Cows are big. Let's share.

Jessica Moore, who came to the Philadelphia area for a graduate degree in computer science and stayed to work and raise a family, was pregnant with her third child in 2010 and exploring business ideas that would allow her to work from home. She was hoping for something related to local food.

"I grew up in Evansville, which is surrounded by farmland, and my family always had a deep freezer stocked with beef from cows we would buy from people we knew," said Moore, a University of Pennsylvania alum.

Moore says she was fed-up with industrial farming and hungry for that experience of eating close to the land. So that family freezer came to mind - as did another successful Philadelphia business called PhillyCarShare. That, in part, is the thinking behind PhillyCowShare.com. Instead of sharing cars, customers share cows. It’s a way individuals can buy grass-fed, locally raised beef by splitting the purchase of a cow with their neighbors. The plan helps keep small cattle farmers and butchers in business and rebuilds the link between the city and the surrounding land.

Moore started the company with orders from just four friends and now counts CreekSide Coop among her many customers. CreekSide meat department manager, Mike Richards, says he was buying grassfed beef previously from different suppliers. Now, everything you see labeled as "grassfed" in the coop is from PhillyCowShare.

"Anything I have labeled as grass fed comes from philly cow share. I've gotten grass fed from somebody else in the past," Richards said. "I get half an animal at a time. So I get strip steaks, rib eyes, filets, sirloins, chuck or bottom round, rump roast, even ground meat."

The supply of each cut is limited, of course, because each cow has only so many rumps, for example. But customers can pre-order specific cuts. Prices range from $7 to $30 a pound. That is roughly a dollar or two more than other meat at the coop, which is also all natural, with no antibiotics or growth hormones, but not grass fed.

Moore buys from a handful of growers.  Among them is Phil McMahon who raises Aberdeen Black Angus, Scottish Highland and Belted Galloway cattle at Erdenheim Farm, a 450-acre property that has been continuously farmed since the days of William Penn.  One of Moore's first growers was Larry Herr, an 11th generation farmer who moved from Lancaster County, Pa. to Lewis County, N.Y. so he could have more land to raise Irish Black cattle.

The growers deliver the cattle live to Smucker's Meats, a family-run butcher in Mount Joy (in Lancaster County), where they are butchered and the meat is dry-aged. Smuckers uses the humane handling model established by animal activist/author Temple Grandin.

"So you can be sure the animals are processed with respect in a safe, clean environment, by people," Moore said, "not machines."

Herr said the cow share has been a big hit. "There have been shares of vegetable-growing operations for a while now," Herr said. "But the idea of a share is just now coming to beef. It felt like a fad when we first started, but I've not been able to keep up with demand," Herr said.

 "I would never have predicted this, but by working with Jessica, I could double my business, except that I don't have enough cows to do that."  It takes two to three years to increase the size of a herd, said Herr, who learned from his grandfather, Clarence Herr.

"In the 1940s, my grandfather milked by hand and sold at local farmers markets. As a child of the Depression, he never wanted to borrow any money. But in the 1950s and '60s, we were told you have to get big, expand, do volume. The '70s were the time of the big feedlots in the West, 40,000 or more head in one location. That was the beginning of the end for us in the East to be competitive. So we went to a controlled-environment livestock model, in which we had layers [chickens laying eggs] in cages. But it didn't feel right. We knew there was too much manure for the amount of land we had. And we were bringing in grain from out of state to do it."

Herr's children were small when the time came to rethink the future. "That's when we looked at Upstate New York," he says. Now he raises Irish Black cattle, a quasi-heritage breed, on 500 acres, and hosts a wind-turbine tower there that is part of the largest wind farm on the East Coast, providing green energy for more than 200,000 homes in New York State. Moore came to him in 2010 and now, at 61, Herr is beginning to think his grandfather's way of living may be possible again.

Like Moore's family back in Indiana, the Smuckers grew up buying beef directly from a local farmer. But it was an option only if you knew a farmer. There was no one in the middle, like Moore, to link farmers and butchers with city dwellers who are increasingly passionate about sourcing their food.

