Ómós Digest #155: Buzzing for an Irish mill
From Farm Life to Unexpected Discoveries. Written by Cúán Greene.
Hello,
A farm visit leads me to discover Wagyu’s love for Beethoven, a DIY Apitherapy experience, a future for circular farming, and a more personal way of gifting.
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I hope you enjoy it,
Cúán.
Dreams vs. Reality
A week ago I visited The Merry Mill, an organic oat mill run by Miller Kevin Scully. Located not far from our site and near Vicarstown in Co. Laois, I was leaving Dublin early that morning to beat the traffic and spent 5 minutes running around the house in search of a gift to bring. I hate arriving empty-handed. But within the walls of my suburban home lay a problem…. My fridge was empty. My shelf of preserves had dwindled. There is no garden to speak of. And I spend most of my days at my desk. As I briskly drove off empty-handed, I asked myself, what do I produce, make or create other than this digital newsletter? Nowadays the only tactility in my day is brewing a coffee or making dinner. As we enter autumn, I am ashamed to say that I have gone the entire summer without lighting a barbecue. How sad is that? And so, through the entirety of that journey to the mill, I thought about the fundamental differences that living rurally might provide. In the next chapter of my life, I see enormous levels of production, growth and creation - in a rush to find a gift for a local farmer or member of our community, there will be an abundance to choose from. We’ll have fresh flowers to cut. There will be homegrown vegetables to harvest. A glut of preserves in our pantry. Freshly made yoghurt or butter, or even a loaf of bread going begging. To be in the surroundings of natural resources and productivity takes on a whole other meaning of wealth.
I’m often asked if I find myself dreaming about what the future will behold, and in truth, I rarely allow myself to. I feel romance is the reason so many hospitality novices open cafés and restaurants, soon to realise that playing records and casually sipping on coffee, while chatting with wonderful customers and guests, is far from reality. Relatively speaking, opening a hospitality business has a low barrier to entry — capital is required rather than education. However, to succeed in hospitality is quite another story. Romance is therefore a significant culprit for the historic high failure rate (disclosure: for the most part, this has no connection to recent closures as a result of inflation/global impact/government neglect). That said, I occasionally grant myself allowance to be taken by the fictional world. What triggers it is often recurring themes: standing in and amongst crops and wildflower meadows on still summer evenings, or the prospect of sourcing a great selection of wine made by the most talented and exciting producers that will be shipped and sipped here in Laois. The practice of preserving and storing kilos of fresh and local produce, harvesting directly from our land at its best, canning, jarring, and locking in the memories, fit for the quieter and more frugal months to come. The chatter from excited dining rooms, the crackle and perfumed aromas of open fires. However, what often puts a stop to this is realism, budgets, and spreadsheets – yet they too allow these thoughts to manifest again.
Power in Community
As you're likely aware by now, I have a great passion for meeting farmers and growers. Learning about how they live and why they do what they do fascinates me. I enjoy learning about their abiding principles and duty to nature and I love the relationship we create when values align, but I always come away thinking how hard a lifestyle it is because their work is globally undervalued. Last week, I attended a farm walk at McNally’s Family Farm, alongside 28 different organic growers from around the country. It was humbling to interact with people who have such a profound connection with and knowledge about soil, with an underlying necessity to grow. Jenny McNally, who together with her family has run McNally’s Family Farm since 1991, is considered a demi-god by chefs, customers, and as I experienced, Ireland’s growing organic community and association. Across 77 acres, the family (plus a few additional hands) grow and manage over 80 varieties of organic fruits and vegetables on open fields and in their 52 polytunnels. It’s a gargantuan organic mixed farming operation, albeit on a micro scale for conventional farming. They sell directly to the consumer through markets and their beautiful farm shop, café and bakery, where the unsold veg features ‘industrially’ delicious fillings for freshly baked focaccia sandwiches. Before setting out on the farm walk, Jenny shared why she got into farming over 30 years ago: “We have a grá for farming and therefore we were always going to farm.” It was a statement from Ireland’s mother earth to us all. We have a deep love and passion for farming, and no matter what, this is our livelihood and commitment. I can’t express how enlightened I felt following that day, being granted the opportunity to walk the most prolific organic farm in the country and learn about McNally's principles and practices gathered over 30 years, alongside other Irish growers. It’s akin to Apple showing Microsoft, Google and Samsung around for the day, demonstrating all their practices and secrets before sending them home with a sandwich.
