I’ve been struggling with something of an awkward, even embarrassing, situation. It’s not all that huge in the scheme of things, but it’s been making me uncomfortable, nevertheless.

Here’s the deal: Over the past year, I’ve been buying some beef from the farmer who sells me my raw milk. Except my wife and I have realized that sometimes we don’t care for the beef. The quality is inconsistent. Sometimes it’s great, sometimes it’s tough, sometimes too grisly.

I suspect that part of the problem is that this farmer produces a number of products—in addition to milk and beef, she bakes pies and cookies and designs greeting cards—and thus isn’t as focused on the fine points of raising beef as other farmers are. She’s also just not raising many cattle. It seems as if she has one slaughtered ever four or five months, freezes the meat, and gradually sells it.

So we began purchasing beef from a couple of other farmers who sell at a farmers market, and decided that one of those farms, which bills itself as a specialist in grass-fed beef, consistently produces a top-quality product. It’s clear that this farm is raising more cattle, and tending to them more systematically, than the first farm.

For a time, I bought beef from both farmers. But of late, I find myself buying only milk from the first farmer. When I’ve called her to arrange to pick up the milk, she’s asked me a couple of times whether I need any beef, and I’ve said, “No, not this time.”

I understand well that as we make ordinary purchasing decisions over time, we may shift away from one business and toward another. Sometimes it’s because of convenience, sometimes because of pricing, and sometimes because of quality. These shifts generally happen nearly anonymously in our huge market economy.

Still, I feel badly about this situation. I’ve thought about saying something to the first farmer about her beef, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt her feelings or she’ll become defensive. She’s told me more than once that her cattle are raised "with love." Then again, it could be argued that I should say something, since that’s the only way she’ll know that she has an issue. Or maybe I just let my actions—continuing to purchase raw milk but not buying beef—speak for themselves

I guess the fact that I’m even dwelling on this situation at all indicates that there is something a little different about the nature of the relationship that forms when buying directly from one farmer or another. The fact that I call her to arrange for product pickups, and often wind up discussing the weather or equipment problems she might be having or animal idiosyncracies, give the relationship a different tenor than even a farmers market relationship. It’s not always a pleasant tenor.

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Given all the discussion on this blog about the children who became sick, possibly from Organic Pastures milk, I suspect a few readers will find this blog posting of interest. It’s from a consumer who froze some Organic Pastures milk that was recalled last September, and now wonders what to do with it.

At first, it occurred to me that the milk might be of value for testing as to the presence of E.coli. But then I realized that much of the recalled milk was no doubt tested by agriculture and public health authorities, who came up with nothing. What was really needed for testing was the milk consumed by the children who became ill, and, of course, that milk is gone.