"We challenge customers to eat meat more mindfully," Moore said. "Eat healthy meat, eat less meat, and eat all the cuts - not just the high-end steaks."

Tips and recipes for cooking with grass-fed beef are at www.phillycowshare.com

- by dianna marder, member #70

Cooking Counts

In my years as a staffer in the food section of the Philadelphia Inquirer I learned one overwhelming, undeniable truth: cooking matters.

Growing food in a sustainable manner counts, buying locally counts, supporting farmers counts, as do eating a balanced diet and exercising regularly. But in terms of improving the earth and the individual, nothing matters more than cooking at home.

Cooking is at the core of our relationship with the natural world and as such, it defines our own nature. Cooking reflects our culture and informs our values.  Cooking at home costs far less than eating out or using take out and it makes us aware of every ingredient in each dish. And cooking at home nourishes us body and soul in ways fast-food cannot come close to copying.

I know CreekSide's Andy Schloss believes that. As a board member and acting general manager, Andy has contributed greatly to the Coop's success. But perhaps it is as a culinary professional and an advocate for home cooking that Andy serves us best. In his on-going, free cooking classes at the Coop, Andy draws on his decades of experience, writing award-winning cookbooks and as a past President of the International Association of Culinary Professionals.

At his recent class on Ten Ways to Cook Chicken Breast in (about) Ten Minutes, I watched as he split, seasoned and sautéed the versatile white meat, explaining all along the science behind each step. He made Chicken Breast with Vermouth and Tarragon, and Chicken Breast with Capers and Brown Butter. He baked, grilled, shredded and simmered chicken. We ate until our bellies were full and left clutching copies of his recipes.

Among the classes you might have missed in just one month were: Beautiful Vegetarian Soups, Passover Baking, and All Natural Easter Egg Dying. Andy promises to repeat his class on Cooking With and On Salt (as in, using salt blocks) and you don't want to miss that.

If you too believe that cooking connects us, let Andy Schloss show you how. Dates and times of upcoming classes are in the weekly newsletter and on the blackboard inside the Coop. And did I mention they are free?

- by dianna marder, member #70.

Buying in Bulk: an unlikely misnomer

           If you think "buying in bulk" is all about stocking up on toilet paper and industrial-size cans of mayo at BJ's or Costco, it's time to expand your thinking.

          The basic idea of bulk buying is to take advantage of a lower price per unit - per ounce, pound or quart, for example - to save money. You'll pay less per roll at those warehouse clubs when you buy what seems to be a lifetime supply of paper towels. And that may be a good idea for you, if you've got the cash up front and the storage space out back.

          But the bulk section at CreekSide Coop operates on a different premise. You've seen the bulk section, right? It's straight ahead as you enter the store at the produce section.

          At CreekSide, the point is to buy less,not more, in order to save money.  It's actually counter-intuitive, the opposite of buying at Costco. You can buy just enough of an item - flour, beans, cumin, whatever - to suit your immediate needs without having leftovers you may never use.

          You buy just enough, for example, to try a new recipe. Does the recipe call for just two peppercorns? Buy just two.

          Because these bulk items have no individual packaging, the unit price is lower. Plus you are helping to reduce waste and shrink the carbon footprint of your meals.  Bulk foods are typically 89 percent cheaper than packaged foods, according to a 2012 study by Portland State University.

         This kind of bulk buying is a no-brainer. In fact, it's simple. Take one of the small plastic or paper bags available free of charge on the table, next to the scale. Fill the container with any amount - as much or as little as you need. Label your bag with the four-digit PLU code on the container. Weigh the bag on the scale or let the cashier help with weighing when you check out.

          Tell me this isn't a good idea. Tell me you don't have a half bag of flour in your pantry from heaven knows when.

          (And while we're on the subject of warehouse clubs, it's worth noting that while BJ's and Costco sell "memberships," that does not mean you share in the store's profits. Only CreekSide's memberships carry that advantage.)