Despite the economic viability of small organic mixed farms being threatened, I was particularly taken with the sense of community and optimism that day. The importance of simply gathering and being amongst your own, sharing both unsettling and inspiring stories, and seeing a farm operate efficiently and profitably, despite the obvious demands, provided clear hope to all at large. Similarly to Jenny, these people were collectively in this game out of duty, determination and pure connection.
The Merry Mill
Approaching the Merry Mill in Laois, rolling green hills were soon replaced by Kevin’s golden oat fields. The crops encircle his family home roofed with red corrugated steel, typical of the area. Kevin greeted me warmly before showing me into his mill, while explaining the entire process from sowing seed to milling organic gluten-free oat flour. He pointed towards a tower of 2-tonne sacks of grain stored one on top of the next, like building blocks, informing me that if he were to sell the oats unprocessed he would obtain 200 euros a bag. Process it into flour, however, and the same weight yielded over 15 times that. He sells organic rolled oats and flour, amongst other oat-related products. His farm implements a circular form of agriculture. Kevin turns the spent grain (the husks) into compost. He raises a small herd of Wagyu cattle which sustain a diet of oats and sleep in the mound of spent grain as it turns to compost. During this process, the natural gases produced during decomposition equate to heat, which the cattle take to like a cosy blanket on a cold winter’s night. This compost is then spread over his land and the process starts over. Kevin’s cattle must be the most chilled-out cattle in Ireland. In the shed where they are kept, classical music can be heard. By all accounts it relaxes them…
For the penultimate part of my tour, I was invited to visit Kevin’s crops. Located on the field's edge was a horsebox. Nothing out of the ordinary, I thought, until Kevin shared that it had been repurposed into an ‘Apitherapy room’. I was then invited in. Apitherapy is an ancient form of alternative therapy with honeybees. It’s used to treat illnesses and their symptoms, as well as pain from acute and chronic injuries. There are alternative forms of apitherapy to choose from; some are mild, such as orally ingesting bee bi-products, like honey and propolis, whereas others are more severe, like directly injecting the venom into traditional acupuncture points of the body – it’s said to help reduce inflammation. In Kevin’s ‘Apihouse’ however, neither was the case. I ducked my head under the horsebox’s doorway and found myself standing in a room that, well, looked like a horsebox with a bed and chair in it. I then turned around and Kevin was also standing in the horsebox. I thought “this could be it for me”. Kevin invited me to lie down on the bed, which I did. I soon began to feel a vibration under my back. He then revealed that beneath me were over 1500 bees. The vibro-massage I was being given came from the bees. Kevin had carved out a space large enough to fit two bee hives beneath the bed. The micro-vibration was caused by the fanning of their wings within the hives to evaporate moisture from the nectar and mature the honey. It’s said that micro-vibrations have the capability to tone our nervous, circulatory and muscular systems, producing a state of self-healing and balance. I can testify to this. Although the experience of lying in a 3x2m horsebox next to a 6ft 3 bearded man, talking about the natural ailment properties of bees might seem odd, the experience was not. At that moment it felt entirely normal and very lovely. The natural white noise created by the bees, along with the electromagnetics that waved through our bodies, placed us into what I can only describe as a meditative trance. If it were not for the bees, I think such abnormal conditions would have me running a mile. But with them, and along with all the other wonderful aspects of Kevin's farm, it makes me wonder if he should introduce an alternative revenue stream.
For the entirety of the farm visit, a small robin was ever-present. She seemingly follows Kevin around, never quite in touching distance, but ever so close. It’s a small anecdote but somewhat paints the picture of how complete a farm the Merry Mill is. Of course, the investment in the milling equipment is considerable, along with the cost of packaging and logistics, but the mechanics of the operation have allowed Kevin to reduce labour to the point that he, with the help of his family, can run the mill independently. I was enthused to discover the viability of the business. Kevin shared that while he is not motivated by money and works hard for what he produces, he has been successful in milling Ireland’s only organic, gluten-free oats consistently for him and his family to live comfortably.
