For my first assignment at Climate Farm School, I was tasked with thinking about the future of our food system in 2040—what would it look like and how would we get there? For my final assignment, after spending an inspiring, life-changing week on the Ballymaloe organic farm in Ireland with a group of amazing, like-minded change makers, I’ve been asked to create an action plan to make that happen. Piece of cake, right? Ha! But actually, to me it’s more like a piece of bread…

Looking back on my initial thoughts, I wouldn’t change anything. All of the points I made are still very relevant and valid. I just need to figure out my place within the puzzle pieces. How can I be an agent of change? What is my purpose in life? What is my place in this ecosystem? Where can I plug in with my skills? Where can I add the most value? In what area(s) can I make the biggest impact? All super easy questions that we ask ourselves every day. 😉

To do this, I needed to work backwards. I needed to recalibrate my success metrics. I needed to stop worrying about HOW much of an impact I would make and just decide WHERE I wanted to make that impact. Ultimately, I can’t control or create all of the impact that I want to have. I just have to do the thing. And for me, that means baking and teaching people how to bake sourdough bread. So in essence, I just need to bake the bread. “If you build it, they will come,” is a ridiculously overused expression, but one that actually makes a lot of sense to use here. Let me explain. 

Tackling food systems change is a Herculean task. It is overwhelming and feels untouchable. But on the last day of our on-farm week, I was lifted up from the floor of despair by my classmates, who reminded me (not so subtly!) that the change starts with us. A diversity of approaches, professions, and solutions need to come together to make change. And that change isn’t going to start from above—i.e. legislature, the Farm Bill, Big Ag, etc. etc.—it has to start on the ground, with us. Only a few hours before this pivotal “lightbulb moment” happened in the classroom, I was sprayed with cow poo while in the diary milking cows. I couldn’t help but think that the universe was telling me something. The expression, “When the sh-t hits the fan…” came to mind. But I don’t think I was prepared for the emotion that would unravel inside of me, or for the epic camaraderie that would ensue around me. After the heartfelt encouragement from my peers (and a lot of tears), I was able to see more clearly. I realized that I needed to bring a little bit of the Ballymaloe magic home with me. I needed to build a Bread Shed, similar to theirs, in my backyard—a dedicated place where I can bake sourdough and teach my community how to bake it themselves.  I envision a space with lots of action and good energy that brings people together—literally and figuratively—to break bread. I think we can all agree that we could use more of that in our lives these days. 

I’ve also thought a lot about how our food system can integrate more indigenous wisdom. Sourdough is, in essence, a return to ancestral ways of cooking and feeding ourselves. As a bread naturally leavened through fermentation, it not only tastes better but is also better for our digestion than an overly-processed, store-bought alternative. It also presents an opportunity for sourcing locally-milled, nutrient-rich, organic grains (including more resilient grains like buckwheat, spelt, Khorasan wheat, etc.)—encompassing another arm of sustainable food systems. 

My plan combines Cooking + Education: I’m a chef and a teacher. The impact I can make is with the mouths that I feed and the hands that I teach, especially the little hands. 

I’ve been baking sourdough bread for 10 years—my journey started at Ballymaloe Cookery School in the spring of 2015 and continued in spades when I returned home to San Francisco and learned from the talented minds and hands at Tartine Bakery. In times of joy, sadness, celebration, or just because, I find that there are few things more powerful or memorable than giving someone a loaf of fresh, homemade sourdough bread. During Covid’s sourdough craze, I sent sourdough starter kits all over the country to friends, friends of friends, and Instagram followers so they could begin their sourdough journeys—feeding their families and hopefully finding some comfort during uniquely challenging times. The photos, messages, and videos I received of their progress warmed my heart, and reminded me that I was on the right path.  In my Bread Shed, I’d like to have a communal sourdough starter to which anyone is welcome at any time. Our ancestors often baked bread in a communal oven, why not do that AND share our starter. (The biggest barrier to entry for baking sourdough is maintaining a starter, so let’s change that.) 

Conversion — of both the land and our minds — needs to be local.

The principle of food sovereignty reinforces our right for empowerment over our food choices. My ultimate goal (and potentially my purpose in life) is to help people make better choices about the foods they eat and to connect them to where their food comes from. We can reduce food waste by cooking more creatively and effectively, and by making better choices when shopping for food. (Alarmingly, about 1/3 of the world’s food is wasted each year, 40% of which is wasted at the retail or consumer level.) Last fall, I planted the first literal seeds to grow my own food. This spring, the fruits of my labor popped their heads out of the ground, green and beautiful. If even a handful of the people in my community or my classes decide to also start growing their own food, we will be making impactful steps towards building a more sustainable food system on many levels AND reducing food waste (no plastic packaging; food stays fresh in the garden until you eat it instead of growing old in the back of your refrigerator). Covid was also a time when many people first realized how messed up our supply chains are, with empty grocery store shelves and food overflowing at farms without proper distribution channels. Let’s change that, too. 

The Standard American Diet (SAD) is just that—sad. And even more disheartening is the fact that the Farm Bill, which favors large-scale commodity farmers and promotes growth of a handful of commodity crops used in processed foods and animal feeds, both funds an important nutrition assistance program AND ensures that the bulk of the calories purchased with SNAP are cheap and unhealthy. We need to reduce dependence on these subsidies and empower communities to make better food choices through education and accessibility.

“It is our belief at Climate Farm School that nothing shifts hearts and minds better than direct experience.”

Since that day in the classroom, I’ve said to myself many times, “Plant a seed. Stay the course. We are the people who will make things change.” Please come over and bake bread with me. I can’t wait to get our hands messy together, and make some impactful changes for generations to come. 

Every good plan needs some action items! Here are mine:

· Meet with OOT Box (who luckily happen to be my neighbors) — to build my Bread Shed

· Talk to Daniel Callen at Ballymaloe — to gain insight on how they developed their Bread Shed

· Build a strategic partnership with Columbus Foodscapes —  to help people in our urban community grow their own food

· Create a list of sources for buying local, organic (and, whenever possible, regenerative) foods and produce — to have at the ready for my students, friends, and neighbors

· Reach out to the Highland Youth Garden, which “offers a diverse, hands-on learning environment for children, giving them the space and guidance to grow their own food and explore nature” — to see how I can get involved

· Contact the Rattan Lal Center for Carbon Management & Sequestration at Ohio State University (which is literally minutes from my house) — for local events and lectures 

· Become a member of The Food and Wellness Equity Collective — to join my voice with change makers and add to the impact

· Investigate zoning/permitting for the Bread Shed, hopefully with few challenges from the City of Columbus (just putting it out there, universe!)

· Record my journey here on this blog — to help inspire and mobilize others by reminding us we’re not alone.