Why is farmers’ market bread so ridiculously expensive?

The day is cold and windy, a sunny but bracing 32 degrees in New York City. But at the Union Square Greenmarket, one of more than 50 farmers’ markets in the city, and a stalwart in operation since 1976, a brisk business is afoot at the Regional Grains Project stand. While the winter tends to be quiet for many regional farmers who sell their products at the market, it’s high season for the stand, a collaborative effort between the Greenmarket and a number of farmers, millers, and distributors in the Northeast.

Piled high with freshly milled flours, whole grains, beans, and cooking oils, all sourced from the northeastern United States, the stand sees a steady early morning stream of visitors. Home bakers, interested eaters, and regulars all pop by to pick up bulk bags of rolled oats for the hot breakfasts that sustain them through winter’s last gasp. A baker connected to Greenmarket favorite She Wolf Bakery, stops by to pick up several bulk bags of rye flour—a stopgap measure meant to last until the company can get a full pallet of flour from the same mill.

Cities large and small have seen a renaissance of whole-grain bakers using freshly milled flour.

Originally constructed as a promotional mechanism for local and regional grains, the Grainstand, as the stand is affectionately known, has since morphed into a mechanism for building local grains capacity in New York City. Officially called the Regional Grains Project, it directly connects chefs, brewers, distillers, and bakers who sell at the Greenmarket with the regional products, farmers, and producers they need to know.

While the initiative was built in part to serve bakeries operating in the Greenmarket—bakeries now required to use at least 15 percent local and regional grains in their products—it has grown to serve bakers and breadmakers who work outside the bounds of Union Square park, too.

What’s the saying—build it and they will come? When it comes to regional grain-sheds, maybe it’s more like build it and they will clone.

That’s what’s happened with the Regional Grains Project, which has been replicated across the country from California’s CA Grain Campaign, Colorado’s Noble Grain Alliance, and the Maine Grain Alliance, to informal networks cropping up in places like Austin, Texas; Ann Arbor, Michigan; New Orleans, Louisiana, and even Saskatoon, Saskatchewan in Canada. These efforts, along with increasing popular interest in whole-grain baking, fresh milling, and the advantages of sourdough baking, showcase how the local grains movement has matured. These are places where demand for healthy, flavorful food is being matched with economic viability and soil health for farmers and rural communities.

One of the clearest indicators that regional grain-sheds are starting to thrive is the rise of local bakeries. From Skowhegan, Maine to Spokane, Washington, cities large and small have seen a renaissance of whole-grain bakers using freshly milled flour. And though local grains and can be more expensive than commodity counterparts—it’s not uncommon to find a loaf of bread priced at $10 or more—their customers are apparently willing to pay for it. At least some Americans seem to accept that bread that costs more to produce, and is baked by skilled bakers who make sustainable livings, will also cost more to buy.

But, wait. This escalated pricing raises an important question about who gets to access these products, and in turn, reveals a critical inflection point in the regional grains revival. While we wait for capacity to be built, which will eventually decrease costs and raise the efficiencies of distribution for regional grains, who is the customer for $10-a-loaf, whole-grain bread?

Though local grains and can be more expensive than commodity counterparts—it’s not uncommon to find a loaf of bread priced at $10 or more—customers are apparently willing to pay for it

Washington Post columnist and oyster farmer Tamar Haspel has said the local foods movement is a niche for rich folks, and there are plenty of others who support that particular read. The issue of comparative cost has, for some time now, dogged the movement: Accusations of posh, arugula-eating liberalism are used to frame good-food advocates as feudalist-romanticists or worse, out-of-touch elitists. And while there are enough studies to show the relative cost-competitiveness of local foods in season, when it comes to value-added products like bread, the claim carries with it a little more weight. Last year, the New York Post reported on the pricey artisanal bakeries popping up throughout the Big Apple, and their generally well-heeled clientele—including a financial analyst who defended her $4 baguette, saying, “If it’s good, it doesn’t matter how much it costs.” One baker I spoke to indicated that, for now, finding customers willing to pay high prices is part of the job, necessary to support higher-than-average wages, employee benefits, and commitment to local sourcing.

