Farm Notes: Malt Madness - Bring on the Barley

And just like that, winter is over.

A barley plant. Photo by Emily Taylor Photography.

Well, technically, it’s not over quite yet. We have a few more weeks until the March equinox, which marks the “official” end of winter. And anyone who’s lived in Colorado for any amount of time know that winter never actually ends in March. In fact, often Father Winter is just biding his time until March, waiting for the birds to sing, the sun to warm a little bit, and folks to get excited about getting outside and then BLAMMO, a foot of snow dropped right before a Monday morning commute and on the first day of your kids’ spring break. He’s mean like that, Father Winter. But we don’t mind him all that much. We rely on those winter/spring snows for moisture for both our fall-planted crops, and our early-spring planted crops - like barley.

No barley, no beer, so every March first we dust off the tractors, roll out the seed drill, and get planting.

And we are planting a lot of barley this year.

2021 was marked by a drastic decline in barley production resulting in shortage conditions and a rising concern on the part of malthouses and breweries who depend on the crop for their livelihood. Some of the decline was due to drought, some of it to farmers choosing not to plant barley (for a wide variety of reasons) but overall the harvest was down 270,000 acres nationally, or 40%. 

Forty percent! That’s a lot! Imagine if your salary dropped by 40%. Or worse, yet, imagine if you were told that your beer consumption had to drop by 40% because there was so little malt. 

That would make weekends very boring, indeed.

Barley fields.

As a malthouse, we are lucky that we are also a farm. It insulates us to some degree from these types of market fluctuations. We grow all our own barley, so if we come up short one year, that’s largely on us (or on Mother Nature’s propensity for hail damage.) We had a great barely harvest last year, and this year we are stepping up our game. Big time. Like, doubling our game. Last year, we planted 500 acres of barely. This year, we’re upping that to 980. Figuring a 100-bushel harvest per acre, we’re hoping for 98,000 bushel of barley, which is roughly 2,130 tons of barley, which, doing the math, comes out to approximately a Whole Lot of Beer.

For us (and hopefully for you beer drinkers, too) this is a real-life example of the benefits of “keeping it local.” Using the local farmland to produce barley for the malthouse down the road that then sells to breweries in your neighborhood, creates a supply chain that is harder to upset than one dependent on shipping barley in from the midwest or even from big, overseas producers of malt. By being able to plan for and produce our own crop, we’ve also been able to shield our business from some of the skyrocketing prices. It’s true that some of our input costs have gone up, fuel, fertilizer, and seed most notably, but as the farmers, we have the ability to adjust both our practices and our annual plan to try and mitigate those costs increases: something we couldn’t do if we were just purchasing barley. The slow shift to regenerative agriculture that we have been doing plays into this plan as well: healthier soil produces healthier crops with less inputs.

See how it all ties together? How everything’s related?

Thompson the Farm Dog on quality control.

All the heady, big-picture thinking aside, we get excited for springtime just like everyone else, so this month we’ll be babbling on about barley on the farm. Do you know what the difference between 2-row and 6-row barley is? How about the quality specifications required of malting barley? Or why it can be so dang hard to meet those quality specifications some years? Or what a seed drill is and why we choose to plant with it?

Follow the hashtag #maltmadness on our social media accounts (FB, Insta, and Twitter!) to follow along. 

And this month, as you’re cruising along the highway, wave to Todd on his tractor! He’s busy planting your future beer. Actually, wave even if it’s not Todd. Farmers like waves (polite waves, not the one-finger salute, heaven forbid) and then go buy yourself a beer. Make sure it’s local. It’s an easy way to give back to the farmers who give so much.

Wishing you a Very Merry Month of Malt Madness!

—Olander Farms

Distillery of the Month: The Family Jones

When we started this whole Root Shoot Malting project, we knew that one of our most important priorities as a business would be developing strong relationships with our customers.

What we didn’t know was that some of those customers would become family.

Chosen family.

The Family Jones.

Yes, it’s a play on words, but no, we’re not really exaggerating.

The Family Jones is a Colorado-based distilling company that puts farmers first. At least, that’s how it seems on our end. With a spirit house in Denver and another production facility in Loveland, The Family Jones had the fortuitous(?) luck to have their Loveland location just a few miles from the malthouse during those early years when we were out pounding the pavement, trying to rustle up our first few customers.

Todd swung by with samples of grains. He swung by again to check in. Then again, with more grain. Essentially, The Family Jones couldn’t get rid of Todd, so they finally decided it would probably just be easier to start buying from us. Thus began a long…and spirited…relationship.

Perhaps The Family Jones wouldn’t tell the story in quite the same manner, (they’re always so nice!) but regardless - if you are looking to support a local business that supports local farmers, this distillery has agriculture and family farms at its core.

