century London, say, the workings of the metropolitan digestion remain vividly on display, the foodstuffs coming in, the streams of waste going out,” Pollan writes.

“The crowding into tight quarters of recent arrivals from all over, together with the lack of sanitation, has always been a recipe for disease. The only reason contemporary animal cities aren’t as plague-ridden or pestilential as their medieval human counterparts is a single historical anomaly: the modern antibiotic.”

Because ANZCO, a majority Japanese-owned company, was unavailable to comment when approached by RNZ, we don’t know what their antibiotic usage looks like. Overseas, however, cows who are delivered to feedlots offshore immediately begin a course of preventative antibiotics they will consume alongside their feed for the extent of their life.

In America, Michael Pollan writes, most of the antibiotics sold end up in animal feed. These antibiotics stave off the worst of the diseases that plague such a dirty and crowded environment, but also select for the strains of bacteria most resistant to antibiotics – bacteria that will one day infect us too.

Most of the microbes that find their way into our food are killed off by the strong acids in our stomachs, since they evolved in the pH-neutral environment of the rumen, says Pollan. But the acidic rumens of feedlot cows are like a boot camp for acid-resistant bacteria, which happen to also be antibiotic-resistant too.

And so the lifespan of a beef cow on a feedlot is decided by two metrics: how fast we can fatten them up, and how long their body can survive the process.

This is, ethically speaking, fucked up. And most people don’t even know it’s going on in New Zealand. 

The government has signalled they will step in by the first quarter of next year to provide national guidance to councils on feedlots. In the Herald, Rachel Stewart warns “a storm’” of animal cruelty allegations is coming. Ask Federated Farmers’ Miles Anderson what’s going on, however, and instead a dastardly vegan conspiracy is unearthed.

“SAFE’s agenda is to get rid of farmed animals. Animal welfare is a secondary concern for them.”

“They are vegan fundamentalists. I take most of what they say with a grain of salt. It would do them a world of good to have a nice leg of lamb.”

In a race to seem the most unhinged on the subject of animals, Federated Farmers are doing a commendable job of beating SAFE at their own game.

A simple, powerful sentiment borders one of the Ballymaloe gardens; and Darina Allen shares some wisdom with her students (Photos: Supplied)
A simple, powerful sentiment borders one of the Ballymaloe gardens; and Darina Allen shares some wisdom with her students (Photos: Supplied)

KaiAugust 23, 2018

How I found food nirvana in the Irish countryside

A simple, powerful sentiment borders one of the Ballymaloe gardens; and Darina Allen shares some wisdom with her students (Photos: Supplied)
A simple, powerful sentiment borders one of the Ballymaloe gardens; and Darina Allen shares some wisdom with her students (Photos: Supplied)

Food entrepreneur and Dietary Requirements co-host Sophie Gilmour is living her best life at the famous Ballymaloe Cookery School in Ireland. In her inaugural diary, she introduces us to the inimitable Darina Allen, the school’s founder, and geeks out on all things food.

WEEK ONE

After my friend Camille and I sold our business, Bird on a Wire, earlier this year we made the decision to treat ourselves to five weeks at Ballymaloe Cookery School in County Cork, Ireland. All we knew of Ballymaloe was what we’d seen on Instagram, but we had a feeling that living on a 100-acre organic farm in the Irish countryside while geeking out on all things food would be a bit of us.

I arrived on Sunday evening and was cheerfully greeted “you’re very welcome” by the team here. The Irish charm was already working its magic on me — what a lovely thing to say, I thought. I was escorted to my home for the next five weeks, a charming pink cottage covered in ivy and flowers, and told I could help myself to dinner in my own time. In the kitchen, a fresh pot of minestrone sat atop the stove, and on the bench next to it was a wooden board with a fresh loaf of organic sourdough and some homemade butter. I waited until I was alone to perform a victorious fist pump.

I’m living in The Pink Cottage with two others in our early 30s, and four girls in their early 20s. The five-week summer cookery course has 34 people in it, from 14 different countries, ranging in age from 21 to 71.

Week one has been a thrilling induction into Ballymaloe by its famous co-founder Darina Allen. Our first day was her 70th birthday and she generously spent the entire morning with us — introducing us to our welcome breakfast, item by item, almost entirely produced from the cows, hens and gardens here on the farm, and showing us around the property.

On our walking tour, Darina waxed lyrical about compost (liquid gold!), waste (blasphemy!) and soil nutrition (a modern tragedy). She holds strong views about the diminishing quality of modern food, and the challenging climate in which our farmers and growers are required to produce it. Darina tells us that farmers in Ireland are lucky if they get a third of the price on the supermarket shelf, and that they are happy with a crop if they harvest 45% of it because the rest gets turned back into the soil for being too big, small or imperfect for the market. Given my recent exit from the poultry game, I particularly enjoyed Darina’s chicken-related rant: “Cheap chickens are cheap for a very good reason. You can’t produce wholesome, nourishing meat for a cheap price.” Hear hear.

“Any eejit can grow tomatoes!” (Photos: Supplied)

Darina is passionate about gardening, and appears eager to teach us what she knows: “Look how important lavender is for gardens!” she shouts, pointing at the hive of bee activity on a nearby plant. She suggests that those of us who are yet to find our green thumbs should start with tomatoes — “any eejit can grow tomatoes!”

