Grains to Schools by Dry Storage
The idea of connecting farms to schools resonated with me as both a fledging grain nerd and as someone who has spent time in a classroom as a teacher. We had hosted several school chefs at our mill in Boulder, and through a series of conversations, I was connected to Deb Yirku, the head chef for the Calhan School District. Given the nature of their agricultural community and the fact that the school had a scratch kitchen, Calhan emerged as a logical place to launch our own 'mini pilot' with Dry Storage flour.
September 23rd, 2024
By Nina Sohn, Dry Storage (CGC Business Member)
[8 minute read]
I had not previously thought much about flour. Perhaps at all. I nabbed items marked ‘organic’ at the grocery store, but flour seemed such a basic staple that I never given it any real consideration.
[8 minute read]
I had not previously thought much about flour. Perhaps at all. I nabbed items marked ‘organic’ at the grocery store, but flour seemed such a basic staple that I never given it any real consideration.
This changed several years ago when I sat down with Kelly Whitaker, a Michelin star chef, who has a passion for wheat (as evidenced by the tattoo of a wheat stalk adorning his forearm). Kelly explained why heirloom grain was different: the seeds have not been genetically modified and can be selected based on suitability to the environment in which it is grown. When harvested, heirloom wheat is milled slowly at low temperatures, the resulting flour is higher in protein and lower in gluten than flour milled by traditional high heat, rapid milling processes. The nutrition factors are profound, and the taste factor is incomparable.
Kelly founded Dry Storage, a flour and milling company which has since come under the Blue Room umbrella. Dry Storage contracts with local Colorado farmers to plant heirloom wheat seeds. Dry Storage chooses varietals that historically do well in our climate, and work with farmers who grow regeneratively (with a focus on soil health). Farmers are paid a premium such that it is worth using their acreage for heirloom wheat versus a different crop. The wheat is harvested, cleaned and milled in Boulder.
Several years ago, a Colorado ballot proposed a ‘Farm to School’ program, which voters approved. The program granted school districts a fiscal allotment for the purpose of purchasing food from local sources. Quality food for public schools + a meaningful investment in Colorado agricultural businesses.
A pilot program has run successfully for the last three years, but the formal program experienced funding vulnerabilities due to the unanticipated broader expense of supplying free meals in Colorado schools. The pilot was recently granted another year of funding, after which, everyone hopes, it will become a more permanent line item in the state budget.
The idea of connecting farms to schools resonated with me as both a fledging grain nerd and as someone who has spent time in a classroom as a teacher. We had hosted several school chefs at our mill in Boulder, and through a series of conversations, I was connected to Deb Yirku, the head chef for the Calhan School District. Given the nature of their agricultural community and the fact that the school had a scratch kitchen, Calhan emerged as a logical place to launch our own 'mini pilot' with Dry Storage flour.
Which is how I found myself, several weeks ago, with a fifty pound sample bag of Dry Storage flour, en route to Calhan, to meet with their kitchen staff.
Calhan is a small community (population of 736 as of the 2020 census). The school has 420 students, ranging from preschool through high school.
The drive to Calhan from Denver is beautiful. South on I25 followed by a series of 90 degree turns on long, rolling roads that cut through both wooded patches and flat fields studded with small farms, horses and cattle. There were also a superspring number of massive homes scattered throughout certain sections of the drive. It was later explained to me that farmers often sell their land to big developers, netting a higher payout than selling it as farmland.
Calhan is a small community (population of 736 as of the 2020 census). The school has 420 students, ranging from preschool through high school.
The drive to Calhan from Denver is beautiful. South on I25 followed by a series of 90 degree turns on long, rolling roads that cut through both wooded patches and flat fields studded with small farms, horses and cattle. There were also a superspring number of massive homes scattered throughout certain sections of the drive. It was later explained to me that farmers often sell their land to big developers, netting a higher payout than selling it as farmland.
The Calhan kitchen bears witness to organized choreography that yields nearly 900 meals daily: breakfast and lunch for a school that houses preschoolers through high school seniors, under the capable and experienced leadership of Deb. Deb has been in charge of the kitchen for 30 years. I had the fortune of meeting her just months before her retirement, an event she looks forward to (more time with her grandchildren) and laments deeply. She is attached to the generations of children who have started as preschoolers and gone on to graduate from Calhan, a journey she has witnessed repeatedly during her tenure. The community is tightly knit: during Covid, the kitchen crew at Calhan showed up daily, masks donned, to make meals for all the students, which were delivered to drop off spots via school bus. They even colored eggs for Easter. “The kids transitioned to remote learning so smoothly because they all had tablets”. Deb explained that maintaining the food program was part of that continuity.
I quickly discovered that the most powerful piece of the Dry Storage story - the relationship with farmers - was the most compelling component to this school kitchen crew. They each have a personal connection to agriculture: they are ranchers and farmers themselves, going back generations. Each of them had livestock (I was almost embarrassed to admit to having only one small designer poodle mix), and a more sophisticated understanding of regenerative farming than I do. Using a product that supports the livelihood of small farmers resonates deeply with them.
Not inclined to be a bystander in this very busy little kitchen, I jumped into the sandwich making queue. Several hundred sandwiches later, I told Deb to change my contact in her phone to “Sandwich Maker Extraordinaire”. I was teasing, but found out a few days later that she did, in fact, edit my contact info.
The bag of flour I brought found its way into a huge vat of zucchini bread (the school teachers had contributed the zucchini, which had been shredded and frozen, from their own gardens). I really gained acceptance when I was caught swiping my finger on the batter bowl for a quick taste before it was brought to the dishwasher.
I quickly discovered that the most powerful piece of the Dry Storage story - the relationship with farmers - was the most compelling component to this school kitchen crew. They each have a personal connection to agriculture: they are ranchers and farmers themselves, going back generations. Each of them had livestock (I was almost embarrassed to admit to having only one small designer poodle mix), and a more sophisticated understanding of regenerative farming than I do. Using a product that supports the livelihood of small farmers resonates deeply with them.
Not inclined to be a bystander in this very busy little kitchen, I jumped into the sandwich making queue. Several hundred sandwiches later, I told Deb to change my contact in her phone to “Sandwich Maker Extraordinaire”. I was teasing, but found out a few days later that she did, in fact, edit my contact info.
The bag of flour I brought found its way into a huge vat of zucchini bread (the school teachers had contributed the zucchini, which had been shredded and frozen, from their own gardens). I really gained acceptance when I was caught swiping my finger on the batter bowl for a quick taste before it was brought to the dishwasher.
I left Calhan that day with a container of zucchini bread, new friends and a mind full of reflection. The trip galvanized the commitment to the potential impact Dry Storage can make by working to get locally grown and milled flour into schools statewide. It will take ingenuity, given the fragility of the funding, and the support and enthusiasm of people like Deb.
Two weeks after my first visit to Calhan, I returned, this time with 200 pounds of flour that Deb had officially ordered for use through the remainder of the school year. I told her she needed to add ‘Flour Sherpa’ in addition to ’sandwich maker’ onto my contact card.
And I reassured her, I would make that delivery drive any time.