and I run this business along with my beautiful wife, Nellie, and our two wonderful boys, Parker and Boston.

My journey to bringing this tasty Varscht to you started as a young boy. I come from a huge Mennonite family of 15. I have 5 sisters and am the youngest of the 10 boys. A big family means big meals. I remember coming into our farmhouse and smelling the freshly baked bread Mom had just pulled out of the oven–there was nothing better than a freshly baked bun cut in half, with a squirt of mustard and a piece of Dads perfectly smoked Farmer’s Varscht that Mom had fried. Still makes my mouth water. 

I was no older than maybe 12 when I worked alongside my Dad learning the fine art of butchering, meat cutting, and sausage making. I observed with a keen interest in particular how Dad would make Mennonite Farmer’s Varscht. He would prepare and season the ground pork, fill the sausage maker with meat, and apply just enough pressure to the sausage with each crank to ensure the casing filled with ground pork just perfectly. His skillful hands worked effortlessly in a smooth motion, going back and forth, back and forth, as coils of freshly formed sausage lined the meat shop table. The coils were stacked and taken to a simple, yet very efficient homemade cinderblock smokehouse just a short distance behind the meat shop. Dad was very particular about the smoking process. Because of our culture, this came as second nature to him, and I had seen my Dad do this many times. 

I didn’t realize as a young boy that my distinct heritage was being passed on to me, and didn’t give this much thought. I have come to see just how much of an ancestral art & science this truly is. The enjoyment of working with meat stayed with me into my adult life. I remembered having a conversation with my Dad before he passed away, telling him that one day I would love to see this Varscht available for purchase in stores. It was a huge dream, and with the support of my wife, my two boys, and through much hard work, many struggles and great triumphs, my dream has become a reality. How I wish Dad could see the results of what he passed onto me, he would be so proud!

We are grateful to each of you who have helped make our dreams a reality. If you’d popped by the farm at mealtime, Dad would have been sure to invite you to join us. Mom would have been excited to meet you and welcomed you saying “There is always room for one more,” so “pull up a chair to our big farmhouse kitchen table and with folded hands and bowed heads let’s thank the Good Lord for all He has done for us!”