Our September/October issue includes a feature on the Belle Fourche River valley. Butte County is a West River oasis, thanks to the Belle Fourche Irrigation District, a century-old project that can be traced back to 1885. Bernie Hunhoff took several photos in the area last summer while working on the story. Here are some that didn’t make the magazine.
Tag: agriculture
Spring Branding in Gregory County
Branding season is in full swing across South Dakota’s colorful cattle country. Family and neighbors gather to”work the cattle,” which includes not just the brand but vaccinations, castration and anything else that may need attention. The work is done amidst the soulful background bawling of momma cows who are temporarily separated from their babies. Here are some photos from the Sutton Ranch, northwest of Bonesteel in the beautiful breaks of the Missouri River in Gregory County. Photos by Bernie and Katie Hunhoff.
Christmas On The Farm
Well, it’s that time of year…
The debate of when Black Friday shopping should begin has finally settled down until next year. Christmas carols are being played in nearly every store and Christmas tree pictures are consuming Facebook.
Christmas isn’t any different in our house than yours. My Christmas trees are all set up and my farmer spent a Sunday afternoon after chores hanging our Christmas lights. And I have nearly all my presents wrapped and under the tree, or locked in the storage room.
We have debated the”best” way to do Christmas morning, and the discussion usually turns to whether or not it will blizzard on Christmas Day. My first year as a new wife I spent sitting in a pickup watching gates while the guys moved piles and piles of snow from our feed yards. That night we cuddled on the couch with frozen pizza — definitely not the way I grew up! I can think of only one time I missed a holiday celebration in my family, so working all day on Christmas was a new thing for me. But when it comes to snow, it’s best to stay on top of it. In South Dakota we can get enough snow to completely cover an entire fence, which means cattle can simply walk away. And sometimes we have to get snow out of the feed bunks before we can even feed cattle for the day. Moving snow takes time — lots and lots of time.
On holidays on our farm, we try to rotate holiday chores so not all the guys are working on every single holiday. This year it’s our year for Christmas chores, but if it snows a lot it will become an”all hands on deck” approach.
Because it’s our holiday for chores we are still talking about the best way to do Santa, especially since our 3-year-old knows all about Santa and presents. But I can promise you that Santa will come to our house. And I am going to do my best to keep a very excited 3-year-old away from presents until Daddy finally gets home.
On Christmas I pray for mild weather — a perfect dusting of snow to give us a white Christmas. Because no matter what the day looks like, family doesn’t come first — cattle come first. They eat before we do, which means the excitement of Christmas morning sometimes comes in early afternoon or evening. We plan a delicious meal that we may or may not get to cook. Sometimes we just push it off for another day, and instead pop some frozen pizza in the oven.
What matters most is getting together as a family and attending church. And I think we will really enjoy seeing the sparkle of the day itself in our little girl’s eye.
Happy Holidays, from our family to yours!
Morgan Kontz lives on a farm near Colman with her husband, Jason, and two children. She blogs about her experiences as a first generation South Dakota farm wife and writes a monthly agriculture column for the South Dakota Magazine website.
Record Harvest
Fall is in full swing in South Dakota and farmers across the state are hard at work in the fields. Warmer than average temps and dry weather are aiding this year’s harvest. The USDA predicts South Dakota farmers will harvest their second largest corn crop as well as a record soybean crop. Sorghum production in South Dakota is also up 73 percent. Here some photos from farms around our state.
Of Birds and Baseball
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What comes to mind when you’re asked to think about South Dakota? Two images rise to the top of my list: the iconic ring-necked pheasant and amateur baseball on a summer night, and it seems that no where in South Dakota are these more ingrained in the local culture than in Spink County.
Many other cities in South Dakota call themselves”The Pheasant Capitol of the World,” but Redfield has claimed the title since June of 1908. That’s when a group of city leaders acquired three pairs of pheasants from Grants Pass, Oregon, and released them in Hagmann’s Grove, just north of Redfield. The newcomers seemed to do well in Spink County, and in 1919 the first one-day open season on roosters was held. Pheasants have since become the state bird and have transformed the state’s outdoor tourism industry. Thousands of resident and non-resident hunters will roam the fields when pheasant season opens on the third Saturday of October.
The national pastime has also been an important part of life in Spink County, and affects those who are only tangentially connected to the area. ESPN.com writer David Schoenfield wrote a tribute to baseball in Redfield that appeared in our May/June issue. Schoenfield’s father grew up in Redfield, and later brought his wife and children back to his hometown. Among the memories that still stand out for Schoenfield are baseball games on Redfield’s emerald green diamond.
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| Pheasants were introduced near Redfield in 1908. Now they come in fiberglass. |
His article prompted a reader to share the memories he has of watching Redfield win the state amateur baseball championship on its home turf in 1954. Redfield had amassed an early 10-0 lead, but Aberdeen slowly chipped away until it was 10-9 in the ninth inning. Aberdeen had the bases loaded with their most feared hitter, Blackie Engelhart, coming to bat. With one out, Engelhart crushed a ball that seemed destined to be a grand slam, but Redfield’s center fielder leaped and caught it before it sailed over the fence. Then he wheeled around and fired the ball to the second baseman for a double play (the runners had been certain Engelhart would at least have a base hit, and took off running as the ball soared into the outfield).