Led by head distiller and co-owner Rob Masters, The Family Jones produces a wide variety of spirits, including vodka, rum, whiskey, bourbon, and more. They also produce a line of Automatic Jones: ready to pour cocktails for those of us a little too lazy (or not very good) at mixing our own drinks.

In everything they create, they consider the origin. In Distiller Rob’s words, “Everything starts on the farm. Finding the farmer that makes the right decisions for the benefit of the farm and the whiskey is the important element of this step.” The Family Jones was the first organization we worked with that brought their entire team - everyone from bartenders to investors to distributors - to the farm to show them where their grain comes from. They wanted the entire team to meet their farmers and shake their hands.

The grain in the Family Jones spirits is not just from local farms, it’s a tangible manner of supporting crop diversity and food sovereignty. A quick, simplified history lesson: over the last few generations of farming, as technology and massive corporations have infiltrated the world of seed production, seeds have become patented property, a privately owned commodity. Farmers who use seeds belonging to private companies - which is the vast majority of the seeds available - are not allowed to save back their own seed year to year. They must purchase it new, every year, even if they’re capable of growing their own. Additionally, the reliance on large companies for seed sources has vastly reduced the variety of seeds available. The diversity of food crops in the U.S. and the world over, is entering a bottleneck. The variety is declining, which puts the world at greater risk of a food crisis. Think of the Irish potato famine: when your food source is too reliant on too few things, the risk of one mishap causing a catastrophe increases.

As our small part in trying to support crop diversity, we have begun experimenting with heritage seeds: seeds that are not patented, that anyone can grow, save back each season, and replant. A number of years ago, we began growing an heirloom wheat variety called Oland, and this past year, we planted our first experimental crop of an old, Native American corn variety called Abenaki.

However, planting heirloom seeds isn’t enough: we need to have buyers for them. It’s scary for brewers and especially distillers to try out new grain. They don’t know its flavor profile, or how it will perform. Using it takes time and experimentation and patience. An experimental barrel of spirits needs to sit for years before the distiller will even know if the choices (s)he made were good ones. New grain carries a very real element of risk.

Despite all of this, The Family Jones has been all-in on all our heritage grains. They’ve been making whiskey with our Oland wheat for years, and just last month, we got to “help” (let’s be honest, we weren’t much help) fill the first barrel of an experimental Abenaki/Oland bourbon. The importance of businesses willing to use these old grains cannot be overstated.

Still, working with The Family Jones is not all just serious business. It’s often simply…fun. When we asked them if they would like to be the first distillery to participate in our annual Field Day, they took the invitation to the next level. They mixed specialty cocktails for the event. Paul Tamburello, The Family Jones CEO and co-owner and, coincidentally the man behind Little Man Ice Cream, drove up a party bus in which he and Derek Guilin, Marketing Coordinator, stuffed - we kid you not - the entire Little Man bouncy castle so they could bring it to the event. It took them hours to load the castle through the tiny bus exit door and required bribing random passers-by on the Denver streets to help. We have no idea how they did it. At the farm after the event, it took seven people to accomplish the same task.

It is this sort of dedication, camaraderie, and, well, shenanigans, that makes The Family Jones feel, actually, like family.

Or perhaps it simply feels like community. Because in the end, that’s what community is, isn’t it? Multiple people, multiple organizations working together for mutual benefit. And maybe - just maybe - a little bit of spirit. Or spirits. This crew has both, in spades. We wish them nothing but success.

You can check out more about The Family Jones distilling process (and even get a glimpse of our farm) on this video made by Distiller Rob about the process. Or better yet, visit their Spirit House in the Denver Highlands district. Be sure to check out their mind-bogglingly beautiful still, a stunning centerpiece for their location.

Support local. Support farmers. Support good people and good community.

Cheers, Family Jones. This whiskey’s for…or rather, from…you!

Cow Patties

It’s February on the farm, but don’t think for a minute that that means we’re over here sippin’ on stouts with our boots kicked up reading candy heart messages to the cows.

Well, maybe the stout part is true. Who doesn’t celebrate stout month?

And we do like saying nice things to the girls grazing the fields, but we don’t dare pass them candy hearts. Billy the Bull has a nasty jealous streak in him, and he’s an awfully big dude. You ever been chased by a bull? No?

We do not recommend it. If you think cardio workouts at the gym are bad, you should try cardio workouts in a pasture dodging bovine land mines while being pursued by a beast that weighs as much as a brick outhouse.

Not a good time.