Darina is a wealth of information, and is clearly up to date with food-related research. The school appears to constantly test its recipes to ensure relevance and success — for example, in light of recent scientific findings that sugar in Ireland has become much sweeter over time, they have amended all their recipes by decreasing the sugar by 20%.

Darina is resourceful in a way that feels ironically “on trend”, suggesting that we collect food scraps in a container in the freezer and make a celebratory pot of stock only when it’s full because “you use just as much time and gas making a big pot as a small one!” She doesn’t bow to modern food trends: “Quiches are made on cream, not milk. If you’re going to make it, it may as well be delicious.” She even kept the Time magazine cover that broke the story that butter isn’t bad for us in 2014, because “it was amusing for my soul”.

Above all, Darina is grateful for the spoils of the farm — and her gratitude is contagious. She suggests that if you keep hens you might have extra eggs to take along to a dinner party “instead of a dodgy bottle of wine or something”. She has a strong connection to the land — repeating mantras like “the quality of the soil and the quality of the cow’s feed determines the quality of the milk, the butter and the cheese”, and she is passionate about food, just like us.

I have at times felt a little silly for the extra emphasis I place on food in my life, but I’m in great company here. Darina today taught us about the 25 different varieties of tomato grown on the farm and veered off into the most wonderful speech: “Look! Home-grown tomatoes so juicy you need to eat them in the bath! Look how beautiful it is! It’s so lovely! Sometimes I feel compelled to say grace, which sounds funny, but when the ingredients are so wonderful, I want to thank Mother Nature, or the gardeners — you don’t quite get that from a chicken nugget or a fish finger, do you?”

Our routine is under way — we watch a cooking demonstration each afternoon, then spend the following morning cooking what we learned. There is one teacher for every six students and we are partnered up with a new buddy each week. Darina has already taught us how to make Irish soda bread and five types of soft cheese. We’re adjusting to having a three-course meal each lunchtime (someone’s gotta do it!), washed down with water and kefir fresh from the “bubble shed”, and we’re beginning to wonder if this may just be the best five weeks of our lives.

Sophie Gilmour (left) with a new mate. The 34 students range in age from 21 to 71 and come from 14 different countries (Photos: Supplied)

WEEKLY LOWDOWN

Sophie:

Best meal Lamb and labneh toasts with pomegranate and mint.

Best tip When roasting or boiling beetroot, keep the root and the base of the stalks on to trap in the nutrients.

Best recipe Spring onion oil — genius, useful, super impressive and delicious! See recipe below.

Feeling after week one If heaven was a place on earth, it might just be Ballymaloe.

Fun fact Jerusalem artichokes are the vegetable with the greatest amount of inulin, a great promoter of healthy gut biome.

Anything else? I promise I’ll go for three runs next week!

Camille:

Best meal Lunch on the first day — too many dishes to mention!

Best tip Boil pasta for the first two minutes in water with carefully measured salt. Cover and let the pasta sit for the rest of the cooking time. Perfectly al dente every single time.

Best recipe Shrikhand (Indian yoghurt-based dessert with saffron and pistachios). See recipe below.

Feeling after week one Exhausted, exhilarated, encouraged.

Fun fact Between a quarter and a third of people come to Ballymaloe Cookery School with an intolerance (not allergy) to gluten or diary. At the end of the course, there are zero. You cannot deny the link between REAL food and how it nourishes our body. This is music to my ears! As Darina said, the more nutritionally dense food is, the less you need of it.

Anything else? Everyone asked why I was coming to Ballymaloe when I already knew so much, owned so many cookbooks and filled my whole life with food. They also all asked if we were just learning how to cook potatoes and cabbage (ha ha). Just having the privilege of listening to Darina is something I’d like everyone to experience — it would change their whole outlook on food and eating.

Potato and onion soup with spring onion oil (Photos: Supplied)

SPRING ONION OIL

200g spring onion tops (the green part)

325ml sunflower oil

Roughly chop the green tops and blend with the oil in a food processor on full speed for 4 minutes, then strain through a cheese cloth and leave to hang in the fridge.

Freeze the strained oil. Once frozen, scrape the frozen oil (gel) into a new container, leaving behind the frozen onion water/residue. This will give you perfectly clear green oil.

SHRIKHAND

Serves 8-10

2kg thick homemade yoghurt (or Greek yoghurt)

generous pinch of saffron strands

1 tablespoon warm water

¼ teaspoon roughly crushed green cardamom seeds

200g caster sugar

2 tablespoons coarsely chopped pistachio nuts

Put a square muslin in a bowl. Pour in the yoghurt, tie the ends and allow to drip overnight hanging above the bowl.

Transfer the dripped yoghurt into a clean bowl, infuse the saffron in a tablespoon of warm water in a small bowl and stir every last drop into the yoghurt.

Remove the seeds from the cardamom pods, crush lightly, add to the yoghurt with the caster sugar and mix well.

Turn into a serving dish, chill, sprinkle the top with roughly chopped pistachios and serve.

Delicious on its own, but also memorable with summer berries (when in season).

Recipes courtesy of Ballymaloe Cookery School