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| Redfield is the hub of activity in Spink County. |
Spink County was also the site of a unique baseball battle in 1920. Redfield had secured a professional team, but because the Congregational church owned the field and grandstand, no games were allowed on Sundays. Ten miles south in Tulare, Mike Anderson, editor of the town newspaper and manager of the Tulare baseball team, invited the Redfield squad to play its games there, provided Redfield would finance the cost of a new grandstand.
Both towns agreed, the grandstand was constructed in record time and games began. That’s when the Methodists of Tulare began to suspect something might be amiss. They thought the charging of admission on Sunday might violate one of South Dakota’s”blue laws.”
Six Methodist church members agreed to attend a Sunday game. Once they had purchased tickets, they filed a statement at the courthouse in Redfield. The judge ultimately ruled that Sunday baseball could continue, and admission could be charged, provided a separate area was maintained for those who wished to watch the games for free.
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| Chief Drifting Goose was a thorn in the side to Spink County’s early settlers. |
Spink County has even produced a Major League Baseball player. Deacon Phillippe grew up learning to play baseball in the small town of Athol. As a member of the Pittsburgh Pirates, Phillippe defeated Cy Young in the first World Series game ever played in 1903. He won 189 games in a 13-year career that began when he was 27.
Long before the days of pheasants and baseball, the settlers who trickled into Spink County as early as the 1850s had to contend with the notorious Chief Drifting Goose. His Hunkpati band of Yanktonai was headquartered at Armadale, an island in the James River four miles northeast of Mellette. He’s remembered as a peace-loving leader who preferred pranking homesteaders to violence. Legend says he once stole the clothes from a settler and then made him run back to his sod shanty naked. When railroad surveyors marked a line through his encampment, he moved the stakes. Eventually the rail was routed through Northville, a more respectful 10 miles west of Drifting Goose’s camp.
Locals tell Drifting Goose stories with a chuckle, but they also respect the leader who never signed a treaty and, in his mind, never ceded any land. Historians have named a bridge that spans the James River on Highway 20 after Drifting Goose.
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| Redfield’s Carnegie Library is the oldest of its kind in South Dakota that has been continually used as a library. |
Of course, the colorful leader’s tricks couldn’t stop the eventual settlement and organization of Spink County, created by the territorial legislature in 1873. The area was named for Solomon Lewis Spink, a New York native who worked in law and journalism before President Abraham Lincoln appointed him secretary of Dakota Territory in 1864. He also served in Congress and practiced law in Yankton until his death in 1881.
Several towns emerged along rail lines that passed through Spink County. The largest is Redfield (pop. 2,385), where the state legislature placed the Northern Hospital for the Insane in 1902. Called the South Dakota Developmental Center, the facility still cares for roughly 145 people with disabilities. Redfield is also home to the state’s oldest continually used Carnegie Library. Built in 1902, the red brick building with a sandstone foundation and domed cupola stands at 5 E. Fifth Ave.
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| Hubert Humphrey as a boy in Doland. |
Fisher Grove State Park, east of Redfield near Frankfort, straddles the James River. It’s where the old Watertown-Pierre stage line crossed for the first time using a traditional rock crossing used by Native Americans. Further east on Highway 212 you’ll find Doland, the hometown of Hubert Humphrey, vice president of the United States under Lyndon Johnson from 1965 to 1969.
Follow Highway 37 north of Doland to Turton, (pop. 49) home of the Frogs. The tiny town still holds a Frogtown Festival every June, even though the Jim River is 15 miles away and the closest stream is called Dry Run. The pillar of Turton is the St. Joseph Catholic Church, where St. John the Baptist’s birthday is celebrated in June. The tradition dates to 1899, making it one of the nation’s oldest birthday parties for a saint (besides St. Patrick and St. Nick).
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| Five generations of Glenn Overby’s family have grown wheat in Spink County. |
Spink County covers 1,500 square miles, and much of it is ideal wheat growing country. Farms are plentiful and elevators dot the horizon, especially along Highway 20 through Conde, Brentford, Mellette and Northville in the northern third of the county. The South Dakota Wheatgrowers’ Co-op at Mellette can store 5.5 million bushels, but chances are good you’ll see the overflow of this year’s harvest piled outdoors.
Several years ago we visited the Glenn Overby farm near Mellette. Glenn’s father, John, was a self-taught agronomist who developed his own varieties of wheat: Marvel Wheat and Spinkcota. You can see an exhibit about John Overby and his other inventions at the South Dakota Agricultural Heritage Museum in Brookings.