Billy aside, (he’s really quite docile as long as you don’t flirt with his ladies) cattle play an integral part of our work here on the farm. They produce beef, certainly. We’ll harvest around 20 cows this calendar year, which we’ll sell in bulk (quarters or halves) to folks interested in purchasing local, humanely raised meat. More than simply viewing cattle as a commodity, however, we see them as a key player in our small farm ecosystem, an important piece of the agricultural puzzle, as well as living breathing beings that also deserve a good life.

So this year, we gave them something better than any candy heart message we could have come up with. (Plus, our messaging attempts were failing miserably. Will you be my heifer? I cow-not live without you!)

We put them in expansive, thick fields of forage.

In return, they trampled on the ground and left us some….natural compost. Digested grass.

Cow patties.

Agriculture is always evolving. From the first humans who decided to save some wild seed and try replanting it themselves, to tractors today that have Bluetooth, GPS systems, and lasers, agricultural workers are always refining their craft, always learning, trying to find a better way to do work that has been done for millennia. As of late, for us, tour focus has been on regenerative agriculture and - as part of that - incorporating cattle as an important part of a healthy system. So if January brought you some posts about water, this February we’re going to focus on our cattle: and what raising cattle for regenerative agriculture looks like, as opposed to the much-demonized feedlot system.

Here’s a quick (though admittedly simplified) overview:

Before the western expansion, the plains used to be populated by massive herds of bison. These bison would graze on the grasslands, slowly moving through. Their hoofs (millions of them!) would puncture and aerate the soil. Their bison patties (millions of them!) would leave behind fertilizer, and then, once the bison had eaten all they could in an area, they would mosey off to new lands. The grasslands they had passed through would regenerate, stronger and healthier for having had these huge beasts come through.

Regenerative ag is trying to recapture these principles of a beneficial symbiosis. One of the first steps we took in the regenerative process was to never leave our fields bare. When a crop is harvested, the stubble is left behind. Future crops are planted via seed drills, directly into the detritus. This provides constant protection of the soil from the elements. The second step we have taken is beginning to plant cover crops after a harvest crop. A cover crop is a crop planted purely for regenerative purposes, not for human consumption. The cover crop is either left in the soil to die back in the winter and serve as organic matter, or we bring Billy and his ladies in and let them do their thing: trample the earth, aerate a bit, fertilize and, most importantly, chow down. It’s the bovine equivalent of being dropped into a smorgasbord of ice cream and dark chocolate where the ice cream and dark chocolate are also good for you.

Because we’re planting for the cattle, and because we’re constantly monitoring their progress through the fields, we can also prevent over-grazing, another common complaint about cattle-rearing on delicate grasslands.

Whew. That’s a lot to digest. (Ha! See what we did there?) And it’s admittedly only scratching the surface of a very complicated subject that we’re still learning about ourselves.

But join us in the learning adventure this month by following #cowpattiesandcattle (bet you never had that in your hashtag list!) and see what we’re up to.

And if you’re interested in some local, humanely raised beef, we’ll have a limited quantity available throughout the course of this year. Please email team@rootshootmalting.com to request more info!

Wishing you a Fabulous February, a Spectacular Stout Month, and a Happy Valentine’s Day…or is it Valen-BOVINE’s day?

Cheers!

—Olander Farms

Root Shoot Malts My Heart: A Beer Package for Lovers

It’s Heart Time in the Land of Love!

Every Valentine’s day, Loveland decorates its streets with Valentine’s Day conversation hearts as a fundraiser for the Thompson Valley Rotary Club.

This year, like every year, Root Shoot has purchased a heart and we’re running a competition around finding it. BUT we’re switching things up a little! Previously, we used to make you find the heart, snap a photo, and tag us. This year we’re telling you where it is: Northbound on Lincoln between 5th and 6th streets.

Find Root Shoot’s heart, snap a photo of it, tag us, and post it on socials with the hashtag #rootshootmaltsmyheart. Photos that include you (yes, your pretty little face!) with the heart are worth a double entry.

In addition to changing the rules a little, we’ve also upped the prize ante.

We’ll collect all entries and hold a drawing on February 28th. The winner receives a beer-centric gift package for lovers including two Root Shoot beanies, a gift certificate and four-pack from Loveland Aleworks, and a four-pack of Verboten Brewing’s brand new Monster Cookie Stout that’s being released on the 11th!

It’s a package too good to miss, and since you already know where the heart is, all it takes is a little field trip to the Land of Love!

So go get it! We’ll look for your photo on the socials!

—Your Root Shoot Team

Dry January

Our plan for January? focusing on water for a while.

We even started a light-hearted introduction to it as our social media focus for January. Wouldn’t Dry January be an ironic theme for a business that depends on the beer and spirit industry? We could make a clever link between the sober (beer-less) Dry January that many participate in and the sobering drought that we are facing this January as farmers. We would approach a serious theme with an optimistic take and show our community what we’re doing to tackle water issues with creativity, hard work, and an occasional Dry January pun.

