Grass-Fed Beef Is Not a Commodity

Last night at Churchtown Dairy in upstate New York, ribeyes from three farms went over an open fire.

The event was called the Great Steak Cookoff. Our Tyner Pond Farm ribeyes were served alongside beef from the home team at Churchtown Dairy and our friend Glenn Elzinga of Alderspring Ranch in Idaho.

On a label, all three could be placed in the same broad category: grass-fed beef.

But that description misses nearly everything that made the tasting worthwhile.

Grass-Fed Beef Is Not One Thing

I do not believe our real competition is feedlot beef.

Our real competition is the perception that grass-fed beef is one thing.

When customers see the words “grass-fed,” they may assume that one package is much like another. That is how a commodity works. The producer becomes almost irrelevant because the products are considered interchangeable.

Grass-fed beef is not interchangeable.

The term tells us something important about what the animal ate, but it does not tell us about the pasture, the soil, the cattle, the farmer, or the management.

It does not tell us whether the pasture contained a wide range of plants or only a few. It does not tell us how frequently the cattle moved, how long the land rested, or whether the animal was properly finished.

It also tells us nothing about genetics, age, handling, processing, aging, or how quickly the beef was frozen.

Grass-fed is a starting point, not a guarantee.

Three Farms and Three Places

That was what made the Churchtown tasting so useful.

Glenn and his family at Alderspring Ranch raise cattle on wild mountain pastures in Idaho. Their cattle graze a remarkably diverse landscape on over 40,000 acres, and the family has spent more than 30 years developing its grass-fed beef.

Alderspring is also where food writer Mark Schatzker concluded the worldwide search described in his book, Steak: One Man’s Search for the World’s Tastiest Piece of Beef.

After traveling the world—sampling Kobe in Japan, grass-fed beef in Argentina, and heritage breeds across Europe and North America—Schatzker concluded his worldwide quest at Alderspring Ranch, calling their 100% grass-fed beef the absolute peak of his journey.

This was not just another grass-fed steak. It came from a ranch known for taking flavor, land, and cattle seriously.

Churchtown Dairy raises food in the Hudson Valley. The farm operates a raw milk dairy, creamery, and garden while preserving agricultural traditions that support both human and ecological health.

Then there was our beef from central Indiana.

Our cattle graze the deep soils and mixed pastures in Hancock County. We receive substantial rainfall and have long spring and fall growing seasons. Jim moves the cattle regularly, watches what they take, and gives the land time to recover before they return.

Idaho mountain country is not the Hudson Valley. The Hudson Valley is not central Indiana.

The beef should reflect those differences.

The Taste of Place Is Real

Talking about the taste of place can sound sentimental, but it is grounded in practical things.

Soil affects plants. Weather affects plants. Plant diversity affects what cattle select as they graze. Genetics affect how an animal grows and finishes. Management determines whether cattle have enough good forage at the right stage of growth.

The farmer makes decisions within all of those conditions.

That work eventually reaches the plate.

Industrial agriculture tries to remove these differences. A large commodity system needs products to be predictable and interchangeable. It separates the food from the place and often from the people who raised it.

The three steaks at Churchtown represented a different approach. Each came from a known farm. Each came from cattle managed by people who could explain how they were raised. Each steak carried the effect of a particular landscape.

The differences were not defects. They were the point.

People Loved Our Ribeye

The Great Steak Cookoff was not really a contest. No official winner was named, and the crowd appreciated all three steaks.

Still, I am going to brag a little.

People loved the Tyner Pond Farm ribeyes.

Our steak did not merely belong at that table. It stood comfortably alongside beef from Alderspring Ranch and Churchtown Dairy, and people noticed it.

That meant a great deal to me. We were serving our beef beside a ranch where Mark Schatzker’s worldwide search for the perfect steak ended. We were also guests of a farm deeply committed to protecting small farms and real food.

Tyner Pond Farm came to that table from Indiana, and the response was unmistakable: people loved our ribeye..

Jim’s Work Was on the Plate

More than anything, I was proud of my son Jim.

Jim does the daily work of managing our cattle and pastures. He decides where the cattle move, how much forage they take, and when a paddock is ready to be grazed again.

Those decisions cannot be made by following a fixed corporate formula. Conditions change. Rainfall changes. Plants grow at different rates throughout the year. Every group of cattle is a little different.

Jim has to observe the land and respond to what is happening.

We do not use grain to rush our cattle toward a finishing date. The quality has to come from the animal, the forage, and the management.

Last night, people could taste the result of that work.

We Should Know the Farm’s Name

As grass-fed beef becomes more popular, there will be pressure to turn it into another anonymous national commodity. 

A large company can gather cattle from many sources, put the beef under one label, and sell “grass-fed” as though that term tells the whole story. It does not.

Customers should be able to ask more questions:

Who raised this animal? Where did it live? What did its pasture look like? How was it managed? Was it properly finished? How was the beef processed and handled?

Those questions bring the farm back into the food.

We put the Tyner Pond Farm name on our beef because we want that connection and accountability. Our beef comes from our cattle, our pastures, and the daily decisions made here in Indiana.

That does not make every Tyner Pond steak identical. Farming is biological, and every animal and season is different. But it does mean the beef comes from a known place and a consistent set of principles.

Grass-fed beef is not one thing. It is not a commodity.

Last night at Churchtown Dairy, people were not simply tasting grass-fed beef. They were tasting Alderspring, Churchtown, and Tyner Pond.

I was proud of how clearly they could taste Indiana.

Good food begins with a place.