Wheat farming requires long hours, but we noticed this summer while attending the state amateur baseball tournament in Mitchell that the Northville team’s roster included A.J. Overby, the fifth generation of Overbys to work the Spink County land. That means there’s still time for baseball, and probably pheasants in October, too.
Editor’s Note: This is the 10th installment in an ongoing series featuring South Dakota’s 66 counties. Click here for previous articles.
A Modern-Day Homesteader
The story of how I came to be a farm wife in South Dakota isn’t your typical road to the farm.
I am originally from a small town in Indiana, where I grew up with my mom and sister. After my dad married my stepmom, I became the oldest of six. Speaking of my stepmom … she’s Jeanette Lee, the professional pool player also known as”The Black Widow.” As you might imagine, I grew up having experiences that not everyone can say they’ve had.
Even though I didn’t grow up on a farm, agriculture has always been a part of my life. When I was younger, I was involved in 4-H and FFA, which led me to pursue a degree in agricultural education. I did most of my schooling at Purdue University, but once I met my farmer I finished at South Dakota State University.
My husband and I met on FarmersOnly.com, a website for people who love the rural lifestyle and have a passion for agriculture. We met for the first time face to face on the exit ramp that is now down the road from our home. I lived in South Dakota for a year before I was sure I was ready to do this whole “farm wife” thing. But I love my farmer, and I would do just about anything to be by his side.
We have been married over five years and have one adorable little girl. Life is always changing in our home, and we were so excited to have our son in April through in vitro fertilization, which is another story. The road to start our family has definitely not been easy, but we feel so blessed that God chose us to become parents.
Before kids, my days used to be filled with helping out on the farm as much as possible — watching gates, running for parts, working cattle, raking or moving hay, cooking, driving grain cart or cleaning water fountains. With kids, I still do a lot of those same things. I just carve out a lot more time for them, and I am thankful to have a wonderful mother-in-law right down the street and two great babysitters always on-call.
I have always said one of the best things about my relationship with Jason is our passion for agriculture. It is something we both love and appreciate every day. We are truly living our dream jobs.
On my blog, I talk about life on the farm from the perspective of someone who is living it for the first time. My husband can boast coming from a long line of farmers, but mine truly is the story of a First Generation Farm Wife.
Morgan Kontz lives on a farm near Colman with her husband, Jason, and two children. She blogs about her experiences as a first generation South Dakota farm wife and writes a monthly agriculture column for the South Dakota Magazine website.
The Rusty Shovel
Trygve Trooien: Country Philosopher
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| Trygve Trooien on the family farm south of Astoria. |
Editor’s Note: Trygve Trooien passed away on Easter Sunday in 2015 on his farm in Brookings County at the age of 65. We met Trooien in the fall of 2002. We visited his peaceful farm on the shores of Oak Lake and he showed us his incredible collection of overalls. Here’s the story we wrote. It appeared in our November/December 2002 issue.
Trygve Trooien is a country philosopher. There is no better way to describe the 52-year-old bachelor who farms along the east shore of Oak Lake in Brookings County. He is a country philosopher in striped bib overalls who occasionally stages farm fashion shows.
Trooien is good-natured and has a ready smile. He is not talkative, although he’ll share his thoughts when prompted. His daily life is a philosophy and that makes him a truer philosopher than those who speak or write a certain way and act another.
Trooien is Thoreau with a Farmall tractor. He is what Thomas Jefferson wanted every man to become, at home and happy on the land.
The name Trooien is as Norwegian as Lutheranism or lutefisk, and Trygve is proud of the heritage. Most people around Hendricks, Minn., which is just a few miles from Oak Lake and the Trooien farm, claim the same ethnicity. Prior to visiting the town, we’d heard that it had only two churches and both were Lutheran. We asked if that was accurate.
“No,” replied Trooien. “Hendricks has four churches. Lutheran, Lutheran, Lutheran … and Methodist.” He attends the old Singsaas Lutheran Church near his farm on the South Dakota side of the border.
In this lake country, Minnesotans and South Dakotans socialize and intermarry and sometimes even move their residency from one side of the state line to the other. The Trooien family is well respected here. Trygve is known as a good farmer; he garners further attention from his overalls.
For several generations, bib overalls were the uniform of choice for hard-working farmers and city laborers alike all across America. “They were better suited for doing active, hard work than about anything else you could wear,” Trooien said. “I think they are cooler in the summer because they fit looser and you can always unbutton one of the buttons if you want more air circulating.”
He grew up wearing overalls and never switched to jeans. “I haven’t changed. I’m not going to change,” he said.
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| Trooien’s overall models included (from left) Nicole Fitzsimmons, Elizabeth Johnson, Kelly Moe, Katie Telgren, Katie Hunhoff and Sara Johnson. |
Just as a man couldn’t be expected to farm without a tractor these days, Trooien said he wouldn’t farm without his overalls. “If we ever get to where we can’t buy them we’ll have to start our own factory. Yankton had its own overall factory once. So did Sioux City, Iowa.”