          Last month, when my book group was slated to meet at my place, I wanted to try a recipe from the Barefoot Contessa (aka Ina Garten) for Rosemary White Bean Soup. I'd previously only used canned beans but I'd heard that dried beans are far more flavorful. Thanks to CreekSide's bulk section, I was able to give it a try for only $1.89. The recipe is below. And all the ingredients are available at your store, CreekSide Coop.

BAREFOOT CONTESSA'S ROSEMARY WHITE BEAN SOUP

makes 4-6 servings

INGREDIENTS

1 pound dried large white Navy beans (also known as Cannellini beans)

4 cups onions, sliced

1/4 cup olive oil

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 large fresh rosemary sprig (6-7 inches long)

2 quarts chicken or vegetable stock

1 bay leaf

2 teaspoons Kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

DIRECTIONS

 1. In a medium bowl, cover the beans with water by at least one inch and leave them in the refrigerator overnight (at least 8 hours). Drain the beans when you are ready to start cooking.

2. In a large stockpot over low to medium heat, saute the onions with the olive oil until the onions are translucent, 10-15 minutes.

3. Add the garlic and cook over low heat 3 more minutes.

4. Add the drained white beans, rosemary, stock and bay leaf. Cover, bring to a boil, and then reduce to simmer. Cook on simmer until the beans are very soft, 40 minutes or more.

5. Remove the rosemary sprig and the bay leaf. Allow the soup to cool slightly (for your safety) and coarsely puree using a food processor fitted with a steel blade, or an immersion blender, or a food blender. You want a coarse, not a smooth, blend.

6. Return the soup to the pot to reheat. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Enjoy!

- by Dianna Marder, member #70.

TALKING TRASH

Next time you're headed into Center City, take Broad Street to Hunting Park and pick up the Schuylkill Expressway there,  instead of your usual route. From about Ruscomb Street to Wyoming Avenue along Broad, you'll see level of litter I think is unparalleled. Stained brown bags that once held cheesesteaks and still carry the stink of stale onions; crumbled remnants of paper napkins; and torn plastic bags are tossed like  tumbleweed and collect along the curbs.

I grew up there, in Logan, so I know this neighborhood wasn't trashed overnight.  It may not look it now, but in my lifetime those streets were clean and the homes well-kept. As a homeowner, I've often thought about how and why neighborhoods change and I've wondered if Elkins Park could ever become another Logan.

In "The Tipping Point," author Malcolm Gladwell (he of brilliant mind and huge hair) considered what contributes to neighborhood decline and, among other factors, he cited the Broken Windows Theory. Developed three decades ago as an approach to community policing, the theory essentially explains that ignoring little problems such as litter and broken glass, creates an atmosphere of neglect that almost invites crime and puts home values into a death spiral.

I bet you know such neighborhoods, places where corner grocery stores survive today only doing business behind the bullet-proof protection of Plexiglas.

For me, Plexiglas is the new "broken window." It is 21st century evidence that a community is less safe, more prone to break-ins and robberies. This was my fear as months turned into years and the site of the former Ashbourne Market took on the look of a place where good businesses went to die. Yes, in those years,  homeowners across the country saw their property values plunge. But having a big vacant storefront in the center of Elkins Park gave real estate here an additional black eye.

Recovery, like deterioration, happens in small but measurable steps.

In Elkins Park, we're blessed to have a village of volunteers in our midst - neighbors who literally changed the landscape in High School Park and who are working with the Cheltenham Community Development Corporation to make the Elkins Park SEPTA station a hub for artists and musicians. And, of course, the volunteers who created CreekSide Coop.

Now we are the beneficiaries of those efforts by the Coop founders and we are the co-owners of a fledgling business. Now it is our task to make CreekSide a financially-sound landmark of community stability. You and I will make that happen, by shopping at CreekSide, and spreading the word to Abington, Jenkintown, Wyncote and beyond, so the Coop becomes a destination. 

If, in your view, CreekSide's prices or selections were off the mark when the Coop doors first opened, please take another look.  Thanks to feedback from members, the Coop has already cut prices and expanded product options dramatically without compromising on quality.  Recent comparison shopping of 10 sample items found CreekSide prices lower than Whole Foods and Acme. We need you to spread that good news.

