Our Food Philosophy
NOURISH. ADVOCATE. EDUCATE. INSPIRE.
Here at Coghlan Cottage Farm, we are passionate about real food, grown close to home with love. We believe strongly that the future of food and farming lies in the hands of family farmers, not multi-national corporations. We believe that seeds belong in the commons, to be grown and shared for future generations, not merely the profits of the privileged few.
If you get to know us, follow us on social media, you will find that we talk about politics and advocacy, equality and justice, environment and ecology, human rights and socio-economic issues as much (maybe more) than we talk about food.
This isn't by accident.
For us, food is the place where all of these things meet, all the most pressing problems of our turbulent time, right there on our dinner plate. This can be overwhelming, but also empowering.
Food is an entryway; a means to wrap your arms around impossibly huge challenges, to find their edges, their tender spots, a way in and around and through. Food is also a shared space, at it's very best a means of coming together, of breaking bread, sharing laughter and the stories of our lives. It is also, at its best, a celebration, a nourishing of spirit and community, soul and body.
It is through that inherent joyfulness, steeled by a rebellious spirit, that we approach our farming adventure.
We are out to change the world - one seed, one meal and one belly at a time.
We have much to do; climate change, corporate monopolies, injustice and hunger are all working against us and our dream of a food system that is Good, Clean and Fair. We have two choices; get angry and give up, or get to work. We've chosen to roll up our sleeves, dig deep into the garden bed and find a better way.
At the heart of our decision to farm is the conviction that with a lot of hard work, a little imagination (and lots of cold beer) we can grow a better food system, one that is truly Good, Clean and Fair. One that is rooted in joy and community and the ecological truth that Everything Is Connected. The Powers That Be say it can't be done, but there are plenty of us out here, already working away on the impossible.
It WILL be done.
The Sufi poet, Rumi, wrote "Let the beauty of what you love be what you do."
And that, in a brief phrase, sums up what we are doing here. Even in the dark days of winter as I write this, the whole farm a half-frozen mess of a mud-puddle, the chickens sad and soggy, I love this place. I love the IDEA of this place. It is full of possibility and hope and promise of green things and tiny birds flitting in sunny thickets and the contented sound of chickens as they work. It is children's laughter in the fields, dogs playing, pigs lolling in the shade awaiting belly rubs.
It is also pragmatic experimentation, trial and error, a constant education metered out in painful lessons. It is hard work and a sore back and calloused hands.
All of it is good, even when it is heart-wrenchingly terrible.
If you get to know us, follow us on social media, you will find that we talk about politics and advocacy, equality and justice, environment and ecology, human rights and socio-economic issues as much (maybe more) than we talk about food.
This isn't by accident.
For us, food is the place where all of these things meet, all the most pressing problems of our turbulent time, right there on our dinner plate. This can be overwhelming, but also empowering.
Food is an entryway; a means to wrap your arms around impossibly huge challenges, to find their edges, their tender spots, a way in and around and through. Food is also a shared space, at it's very best a means of coming together, of breaking bread, sharing laughter and the stories of our lives. It is also, at its best, a celebration, a nourishing of spirit and community, soul and body.
It is through that inherent joyfulness, steeled by a rebellious spirit, that we approach our farming adventure.
We are out to change the world - one seed, one meal and one belly at a time.
We have much to do; climate change, corporate monopolies, injustice and hunger are all working against us and our dream of a food system that is Good, Clean and Fair. We have two choices; get angry and give up, or get to work. We've chosen to roll up our sleeves, dig deep into the garden bed and find a better way.
At the heart of our decision to farm is the conviction that with a lot of hard work, a little imagination (and lots of cold beer) we can grow a better food system, one that is truly Good, Clean and Fair. One that is rooted in joy and community and the ecological truth that Everything Is Connected. The Powers That Be say it can't be done, but there are plenty of us out here, already working away on the impossible.
It WILL be done.
The Sufi poet, Rumi, wrote "Let the beauty of what you love be what you do."
And that, in a brief phrase, sums up what we are doing here. Even in the dark days of winter as I write this, the whole farm a half-frozen mess of a mud-puddle, the chickens sad and soggy, I love this place. I love the IDEA of this place. It is full of possibility and hope and promise of green things and tiny birds flitting in sunny thickets and the contented sound of chickens as they work. It is children's laughter in the fields, dogs playing, pigs lolling in the shade awaiting belly rubs.
It is also pragmatic experimentation, trial and error, a constant education metered out in painful lessons. It is hard work and a sore back and calloused hands.
All of it is good, even when it is heart-wrenchingly terrible.
THERE IS ONE THING WE HAVE LEARNED FOR CERTAIN FROM OUR ADVENTURES IN URBAN FARMING, SMALL-SCALE FARMING + HOMESTEADING:
Al Gore says, "Despair is another form of denial." We won't despair. In dark days hope is an act of rebellion.
Simply by growing our own food, tending the garden, sharing recipes, baking bread, talking with neighbours, cooking from scratch, saving seeds, sitting down at the table and turning off the TV, just living a full, simple life that is inherently joyful – we are making change. We'll thumb our noses at the corporations who would convince us we are merely consumers and powerless in this game.
We are mothers and fathers and home cooks and backyard chicken keepers and seed-savers and organic gardeners and stewards of our places and we are more powerful than we will ever imagine.
In our warm homes, around our kitchen tables and in the cool shade of our bountiful gardens lie the answers we need to change the world.
Simply by growing our own food, tending the garden, sharing recipes, baking bread, talking with neighbours, cooking from scratch, saving seeds, sitting down at the table and turning off the TV, just living a full, simple life that is inherently joyful – we are making change. We'll thumb our noses at the corporations who would convince us we are merely consumers and powerless in this game.
We are mothers and fathers and home cooks and backyard chicken keepers and seed-savers and organic gardeners and stewards of our places and we are more powerful than we will ever imagine.
In our warm homes, around our kitchen tables and in the cool shade of our bountiful gardens lie the answers we need to change the world.