We love sharing our farm with visitors. And while this may not be as good as being here in person, mainly because you don’t get to pet a pig, we hope you enjoy a little peek of what we do and why we do it.
A HUGE THANK YOU to Known & Grown St. Louis for making this video and allowing us to share it.
Known & Grown STL is a project of Gateway Sustainable Farmers Alliance that works to build a more resilient and equitable food system by supporting and spreading awareness about sustainable farmers within 150 miles of St. Louis.
Knows & Grown works to ensure Small-scale farmers have the tools, resources, knowledge, and support to succeed.




My mom’s mom, Grams, lived with us for a few years. When she didn’t live with us, we went to visit often. Grams was a great cook. Tamales, menudo, tortillas, mexican rice, everything she made was delicious. And most everything had lard in it. I remember being in her kitchen. The rickety floor, dimly lit, hot, and kind of scary kitchen. I would help her make tortillas while I tried to absorb every iota of smell wafting through the air–frying beans, browning rice, a stockpot full of I was never sure what, chili powder, garlic, and cumin. I loved being in the kitchen with her, but it’s only now I realize the impact it had on me.
Grams had the softest hands. When I was upset or in trouble, as I often was after my parent’s divorce, I would lay next to her as she’d stroke my face or hold my hand and hum. Her hum would vibrate through my whole body and calm me. She would take a lock of hair at the root and softly pull to the ends, over and over. To this day, when I am really stressed, I do this.
My mom’s dad, Ducky, was another story. I didn’t spend too much time with him, but the time I did spend was usually intense. Ducky was a carpenter. He built the house my mom spent some of her late teens in and lives in now. He salvaged brick from a housing project that was torn down to build the house.
As a child, I was always a bit afraid of him. His gruff voice from smoking since he was 11, his slicked-back jet black hair, and lack of conversation. But, when I would see him, he’d smile and say, “Oh, Weena, where have you been?” As I got older, the conversation with him became easier and I learned a lot about him. During World War 2, he was in the Navy. On the way home, he and a friend stopped in the South Pacific in hopes of watching nuclear bomb testing. It was taking too long, so they hopped on the next ship that came through and headed home.
My grandparents had a bit of an unconventional marriage. They both worked, and my grandfather, Baboo, did the cooking. Baboo, like Grams, did not spare the fat in his cooking. While I did have to choke down peas and lamb on occasion, and meals were not by request, he also made special things for me and my brother and sister.

When we started with hogs, besides having super yummy pork, we were really excited about having lard. We LOVE cooking with lard.