He hasn’t had to go to that extreme, but the scarcity of overall manufacturers does concern the friendly farmer. He orders Key overalls from Hendricks Hardware now that Lee only makes what might be called designer overalls. “Lewis Drug in Sioux Falls was the last place you could get the Lee work overalls,” he said. “I went to all three Lewis Stores and bought every pair that would fit me. I took good care of those last ones. I starched them and ironed them and tried to keep them going.”
He also favors Osh Kosh’s striped denim work jackets. He knew a mail order company that stocked them, but when the firm dropped them he thought he would have to switch. “A few years later we were sitting over coffee and a guy told me he saw some of those jackets at Country General in Brookings so I thought of an excuse to go to Brookings and by golly they had about 10 of those striped jackets my size on a sales rack for $7 each. I took them all. I was really happy about that deal.
“Then I thought I had heard that Country General in Watertown had the same deliveries as the Brookings store so I thought up an excuse to go to Watertown. Well, they had a rack of them and they were $9 each. I bought every one of them, too, so I’ve got a full closet of Osh Kosh jackets.”
Osh Kosh and Lee were two of many major manufacturers during the heyday of denim work clothes. Other well-known brands included Carhart, Carter’s, Key, Liberty, Paul Bunyan, Sears, Tuf Nut and Big Yank.
Three separate companies made overalls called Big Ben. There was Big Ben blue by Blue Bell, Big Ben striped by Wrangler, and Big Ben blue by the V.F. Company. Blues are solid denim. Striped are pinstripe blue on white.
Lee, which has always been Trooien’s favorite, sold four styles — stripe high back, stripe low back, blue high back and blue low back. “I grew up wearing blue and striped Key Imperials,” he said. “Lee’s were the Cadillac.” Every overall had a slightly different shape. Lee’s were generally considered a trimmer style, and they fit Trooien’s 170-pound frame.
Overall designers did try to change with the times, Trooien said. One manufacturer even renamed the plier’s pocket as a cell phone holder. But sales continued to lag until a few of the big-name companies like Lee decided to redesign the overall and market it to youth as a trendy casual wear.
Once he realized that work overalls were fading from the store shelves of rural America, Trooien stocked up on Lee’s. He also began to collect other styles. His wardrobe now includes 38 different styles representing 26 brand names. He never intended it to grow into a collection. “Whenever I saw an overall I didn’t have I bought it just to try it out,” he said.
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| Elizabeth Johnson models a pair of Keys with a handy pliers holder. |
“Osh Kosh B’Gosh from Osh Kosh, Wisconsin may be the best known of all the overalls,” he said. “Big Smith was known as the big man’s overall. They were wide, very wide. If society keeps getting heavier, which is certainly the way we’re going, they could make a comeback.”
As happens with all collectors, Trooien has become an authority on the subject. He says the guarantees were always interesting. Big Yank promised, for example, that shrinkage would not exceed one percent. The H.D. Lee Company — a giant in the business with 11 factories across the nation — guaranteed that their overalls “must look better, fit better and wear longer or you may have a new pair free or your money back.”
Brand names aside, Trooien says there are four basic types of overalls. “You’ve got your church overalls, you’ve got your dress overalls, you’ve got your town overalls, and you’ve got your work overalls,” he explained. A dress overall is for socializing in town, but it would be better than what you might wear to town in the afternoon to get parts or groceries. A town overall doesn’t have to be as good as a church overall, but better than a work overall.
Generally, he explained, when overalls were in fashion a man would use his newest pair of overalls for church. When they were slightly worn and faded they could be used for “night business,” meaning they were worn to town or to visit the neighbors. When the overall was no longer fit for public use it was worn during the work day.
When the town of Astoria celebrated its centennial in 2000, Trooien produced an Overall Revue, a cross between a fashion show and a historical pageant. He recruited young ladies in the area to model the collection. His brother, Phil, was moderator. A few repeat performances have followed. Trooien said he’ll do more in the name of historic preservation of the overall culture if requests don’t interfere with farming.
Nothing stops Trooien from tending to his cows and fields. A few years ago, he had some chest pains and the local doctor put him in the hospital. He was a model patient until 6 a.m. the next morning, when he pulled on his Key overalls and went home to milk his 30 Holstein cows. He has never been back to the hospital.
He likes his country life and sees no reason for time away. “I don’t enjoy going on vacation. I’ve been around the world in the Army and I don’t care if I never go again. I wasn’t that impressed.”
The farm by the lake has been in the Trooien family since 1900. “My grandfather bought it after the previous owner was forced to sell it when he mortgaged it for a threshing machine.”
His grandfather’s big, square white house is still the main residence. Red barns stand to the west, between the road and the lake. More than a dozen tractors, mostly red Farmalls, are parked around the farmstead along with both modern and antique farm equipment.
Oak Lake in eastern Brookings County is a picturesque and peaceful place to live and farm, and an appropriate setting for preserving the overall, part of the fabric of rural America.
