ENDICOTT - Richard Scheuerman's figurative journey to the Garden of Eden began at the Fort Nisqually trading post.
Scheuerman, a historian and educator, was working at Seattle Pacific University several years ago when he chanced upon some original journals from the Hudson Bay Company's 1830s-era station on Puget Sound.
He was struck by how many entries talked about wheat. It turns out the old fur traders had to grow much of their own food, including grains for bread and beer.
Like any good historian - particularly one born and raised on the Palouse, one of the nation's premier dryland wheat districts - Scheuerman wondered what kind of wheat it was.
The grain can be broadly divided based on texture and color (such as soft white or hard red wheat), as well as when it's planted (fall/winter or spring). Within each of those categories, though, there are hundreds of individual varieties.
No small grains are native to North America, so whatever the Hudson Bay traders were using, they had to bring it in themselves. But which specific varieties did they grow?
That initial question sparked an 18-month investigation into colonial agriculture and ultimately prompted Scheuerman and his brother, Don, to start Palouse Colony Farm.
The 35-acre operation, located near Endicott, specializes in heritage or "landrace" grains. These are older varieties that predate modern hybridization efforts; they would have been familiar not only to early American colonists, but to the Vikings and Celts, the Crusaders and Roman legions. Some may even date back to biblical times.
The farm has experimented with about a dozen different grains over the past few years, including barley and rye varietals, as well as several types of wheat. They have names like Purple Egyptian and Sonoran Gold, Yellow Breton and Walla Walla Red. Some are available for sale, while others are still being raised for seed stock - a necessary step when, in many cases, they haven't been grown commercially in more than a century.
It remains unclear, though, after three years of production, whether this niche market will prove to be sustainable over the long run.
"I wanted to combine my interest in history with grain production," Scheuerman said. "But is it economically viable? Do these landrace grains have a place outside a museum?"
The historian in him loves investigating the provenance of these heritage grains, but the farmer and educator in him is equally fascinated by this question of viability: In an age of mass-produced wheat and commodity grains, can ancient landrace varieties still provide a competitive edge?
"We're small," he said, "but intrigued
by possibilities."
Grain with a story
Scheuerman made his comments during a recent FarmWalk tour organized by Washington State University's Food Systems Program and the Tilth Alliance. The focus was on value-added opportunities with specialty grains and vertical integration. About 20 people participated in the event, which featured stops at Palouse Colony Farm and Joseph's Grainery in Colfax.
Nicole Witham, WSU Extension coordinator for the Food Systems Program, said the increase in craft breweries, distilleries and artisan bakeries is driving interest in these unusual grains.
"They have some unique colors and flavor profiles, so brewers and bakers love getting their hands on them," Witham said.
She's not sure how many farmers are growing specialty grains in the Pacific Northwest, but participation in the program's annual Cascadia Grains Conference has nearly tripled since 2013, to more than 400 people.
"I'd say about 30 percent are farmers, and that's just a snippet of those who are most engaged," Witham said. "So it's definitely a growing movement."
Specialty grains require a bit more work than commodity wheat, though. As Scheuerman noted during his presentation, it takes a great deal of persistence and one-on-one marketing. Even getting enough seed to plant a crop can be a hurdle.
During its first year of operation, for example, Palouse Colony Farm raised white lammas wheat and bere barley. Those were the mystery grains the Fort Nisqually traders were growing, Scheuerman said. They also were among the first grains grown in colonial America.
White lammas was still being raised commercially in 1916, when the U.S. Department of Agriculture collected a sample of germ plasm. Palouse Colony got some of those seeds; it also received some bere barley from the Orkney Islands in Scotland, where a small amount is still being grown 1,200 years after it was introduced by the Vikings.
"We started out with less than a 50-pound bag of Scots bere," said Andrew Wolfe, Scheuerman's nephew and manager of Palouse Colony Farm. "A lot of our varieties we've grown out from far less than that - a pint or less. It's a labor of love, and it tests your patience."
That's evident from their efforts to grow Eden gold, the name Scheuerman gave to a rare hard white wheat that was initially collected near Basra, Iraq, in 1903.
Basra is located near the juncture of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, in the region where the agricultural cultivation of wheat and barley is believed to have first taken place. It's also near the fabled Hanging Gardens of Babylon and the legendary site of the Garden of Eden.
"We got about 20 kernels from an obscure European germ plasm bank that shared in that 1903 discovery," Scheuerman said. "We're the only place in the United States where this is being grown."
Palouse Colony's plot of Eden gold is about the size of two mattresses put together - barely enough to hide a snake, much less an apple tree.
"This may be the world's supply of the wheat that was grown in the Garden of Eden," Scheuerman said.
That may be a bit of hyperbole, but specialty grains having a good story can be critical to connecting with buyers. Along with flavor and nutrition, it's part of the reason people are willing to pay more for them.