Escalated pricing raises an important question: Who is the customer for $10-a-loaf, whole-grain bread?

The difficulty in reaching lower-income communities and communities of color is real, one that many in the local foods movement and the grain movement in general acknowledge, and are attempting to work on. But as tempting as it is to view this as a weakness of the movement, if there is one takeaway, it would be this: It may not necessarily be the domain of bakeries to resolve the issue of affordability and access to their products.

The fact is, there was a greater degree of economic equity at the time the farmers’ market movement took hold in the 1970s. American incomes have stagnated since then, with four decades of losses in real wages and two recessions in the past ten years—which may provide some clue as to why access to local food markets is, especially since 2012, much diminished. This reality coincides with research from the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) affirming that, while there is still great demand for local food, much of the energy in farmers’ market and CSA growth, at least, has cooled off—even as institutional purchasing mores are shifting toward more local sourcing.

Specialty bakers and heirloom grains growers also face up against a specific economic issue: Government programs, including subsidies, skew the actual cost of goods. The average wholesale cost for commodity wheat flour in this country runs about 46 cents a pound; organic commodity wheat can be priced slightly higher, and regional and small grains production closer to $1 a pound, if not more for specialty cereals like spelt, einkorn, and emmer. Most of these growers also practice better-than-average soil care compared to commodity growers who, while coming around on the issue of soil health, have also relied on taxpayers to facilitate cleanup and pay for the environmental externalities of commodity grain production. While commodity flour at retail is cheaper than local or regional grain, its relative cheapness is misleading—the hidden costs of production can be found in our tax bills, if not always on the price tag in the store.

When it comes down to it, the issue of market expansion requires more than building capacity. Education and promotion will continue to be important, as will finding viable intersections between the grains movement and public health outreach groups, nutritionists, and food policy councils, who have all been helpful in gaining local foods leverage in school districts, prisons, and other public-sector agencies.

It will require the will of the whole community of growers, millers, bakers, and even eaters to generate and sustain good price points on foods made with local grains. Access is about many things beyond just putting more of a certain kind of food in front of people. Regional grain advocates could fold that reality into their existing efforts to build awareness around the regional grain-shed.

But before we lose ourselves entirely in building capacity for regional grains themselves, it is critical to take a step back and build capacity for small-scale entrepreneurs to access capital and eaters to purchase at the price points farmers, millers, and bakers require to survive.

It may not necessarily be the domain of bakeries to resolve the issue of affordability and access to their products.

In some places, that effort is already under way. New York City’s Hot Bread Kitchen, aside from abiding by the Greenmarket’s sourcing requirements, also runs job training and mentorship programs for its staff, primarily women bakers of immigrant status who want to develop their own enterprises. Maine Grains, the Skowhegan-based mill, has integrated vertically, creating opportunities for both farmers and bakers in economically depressed central Maine. It owns the mill, a bakery-cafe, and runs a seasonal farmers’ market to generate new opportunities for its community. And New York’s She Wolf Bakery, part of Andrew Tarlow’s restaurant group, is working to exceed the city’s soon-to-be $15 minimum, while also providing employee benefits ensure they have access to the quality of food they source and serve. Building social enterprises, ones that broaden the buy-in from a variety of different end-users—home and professional bakers, their families, and their communities—is the next logical step in bolstering advocates and users of regional grains.

Back at the Greenmarket, a group of school children comes to the stand, teacher in tow. “We’re buying rolled oats, to make oatmeal with apples and honey, all from the market—right everyone?” The students cry out enthusiastically. The connections they make with these foods today builds their connection with those foods later in life, nurturing eating habits, culinary skills, and an understanding of foodways in their orbit. It is part of the work of the regional grains movement, and local foods advocates in general, to make sure they will be able to afford it.

Disclosure: As a former market manager for GrowNYC’s Greenmarket Program, Stephen S. Wade helped manage the Regional Grains Project. 

Stephen S. Wade :