If we fail in our task - by blithely shopping elsewhere or by "talking trash" - we run the risk of real failure. Trash talk about why the store isn't exactly perfect (as opposed to suggestions for making it even better) is no better than trash on the sidewalk - it takes us all down. Do you really want the centerpiece of Elkins Park to be a 6,700 square-foot store that does business behind Plexiglas?  That is the choice we now make when we decide where to buy our groceries.

- Dianna Marder, member #70.

Why Whole Foods' exec used the F word, and, Who really owns Trader Joe's?

Did you happen to listen to NPR January 17, when Whole Foods co-founder and top executive John Mackey used the F word?

We're talking Fascism.

Mackey was on Morning Edition promoting his new book, Conscious Capitalism. But he probably lost sales - for the book and his supermarket chain - when he said the nation's new health care plan amounted to fascism.

Big Gulp. 

NPR was just one stop on Mackey's promotional book tour. By the time he got to CBS This MorningMackey was in full damage control mode, talking about a "bad choice of words" and all that. NPR later called Mackey's comments on CBS a "walk back." We'd call it something less kind. As Lance Armstrong is learning, folks can tell when you are truly sorry for your actions and when you're just sorry you got caught.

Mackey's case of foot-in-mouth reminds me why I'm happy to be a member of a food coop. Spend money at the Whole Foods in Jenkintown and the proceeds go to Austin, Texas. The dollars and cents I spend at CreekSide stay in this community.

And while CreekSide pays staffers a living wage, Mackey has successfully staved off efforts by his staffers to unionize.  No doubt, those "associates," as he calls them, won't take too kindly to Mackey's kvetching about the possibility of paying more for their fascist-imposed health care. On the radio, he sounded more concerned about the sustainability of his seafood than that of his associates.

But who am I to pick on Whole Foods in its times of trouble? I'm an equal opportunity critic, so let's go to Trader Joe's.

I was surprised to learn (from Creekside board president Max Minkoff ) that quirky, comfy Trader Joe's is owned by Aldi's. Yes, that Aldi's on Easton Road. The Aldi's with an armed guard at the door, where in exchange for deep discounts on no-name ketchup, shoppers are forced to fork over a quarter in advance for a shopping cart and bag their own groceries. Forget to bring your own bags at Aldi and you're left to sort through their soggy cartons to find one in which the hole in the bottom isn't too big. 

Make no mistake, Trader Joe's, which started in Pasadena in 1967 and was later purchased by Aldi , was never local. 

As Walter Loeb wrote in Forbes in 2012, Aldi was founded by brothers Karl and Theo Albrecht in 1913 in Essen, Germany. (ALbrecht DIscount = Aldi, get it?) The brothers retired in 1933 and created a family trust to operate their empire. In 1979, the trust bought Trader Joe's and by last year there were 9,949 stores around the world called Aldi or Trader Joe's. The Albrecht brother's mom really did start out in the business with a corner store, but  Karl and Theo became the two richest men in Germany. When Theo died in 2010, he was the 31st richest man in the world. (They were apparently reclusive oddballs, worthy of a Google search when you get a chance.)

The Trader Joe's store in Jenkintown, like all the others, trades on its relatively small size, its store-brand labels on national brands, and its folksy Hawaiian shirts to lend the impression of an olde time country store. But in 2010, Trader Joe's alone (i.e., not counting the Aldi stores) had annual sales that equaled those of Whole Foods and exceeded those of Bed Bath and Beyond, according to a Fortune magazine report.

You're free to shop where you please - at a store that offers deep discounts at the price of dignity; a store that short-changes its staff, a store that sends its proceeds out of town. Or at CreekSide, which is member owned and values driven.

        -- Dianna Marder (member #70)

A Philadelphia Inquirer staff writer for 27 years, Dianna Marder wrote about food for the paper for last decade of her time there. She writes this occasional column, Cents and Sensibility, as a volunteer.