Will We Change?
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Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the July/August 2009 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.
At first glance it may appear that South Dakota stock growers are divided into factions — producers of conventional, natural, organic and even organic kosher beef. But in talking to cattle producers around the state, you find they’re unfailingly respectful of one another.
Their uniform message seems to be: select any form of meat you like as long as it’s beef (preferably American grown, they add).
These producers are respectful, too, of people asking questions. Like, why is organic beef taking so long to establish itself, especially since we’ve began hearing about it in the 1980s?
“Compared to organic dairy and poultry, you don’t have a quick turnover,” says Charlie Johnson of rural Madison, an organic farmer in business with his brother, Allan.”Beef is a once-a-year product.”
What’s more, says Dakota Beef plant manager Larry Holtrop in Howard, it takes a while to get set up for raising organic livestock. Land has to be free of chemical fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides for three years.”Then you certify that every step of the animal’s progress has been free of chemical compounds,” Holtrop explains.”And you don’t just send the USDA an application and fifty bucks. They come out and check.”
There’s more. While South Dakota is known everywhere as great cattle country, and our stock growers are highly regarded for verification honesty, the state isn’t the best market for natural or organic meat. Organic products cost more.”The market levels are higher on both coasts,” says John Bruner, owner of Dakota Natural Beef north of Winfred.”These are products sought after by higher income groups.” And South Dakota wasn’t exactly first in line when it came to environmental, health-conscious thinking (stock growers often offer themselves as examples).
There are people everywhere (the coasts included) who categorize their steaks only as T-bones, ribeyes and sirloins, or currently trendy Angus versus everything else. So it’s good to look at definitions, still being written in some areas, as the USDA works to clarify the language and labeling.
To begin with, there’s”conventional” beef, which the world’s producers earnestly worked to improve during the 20th century. They put fertilizers and herbicides to use for lush grass and plentiful grains, and they employed antibiotics and hormones for animal health and growth. Then along came”natural” beef, which increasingly means verified to be antibiotic and hormone free over the animal’s lifetime — although in the past the term has meant anything from minimally processed to chemical free during the animal’s final weeks. The USDA is currently crafting tight defining language for”natural.” And there’s”organic” beef, taking the chemical-free concept several steps further, with verification strictly enforced by the USDA. Organic beef comes from livestock antibiotic and hormone free over its entire lifetime, born and raised on chemical-free lands, and fed only organic feeds.
“Organic regulations are so strict that inspectors will look into whether runoff from another pen could reach organic cattle,” Holtrop says.”Even what we use to clean our plant at Dakota Beef has to be organic.”
Not only cattle, but everything else that can be grown on a farm or ranch has been touched in some way by the organic movement. One of the first hints of that movement could be seen on the Bernie Johnson farm in the late 1960s. Charlie and Allan Johnson’s dad”was a hippie with a crew cut,” Charlie recalls.”His philosophy was he didn’t want anything on his farm that he couldn’t put on the tip of his tongue. Not many people were thinking like that then. But if 100 people came to a fork in the road, and 99 went one way, he’d go the other. It turned out he was prophetic.”
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| Charlie Johnson (above) and his brother, Allan, grew up on a chemical-free Lake County Farm, the sons of “a hippie with a crew cut” whose farming practices proved prophetic. |
And willing to take action. By the mid-1970s, about the time Charlie graduated from high school, the few acres Bernie kept chemical free in the 1960s had expanded to encompass the entire farm.”So it’s all I’ve ever known, really,” Charlie says.”We’re pretty good stewards of the land here. Being organic keeps the soil qualities high. We rotate alfalfa, soybeans, corn, soybeans again, and the oats sown with alfalfa.”
Still, with some organic grains selling for human food products at twice the price of conventional grains,”I can’t afford to run them through my cows,” he says. Charlie and Allan run 180 head of Angus and Gelbvieh cross cattle, which consume roughage and provide organic fertilizer. But calves are mostly sold as feeder cattle, not finished off as certified organic beef.
It’s not only the high value of organic grain as human food that comes into play. Limited availability of those grains at times has kept some stock growers from thinking about finishing off organic beef. A few years ago, finished agricultural products were what state government said it hoped South Dakotans would produce;”value added” was the term. In that climate John Bruner established Dakota Natural Beef and found he could finish antibiotic-free and hormone-free beef that was consistently good.”We can get into a market because our product is natural, but we can stay in it only if we provide a high quality eating experience week after week,” Bruner says.”I can do that with natural beef, but I might not be as consistent if I were organic, because quality isn’t only taste but also tenderness.”
He explained that plenty of diners like grass fed beef. But August grass isn’t June grass. That’s where the tenderness Bruner demands in his beef becomes tricky.”Tenderness in beef comes about because of a rapid production of protein in the animal,” Bruner explains.”That happens when cattle eat green grass in early summer. But protein gains slow down by late summer if you don’t add supplements, when the grass is dry and hard.”
