When I was a kid, I really believed that food came from little cartoon farms:

Ladies collecting blueberries in their aprons. Magpies stealing corn. Roosters chasing cats out of the coop to protect the hens’ eggs. Farmers milking a single cow, whistling, throwing her an apple as he carries away a bucket of milk. She eats the apple in one gulp, and she smiles.

Of course, these scenarios are absurd, but it seems like many people in this country have similar fantasies about the origins of their dinner. Surrounded by piles of shining produce in grocery stores, I have to remind myself of the damning situation around agriculture and meat production in this country. Supporting [buying] local produce, eggs, meats, and dairy products is one of my soap boxes. In San Diego and Atlanta, it was an easy endeavor, but when I moved to Virginia Beach last year, I had no idea where to find locally grown/raised food products. At the Sustainable Living Fair, I discovered one of the gems near Hampton Roads: I met the representatives of Weeping Radish Farm, Brewery, and Butchery. I tasted their beer and my partner, Kenny, sampled some Andouille sausage. Kenny rarely eats meat and thinks sausage is creepy. He was amazed by the Andouille. The Weeping Radish people told us a little bit about their German Master Butcher and their dedication to buying meat from local, sustainable family farms. They invited us to visit their farm near the Outer Banks.

About a week after Spring “officially” started, I drove Kenny and our daughter through the gravel parking lot beside the Weeping Radish sign. The headquarters of their seasonal cafe, microbrewery and butchery, a giant red barn, is remarkably authentic to the area off of Caratoke Hwy, near Jarvisburg NC. A small drove of goats wandered around a thatch of grass and greeted us at their fence as we walked into the barn where we met “the beer guy,” Matt, who took Kenny and me on a tour of the brewery. Later, the owner, Uli Bennewitz, showed us the farm-in-progress and explained his Farmer to Fork philosophies as we toured the Butchery.

The Brewery

Skylights spread light through the arced ceilings of the brewery on bottling day. Standing on a second-floor landing overlooking the brewing room, Matt opened a jar of German barley used to brew the Black Radish beer. The smell was like chocolate earth. Matt explained the process of beer-making at Weeping Radish, which employs the Bavarian standard of using only water, hops, malt, and barley. After spending 15 minutes with Matt, I feel way better about shopping for beer: barley is largely in charge of the color and the timing of the addition of hops influences the aroma and flavor of beer. The entire brewing process takes about five weeks, depending on the brew, and the leftover grains are either used for compost or fed to the resident goats.The Brewery has been open since 2006, and last year, they were the only brewery in America [to their knowledge and mine] which encouraged the reuse of their glass bottles.

The Butchery

Weeping Radish buys the animals they use for their meats from local area farms including: Cane Creek, which provides grass-fed beef and the Sandy River Farm which provides free-range, hormone-free pork. The meat is smoked in house, and the smoking process is recorded by a computer which can literally track which animals a sausage or piece of meat came from. Currently, most of the meat available at grocery stores can contain pieces of hundreds of cows and pigs. It is no small feat to be able to track the source animal.

Weeping Radish has also started working with the local dairy farm, South Mountain Creamery: when a dairy cow is no longer able to produce milk, instead of auctioning the animal off, South Mountain Creamery hands the animal to the butcher at Weeping Radish who creates hot dogs, sausage, and brats for the Creamery to sell themselves. Mr. Bennewitz spoke about this “meat reuse program”:

“The exciting thing about it is that we are turning a byproduct into prime commodity. The ability to retail is important for small farms.”

Mr. Bennewitz showed us the small smoking room, filled with the smell of wood chips. We also toured the room where the whole animal is transformed into [usually] nitrate-free salamis, Sweet Potato Liverwurst, sausages, bacon and bratwurst by the German Master Butcher, Frank, who is from Kassel, Germany and has been a butcher for 34 years. The newest product is homemade sauerkraut, which is prepared with cabbage from a local farm and and ham from the resident butcher.

Farmer to Fork

Uli Bennewitz began investing himself in the local farming and brewing community in 1986. His education at Agriculture College in England brought him to the United States, where his first agriculture-based job was clearing land for farming. Now, he manages a major area farm. Through his experience with industrial agriculture, Mr. Bennewitz became aware of the problems with food production and distribution in the U.S.

“A lot of people think that Europeans are way ahead of us, but they are way behind. They never gave up on the local brewer and butcher. That kind of craftsmanship needs to become more important to us. Most food travels over 2,000 miles before it reaches the store. Here [at Weeping Radish], we want to bring the distance down to 200. If you want to buy our products, you will need to come within a 200-mile radius, and we will not distribute further than that. The integrity is important. My integrity is to the farm.”

And so is mine, especially when the farmers care so deeply about their products, the environment, and their community.

“Everyone’s debating about health care right now, when they really need to be focusing on food. In order for food to be able to travel so far, you have to pasteurize it, to kill it, to add chemicals to it. It isn’t good for you. We need to change our farming practices; it would save a lot of money on health care down the road.”

As far as produce goes, the Weeping Radish is revamping their 24 acres by planting one half acre at a time.

The Weeping Radish

At the end of our tour, Kenny and I sampled beer and Matt prepared Apple Brats and Andouille for Kenny. Kenny said that the beer-braised sausage and brats reminded him of trips to Europe, “Maybe it’s because I know that it is prepared by hand, and because I met the guy who made it.”

I don’t eat meat, but I do drink beer. We sampled six types: the dark lager, Black Radish and the Weeping Radish Hefe Weizen were my favorites. Black Radish is listed as one of the “50 Beers to try before you die,” and I totally agree. It is slightly bitter with a roasted, smooth aftertaste. The Weizen was completely amazing, unbelievable, delicious. I can’t say enough about it. I could sit just smelling it all day. It smells like flowers and bananas. In my opinion, it should be in that “50 beers…before you die” list, too. Kenny, a big fan of amber lagers, loved the Fest beer. They also offer the golden lager Corrolla Gold beer, the OBX Kolsch style beer, and the Radler, which is 50 percent beer and 50 percent lemonade and is really tasty, especially for those “I don’t really like beer” people who drank Zima 10 years ago. Unlike Zima, it has a solid flavor and is oddly refreshing. If a lemon tree could be turned into a drink, it would taste like the Radler. It will be available in bottled form this summer, and we will so be among those lining up to stock up.

During our beer sampling, Matt also took us to the back and let us try the Weeping Radish Root Beer, fresh from the barrel. I am a freak for homemade Root Beer. Their version was amazing. Before we left, I asked Matt about the origin of the Weeping Radish’s name.

“In Germany,” he said, “they peel a radish, salt it, and hang it over a bowl or plate. The radish sweats or ‘weeps,’ and the salty tears are caught by the dish. Later, they dip radish peelings in the salted liquid. Apparently it’s really good with beer.”

Maybe someday they will serve radish spears at their bar. Either way, I’d suggest this place to almost anyone who loves good meat and/or awesome beer. Their cafe will be opening sometime in May, and they allow self-guided tours (standing on the platform overlooking the beer-making area) during their regular business hours. More than a fun place for a savory bite on the way to the Outer Banks, the Weeping Radish is a real farm with real animals and plants and a real dedication to sourcing and creating craft food that is good for the body and the community. My family and I will definitely be returning and returning, especially when the Radler is released, to restock on fancy drinks and keep tabs on the farm.