"We got an inquiry from a church group in California that wants to use (Eden gold) for their communion wafers," Scheuerman said. "Another potential marketing opportunity (for specialty grains) is pancake houses. There really is a Swedish pancake grain, and a French crepe grain and Belgian waffle grain. These are authentic grains, so if you can connect with people who care about that history - if you can market a true story - then the public will catch on. But you need to be persistent."
'The problem is consistency'
Yields for landrace grains are typically less than modern hybrids, but not outrageously so. Wolfe said Palouse Colony Farm averages about 50 to 60 bushels per acre for dryland farming, with about 16 inches of rainfall per season. Modern varieties, by comparison, average closer to 70 bushels.
Given recent trends in commodity agriculture, some farmers are willing to take the hit and focus at least part of their operation on niche opportunities.
"The economies of scale favor huge operations, but I wanted off the commodity treadmill," said Bill Myers, the owner of Joseph's Grainery.
The 8-year-old business operates out of a hangar at the Port of Whitman Business Air Center at the Colfax airport. It offers a variety of whole grains, milled flours, malted barley and prepackaged mixes, all made from the wheat, barley and lentils he grows on his nearby farm.
Myers initially tried marketing whole grains at local farmers markets. Most customers didn't really know what to do with the raw grain, though, so he started grinding it into flour at their request. Now he operates a larger-capacity mill.
Although the extra work allows him to capture higher margins, Myers said the grainery was essentially "a glorified hobby" until he connected with some craft breweries in the Spokane area. They started using his Baronesse barley as malt in their beer and fell in love with it.
"Now we're getting to the point we can pay some serious bills around here," he told the FarmWalk group. "It's been a good run, so we're branching out into distilleries."
For farmers, having that direct relationship with customers and end users is part of the appeal of specialty grains. However, it also highlights one of the major challenges.
"The problem is consistency," Myers said.
Large manufacturers typically abhor inconsistency. Whether they're making beer or bread or noodles, they want one batch to taste exactly the same as the next. But when you're the sole producer of Baronesse barley, as Myers is, consistency is impossible to maintain. Growing conditions vary from year to year, and so too does the quality of the finished grain.
The wine industry has embraced this variability with its concepts of terroir and vintage. Changes in temperature, precipitation and the timing of precipitation can drive aficionados into raptures or despair, and explain why a 2001 vintage may cost four times more than the 2011 vintage.
These concepts historically haven't been part of the beer industry, but that's beginning to change. Terroir, for example, was a specific focus of one of the educational sessions at this year's Cascadia Grains Conference.
Scheuerman said it's going to take some consumer education to let people know that variability isn't a bad thing.
"The flour our grandparents ate was flavorful and nutritious, but it wasn't identical from one batch to the next," he said. "In Europe, breads are overwhelmingly brown, and the beer is cloudy. But that's not the case in the U.S. We're fighting culture."
But they make a better loaf
Nor is it just end consumers who needs to be educated. For Scheuerman and Myers, creating partnerships with bakers and brewers who are willing to accept some inconsistency was a critical step in the heritage grain food chain.
"I understand perfectly why most bakers like working with (traditional) white flour," said Rob Salvino, owner of the Damsel & Hopper Bakeshop in Seattle.
Salvino uses Sonoran Gold and Crimson Turkey wheat varieties from Palouse Colony Farm in some of his products. On his website, he emphasizes the superior flavor and nutritional characteristics of these heritage grains, calling them the "heirloom tomatoes of the wheat world."
However, he also says their inconsistency "can be a huge challenge."
"When you buy a bag of traditional white flour, those manufacturers have it dialed in; it's going to be the same as last year, and perform the same," he said. "But with small-batch varietal grains, there's a lot more variability at play - not only the year-to-year variation in the field, but the batch-to-batch variation (in the milled flour)."
That variability means today's loaf might be a touch denser than last week's perfect loaf. It also means bakers need to pay attention and make adjustments as they go along.
"We're dealing with tens of pounds of dough, rather than hundreds of pounds, so we notice if something's different and know what to do," Salvino said. "I think it makes you a better baker."
Overall, he said, using heritage grains and having them specially milled to his desired characteristics probably triples his ingredient costs. While ingredients only account for a small percentage of the total cost of a loaf of bread, it's one more factor that limits demand for these ancient varietals.
"If they didn't make a better product, I wouldn't be using them," Salvino said. "But when they're on, they make a beautiful loaf - one of the best I've ever had."
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Spence may be contacted at bspence@lmtribune.com or (208) 791-9168.
If you go
Joseph's Grainery will host its annual "Baronesse Barley Harvest Day" celebration Aug. 18.
Owner Bill Myers said the event gives people an opportunity to "drink last year's barley while we harvest this year's crop."
Beer and spirits made with Myers' Baronesse barley will be available to sample in the field while combines are harvesting the 2018 crop. Live music will be provided by the band Tone Sober.
Myers' farm is located near Colfax. For more information are reservations are available at www.josephsgrainery.com.