Then, days before we launched our posts, wildfires tore through suburban Boulder County, destroying hundreds of homes, displacing countless people, and leveling entire neighborhoods, all in areas that should never have been prone to wildfires in the first place. The fires were started by downed power lines landing in tinderbox-dry grasses and then fanned by record-high winds.

Suddenly, a lighthearted intro to drought seemed inappropriate. 

We scrapped our planned intro and pulled this one together. We need to tell it how it is. We need to face the situation in the Front Range, in Colorado, in the entire expanse of the Western US, head-on.

We don’t have enough water.

This past fall of 2021 was the first official autumn with no snow for the Denver area. It was also the driest and warmest summer and fall combined on the record books. As farmers, we are very much feeling the impacts of the bone-dry weather in our fields.

Winter wheat, which we grow annually both for distiller’s grain and to malt, is planted in the fall and relies on winter snows as precipitation in order to germinate. This year, the ground is so dry, that the winter wheat fields are way behind schedule. They may not make it at all if we don’t get significant precipitation. Additionally, for any field growing any crop, a base level of moisture is required to keep the soil healthy and “living.” Without it, microbes die off, and soil fertility plummets, affecting both current and future plantings negatively. Soil is life, and life cannot happen without water.

While climate change is a term almost casually tossed around by politicians, activists, and the general public alike, for farmers it is a very real force to be contended with, and during this dry summer and fall, long before these fires, we have been acutely aware of the looming water crisis in the west. This year, the Colorado River reached its lowest level since the 1930s, leading the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation to declare a shortage, resulting in water supply cuts to Arizona farmers. Those were labeled as “Tier 1” cuts. Tier 2 cuts are expected by 2023.

Colorado is, as one might guess by the name, inextricably tied to the Colorado River with the Front Range pulling between 30% and 50% of its water from the Western Slope in areas that would otherwise drain into the Colorado River. If you’re truly interested in learning about where our water comes from and the complicated system that provides it this article is a great start.

However, our intent this month is not so much to post and repost heady academic articles and policy declarations. Rather, we hope to show you what farming during a drought looks like with one’s boots on the ground, and how we’re trying to make our land (and your craft malt) more resilient in the face of a changing climate. So, be on the lookout for water-related posts on our social media sites this month, or just follow the hashtag #rootshootsdryjanuary to see what we’re up to.

In the meantime, hug your neighbor, donate to fire relief, toast to being part of the solution, and then follow through on your word. As a business and as community members, we’ll be looking for ways to do our part as well.

We’re glad you’re with us for this journey and all the challenges…and the successes that it brings.

Be well. Stay safe. Support local.

— Root Shoot Malting

Cursing at Buildings and Other Winter Adventures on the Farm

You see that tent?

Actually, it’s not really a tent. It’s a steel-framed storage structure with vinyl walls, but it looks like a tent, and as the saying goes, “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a…tent.”

Or something like that.

Regardless, that tent represents a significant chunk of our winter work on the farm, as well as the cause for much hair-pulling and (we admit it) a fair amount of adult language.

Running a farm requires an impressive amount of stuff. We have tractors and seed drills and combines. Irrigation pipes, air compressors, and skid steers. Piles of hay, piles of storage sacks, piles of tools. Fencing, fuel, and fertilizer.

Winter on the farm is when we deal with a lot of the “stuff” of farming. The tractors all get oil changes, the trailers all get their annual maintenance. Fences are mended, new ones are built and magical storage tents sprout out of the earth just like the vine in Jack and the Beanstalk.

If only it were that easy.

Building a steel-framed tent (specifically one you might, maybe, have purchased at an auction without assembly instructions) is sort of like trying to assemble Ikea furniture after one too many whiskeys, only you get all the frustration of trying to assemble Ikea furniture and none of the joy of having had whiskey. (We have a strict no-whisky-while-operating-heavy-equipment rule on the farm, because 1) it’s illegal and 2) It’s a good way to stay alive.)

Still, after a dozen attempts and another dozen adjustments, our new storage structure is up, and we’re excited to be moving some of our tractors into this space and out of the harsh Colorado weather.

Now, off to install some new electric fencing and to make sure the cows’ watering troughs haven’t frozen over.

And a quick pro tip: If, after this holiday season, you do find yourself trying to assemble an Ikea dresser gifted to you by your Great Aunt Thelma, we recommend doing it with a glass of The Family Jones Rock & Rye in hand. Those warming spices will smooth out the discomfort of realizing that even if you weren’t having whiskey, you still wouldn’t be able to figure out how it all works.

May your winter be cozy, your storage tents waterproof, your whiskey local.

Cheers!

—Olander Farms