As talk about the lucrative markets for organic beef grew 10 years ago, observers looked at the challenges South Dakota stock growers faced and said it would take deep pockets to launch large-scale production here. Someone would have to devise a formula to cover the costs of those grains, develop feedlots, understand the emerging national market — plus find a community open to a new packing plant. Integrating an organic component into an existing conventional beef processing plant is extremely difficult because of possible contamination issues.
Then in 2004, Howard welcomed Scott Lively to the state as he was searching for a home for an organic beef company. Dave Clarke had a building, just off Highway 34, that could be modified and expanded to serve as a state of the art processing plant. Things came together so quickly that in 2005 the Wall Street Journal featured Howard and Lively’s fledgling Dakota Beef Company plus the town’s commitment to wind energy on page one. Dakota Beef could be found nationwide, from high-end restaurants pleased to offer customers organic steaks, to major league ballparks serving fans organic all-beef hot dogs.
In 2006 father and son David and Daniel Feinberg stepped in as Dakota Beef lending investors. After Lively left the company in March, the Feinbergs became exclusive owners. With investment and real estate backgrounds, and offices on the 32nd floor of a New York City office tower, now they’re getting to know rural South Dakota (not that much of a stretch, they stress, because of other business dealings in Colorado and a 150,000 acre working ranch David owns in Oregon). The Feinbergs have come to appreciate South Dakota’s”welcoming attitude and honesty,” said Daniel.
“South Dakota has some of the highest quality cattle anywhere.” David Feinberg says.”But it’s seldom organic.”
So Dakota Beef trucks organic cattle to Howard from all over. It processes close to 100 per week at the busiest times, and maybe 40 to 80 when demand dips. The owners see opportunities for growth long term, and for South Dakota stock growers immediately.”If there are South Dakotans we don’t know who are finishing organic beef, we’d like to work with them,” Daniel said.
A few years back, the Feinbergs guessed organic beef’s future would be bright.”But our interest initially was a health one,” David says.
By no means do all organic beef producers and processors say that. A good number admit to feeling more comfortable discussing their product in terms of supply and demand — if customers feel better about eating organic, those entrepreneurs are happy to supply it, no questions about buyer motivations asked.
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| South Dakota has a reputation for great beef thanks to cattlemen like John Bruner, but the best markets for organic products are far from his Winfred ranch. |
The Feinbergs, though, have studied the work of Dr. Andrew Weil, suggesting that hormones passed from cows into dairy products can carry cancer risks, especially for women. If that’s the case, they feel, the same dangerous hormones might be found in conventional beef.”There’s also some thinking that antibiotics found in foods can limit the performance of antibiotics when they’re used for humans,” said Daniel. It surprises him that some consumers worry they might expose themselves to pesticides if they don’t carefully wash their apples, but don’t consider how cattle can carry pesticides if pastures aren’t chemical-free.
Health consciousness will always be a driving force behind organic sales, but there’s another emerging trend that has the Feinbergs projecting growth for their Howard plant. That’s the kosher market. Currently 10 to 15 percent of their product is doubly certified, as organic and as kosher. Kosher means the animal is downed with a precise neck cut in accordance with Old Testament law. While the Jewish market is key to kosher sales, Daniel said, the reason those sales are growing is because other people are committing to kosher”for spiritual and animal welfare reasons.” A solid argument can be made that a proper neck cut with a very sharp knife results in less animal distress than conventional slaughter. Glatt kosher means the animal was found to be in outstanding health prior to the kill, which is important to buyers seeking additional safety assurances.
The city of Howard is optimistic enough about Dakota Beef’s growth that it is studying municipal infrastructure improvements that may be required if a larger plant is necessary.
“Because of the process and costs, it’s expensive to run an operation like this on a small scale,” Holtrop says. With four decades of meat packing plant management on his resume, Holtrop was drawn to Dakota Beef in March”because this is a world-class challenge. There’s a big market out there for this product if we do things right.”
If the process and costs make organic beef a challenge for a packing plant, the same is true for stock growers. Dakota Beef’s Dr. Evan Whitley, who heads the company’s livestock division, can help producers get started.
So can Jim Krantz. An extension educator through South Dakota State University, Krantz has an office in the Miner County courthouse, just blocks from Dakota Beef. He first makes certain stock growers understand USDA requirements,”and we sort through any confusion about what natural is, and what organic is.”
A health program for both cow and calf is extremely important, Krantz stresses,”and producers considering this should know that even organic cattle can have vaccines. The other thing we always work on is nutrition, a way of regulating intake and the consistency of the intake. We develop a ration program.” Part of the program, Krantz adds, could include feeds that some stock growers haven’t previously considered, such as flax and barley.
So there’s no doubt some South Dakota cattle will experience altered diets in coming years. There’s no doubt that Americans coast to coast will enjoy new types of South Dakota beef, although in what quantity remains to be seen. Maybe these are the most important questions. Will South Dakotans feel inclined to spend a bit more to alter their diets? And will the rest of America follow our example?
