A Chef Needs a Farmer
Late one afternoon in June, we left South Bend, heading east past the farms and over the rivers of southern Michigan. We had tickets to a five-course dinner by Roselily chef Eamonn McParland at Farrand Hall. We were running late and could’ve (should’ve) taken the interstate, but there’s so much to miss on the interstate. The drive was quiet as I peered out the window, noticing the little storefronts, interesting architectural features on the passing homes, and the lawns—many yellow and dying. It had been a dry spring.
Walking up to the historic 12-acre estate, we found two long tables buzzing with eighty lively guests donning sundresses and wide-brimmed hats. We took our seats and pulled out our bottle of wine, curious what the evening would hold.
The meal commenced with an opening welcome by James, co-owner of Farrand Hall. He shared that he and his partner Jacob renovated the estate and began hosting private dinners featuring some of the best chefs in the midwest. As he was speaking, a couple briskly entered the scene and filled the empty seats next to us. “Ah! Jon and Rachel of Butternut Farms!” James excitedly announced to the crowd. “We’re so glad you could finally make it out.”
As the couple settled in, we began chatting. We learned Jon has provided produce for Roselily since the restaurant’s opening, and each dish on the menu that evening would feature the freshest selections from his farm a few miles away. This seating arrangement turned out to be the culinary equivalent of watching ET with Spielberg.
An older farmer was seated on the other side of Jon and Rachel, and we heard murmurs between them of the drought. “How have you been holding up with this weather?” the older farmer asked. “It has been rough,” Jon replied. “There’s a ten-percent chance of rain tomorrow, so I’m not holding my breath.”
The heat was here too. In need of a respite, we were grateful when the servers brought the first course: hamachi and watermelon presented family-style on a wide blue willow platter with vibrant jewels of serrano, cilantro flowers, and nasturtium from the farm.
A lull before the next course allowed more conversation. “There’s a farmer close to us who’s well dried up,” Jon shared. “He can’t afford to drill a new well, so some customers launched a GoFundMe campaign to help him out.”
“I learned once only three in ten independent farmers make it through the first ten years of business,” Jon said. It’s a difficult path, and the challenges farmers face from an unpredictable climate only complicate these statistics. Looking down at my plate full of produce sown and harvested by the farmer seated next to me, I had the odd sensation of the distance I felt between myself and the food I typically ate.
The second course arrived: half-moon stuffed pasta called mezzelune accompanied by chanterelle mushrooms, pea sprouts, garlic scapes, and nettles. Nettles, Jon explained, feature jagged leaves covered with stinging hairs that require careful hand-harvesting by his team.
Jon’s passion for this work shone through his visibly exhausted exterior from a full day working on the farm. Twelve years ago, he began farming with a passion for creating beautiful, sustainable food. Now, he supplies to world-renowned chefs in the midwest. In the absence of rain, however, his crops were in jeopardy. “We have to pick and choose what to save. We’ve decided to not water the strawberries which only have a three-week harvest to save water for longer-producing crops like our tomatoes.”
It's hard work, and it should be hard. It's also a bit sad, that there were things that couldn't make it to our plates, and not for any reason you can't imagine. A farmer, seeing a lack of water makes a decision about what lives and what dies. And many twelve-hour days worth of strawberries were lost as a result.
The Roselily team continued sending courses: chicken sausage with fennel, white beans, romesco, and summer squash; short rib pastrami with duck fat potato salad, collard greens, and chow-chow; and finally, clafoutis made with labneh, blueberries, rhubarb, sorrel, topped with crushed meringue. Each plate was a work of art, more so, because I knew the cost.
“Eamonn and I have been talking all week working out the menu for tonight,” Jon shared. They first met when Eamonn worked at Cafe Navarre, and during his time at Render, Eamonn sourced produce from Jon’s farm. Now at Roselily, Eamonn builds a menu around seasonal produce from Butternut Farms. It’s a collaboration between chef, farmer, and the weather.
By the last course, the sun dipped below the trees and lightning bugs glowed above the grass. We shared a Lagavulin 12-year around the table. The evening was a beautiful celebration of the season’s offerings and a reminder of the effort it requires. Even in a dry season, we find a way to feast.
Cover photo courtesy of Farrand Hall.