Amaranth: The Once and Future Crop?
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Could a plant grown as a food crop 1,000 years ago in what is now South Dakota be one of the state’s answers to coming dry seasons? That is the question I arrived at after a yearlong probe into the peculiar properties, mysterious origins and current development of the plant called amaranth.
If you’ve heard the word before but have only a sketchy idea of what it is, you may be surprised to know that it is a product on the market right now, appearing on health food shelves and in mainstream items like bread and cereal. And, it is increasingly popular with gardeners who find it fascinating for its ease of cultivation, colorful appearance and diverse uses in the kitchen.
I embarked on my personal voyage of discovery while writing a book about the Prehistoric Indian Village on the shore of Lake Mitchell, which was inhabited before there was a lake. The book, Village on the Bluff: Prehistoric Farmers/Hunters of the James River Valley, was commissioned by Dr. L. Adrien Hannus, director of the Archeology Laboratory at Augustana College in Sioux Falls. Dr. Hannus told me he wanted an informative layman’s view of the site. Since I was highly qualified as a layman, and not lacking in curiosity or guts, I gladly took the job. Who knew where it would lead?
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| The main crops of the Hidatsa and other Native Americans were the “three sisters” of maize, beans and squash. Other crops, including amaranth, were grown as well. Some scholars think amaranth may have antedated all other grains and gave way to them only as the new grains were bred to greater size and bulk. |
The people who inhabited the Mitchell site 1,000 years ago were influenced by the Mississippian culture, which had its center at Cahokia, near what is now St. Louis. The culture included elements carried from further south in the Valley of Mexico. The villagers relied heavily on hunting bison and their vegetable diet, which consisted mostly of crops grown in the valley near the creek, wild berries, roots and other native foodstuffs. Microscopic examination of pollen discovered at the site showed that principal crops were the famous”Three Sisters” originating in Mexico and Central America — maize, beans and squash. But also present were pollen from sunflowers and amaranth.
I was so intrigued by the knowledge that amaranth was cultivated by these ancient peoples that I endeavored to learn more about it. I found enough to write on the subject, but then I decided to grow some. I can report that growing amaranth is not daunting. I was easily able to obtain appropriate seed varieties, two reds and one golden, and in early spring of 2012 I started the plants in peat pots indoors by a sunny window. The plants tend to be frail in the early stages, and I wanted to take no chances with the seeds not reaching maturity. By the time the weather grew warmer, I had enough sturdy plants to make three rows in a 4-foot by 8-foot bed and another row of about 10 feet, with plants left over to stick in odd spots in the garden.
The plants grew vigorously, despite the low-moisture spring and summer. The hot, dry weather was disastrous for my beans, cucumbers and most other vegetables, but the amaranth flourished. By fall, the plants stood 2 to 5 feet tall and the colorful, plume-like heads were heavy with seeds. Harvesting and threshing are often accomplished in one step, usually just after the first frost, by bending the heads into a pail and shaking or beating the plant so that the seeds fall. I wanted to conserve as many seeds as possible, so I snapped off the heads and put them in a plastic bag.
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| Amaranth grown for grain does not fare well in containers, so Robinson moved these seedlings to his Sioux Falls garden. |
Threshing was a bit trickier. The seeds are so light that winnowing in the wind, as I have done successfully with wheat, was out of the question; too many seeds would be lost. Various methods have been suggested, but none seem foolproof. I chose to use gloves to rub off the seeds (since the stems and chaff can be prickly and rough on bare fingers) and then collect the seeds and chaff in a bowl. A screen of the proper size can be used to sift out stems and much of the chaff, or by carefully shaking the bowl one can separate the seeds and chaff by weight and gently blow to skim off the chaff. Remaining chaff and stem parts can be removed by hand. If some chaff is left it is not a disaster — while annoying, it is edible.
Of the five plant species discovered at the Mitchell site, amaranth is unique in two respects. First, it is the only one of the group not thought to be exclusively native to the Americas. Second, it is the only one that failed to establish itself as a basic modern-day foodstuff until recently.
The fact that the name amaranthus (meaning”unfading flower”) has Greek roots speaks to the wide distribution of the genus around the world. Some 70 species exist in countries as far away as Australia, but few have been successfully cultivated. Nevertheless, grain amaranth was cultivated in Europe and Asia as well as the Americas in early times and was often associated with religious ceremonies, suggesting that it had a central place as a foodstuff among ancients. Some scholars suggest it may have been the very first grain, supplanted by other grains only as the latecomers attained greater size and volume.
Amaranth was highly prized in Peru and Mexico. It figured among the tribute crops demanded by Aztec ruler Montezuma. With the coming of European conquistadores, however, the growing and consumption of amaranth was nearly terminated. A ban on the plant was made on religious grounds. The Catholic Church found the use of small cakes made of amaranth seed and honey (sometimes allegedly mixed with human blood) in pagan rituals, to be eerily similar to using the host during Mass, and declared it blasphemy. Today, the use of the cakes, often in the shape of skulls but without blood, survives in Mexico, particularly during the weeks leading up to the Day of the Dead. Similar cakes of popped amaranth bound with honey or syrup were eaten in China, Nepal and Argentina.
Among tribes north of the border, amaranth was assigned other uses, as well. In the Southwest, Hopis used a red dye from one species as food coloring and for other coloring purposes.
Given the widespread use of the plant in ancient times, it is curious that amaranth holds such a small niche in today’s market. Other foods from Central and South America have had amazing success. Corn products are virtually ubiquitous, with such ingredients as corn syrup found in a wide selection of products. Beans and squash are also widely consumed. Even the sunflower seed has risen to widespread popularity as a snack. Mention the word amaranth to most people, however, and you will be repaid with blank stares.
How exactly amaranth was used by prehistoric people who populated land along the waterways of the Mississippi drainage is a matter of conjecture. The fact that the seed of the plant is rich in gluten-free protein (better than any other common cereal, and a particularly good source of the amino acid lysine), along with calcium, vitamins and other essential building blocks, may be a clue to its use 1,000 years ago.
Contrary to expectations, according to Dr. Hannus, the people of the Village on the Bluff may not have had a regular supply of fresh meat. The protein in amaranth may have helped fill dietary gaps.
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| Robinson found ground amaranth too gritty for pancakes, so he replaced it with cooked amaranth. |
Today amaranth is easily available in supermarket health food sections, in stores devoted to health foods or from web sites. I was fascinated to discover that the seeds could be popped like popcorn, boiled whole for gruel or for soups, ground for inclusion in hot cereals, pancakes, muffins, or other baked goods, sprouted for salads, or made into breakfast flakes. I started including amaranth in my diet. I was particularly proud of my Sunday pancakes, with amaranth, flax, and oat bran added to ease the guilt of a tasty weekly treat.
The young and tender leaves of amaranth plants are edible and are often harvested early in the season and used in salads or cooked as greens. The greens are many times richer in antioxidants than most other salad greens.
What does amaranth taste like? The adjective”nutty” leaps to mind, but I’ve also seen it described as”peppery.” Popped, with a little salt and butter added, it tastes very much like miniature popcorn. Puffed, mixed with heated honey, it will remind you of Rice Krispy bars. In mixtures with other grains and baked or used as a thickener in soups, it imparts a delicate flavor all its own.
If there are commercial growers of amaranth in South Dakota, they are doing a good job of keeping it a secret. Organic farmers, plant specialists and packagers I contacted could not recall anyone in the state raising the crop. When asked why, they came up with reasons ranging from”once bit, twice shy,” through”alcohol addiction,” to”a black sheep in the family.”
Paul O. Johnson, South Dakota State University extension agronomy field specialist based in Watertown, cites the Jerusalem artichoke fiasco as a possible reason that growers in this state are wary of”novelty crops” like amaranth. Many farmers were stung in the early 1980s when a firm called American Energy Farming Systems (AEFS) touted Jerusalem artichokes as a drought-resistant, high-return crop with unbelievable potential for development. Of course, what seems unbelievable often should not be believed. Some growers paid exorbitant prices for seed plants (often over $1,000 per acre sown), and found themselves at harvest time with little or no market for their crop. AEFS soon went bankrupt. Farmers with a long memory can hardly be blamed for being suspicious of get-rich talk about a crop with a funny name.
Like other plants grown in the Prehistoric Village, amaranth now seems to be here to stay, and it offers opportunities for enterprising growers. Its novelty, the combination of its value as an ornamental and as a fun and nutritious food, and the ease of its cultivation and harvesting, make it a welcome addition to the growing beds of those who love gardening.
Five Sisters Stew
For the fun of it, I created this stew mostly using ingredients that might have been found at the Prehistoric Village, particularly those foodstuffs common to the Mississippian culture. You could add a cup of whole corn if you wanted to make that ingredient seem less of an afterthought. By the way, say what you will, both amaranth and refried beans make excellent thickeners. I think you will find this dish to be rich, creamy and satisfying.
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1/4 cup chopped sweet onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
2 tablespoons butter or vegetable oil
1/2 cup cooked amaranth
1 1/2 cups cooked butternut squash
1 cup refried beans (about 7 ounces or half a can)
1 can diced tomatoes
1/2 cup vegetable broth
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. salt (or to taste)
1 tbsp. Cholula hot sauce
A sprig of cilantro, tortilla chips, and sunflower seeds to garnish.
Heat butter or oil in a two-quart saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and celery and sautà until onion is clear and soft. Add amaranth, squash, and refried beans and stir thoroughly. Add tomatoes and cook. Flavor with cumin, salt, and hot sauce. Add broth to bring to desired consistency. Garnish with cilantro, chips, and sunflower seeds.
Makes about four servings.
Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the March/April 2013 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.


















