This month is the four year anniversary of our first scooter pop-up held at Fair Witness. We sold three hot burrito options to family and friends. From selling burritos out of my grandpa’s scooter to selling frozen burritos in more than forty Mom & Pops, Co–ops, and Coffee Shops across NC, we have experienced rapid growth. I have thought a lot about what it means to start and grow a business like this, and this anniversary is a perfect occasion to share some of those thoughts. 

We get positive feedback from customers constantly, and I love every single comment. A dad in Raleigh recently asked us to ship a box of burritos to his daughter in D.C. for her birthday because they’re her favorite and she can’t get them there, yet. We have fed families through pregnancies, medical residencies, birthdays, and so many other special occasions. I’m grateful that this family business has become a part of so many of your families’ dearest moments.

We have nine SKUs now, including salsas, and we’re making one thousand burritos each week. I’m building this company to be a trusted grocery brand, offering a lot more than frozen burritos, including items like frozen tamales and black bean burgers, baby food, and more. I’d like Robert Rust Foods to evoke the same love and loyalty as a brand like Neese’s (RIP), the beloved eighty year old sausage company. Neese’s was started right about the same time my grandpa bought the scooter and began selling hot dogs back in the late ‘40s. With another 76 years, I think we can get there.

We are still in a shared-use kitchen space (thank you, Enterprise Center), and we’re still working with a small staff. There are daily constraints in a small business that interrupt efficiencies and slow growth, but that’s part of the deal. I could take on debt or bring on an equity partner to speed things up, but that would change the dynamics and limit the company’s potential. I would rather grow slowly and deliberately, building a durable business that can feed our communities for many years.

We hold community dear, whether you’re here in Winston-Salem or elsewhere in North Carolina. I am building this company to be a member of your community: one that contributes to our health and happiness. 

Aldo Leopold’s Land Ethic is our guiding principle. It tells us that we are a member of the biotic community, including the soil, water, plants, and animals. His beautiful essays show reverence for the land and joy at being a part of it. 

When I graduated from Warren Wilson College, I received an Eastern Hemlock sapling along with my diploma. Every graduate receives a sapling as a reminder that we have to nurture the world around us. Now, I walk the public land next to my home every day, getting to know my neighbors. I recently found an Eastern Hemlock sapling. It’s a rare tree threatened by the invasive Woolly Adelgid, which kills Hemlock and Spruce by sucking their sap. The Hemlock was poking out from between pernicious Ligustrum, Amur Honeysuckle, and Autumn Olive, and in the shade of a towering Tree of Heaven. I cleared those plants to give it a little breathing room. I later found an active Bald-faced Hornet nest on my house. Luckily, the nest is in a low-traffic area and the aggressive hornets feed on  insects, so perhaps they’ll eat the Woolly Adelgid and help keep the Hemlock healthy. I’ll leave the nest until this winter when the brood dies.

Running a food business in a crowded, industrial market feels a lot like protecting that sapling. It requires constant, mindful intervention to make sure the things we care about don’t get choked out by systemic pressures. 

“A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.”

Aldo Leopold’s Land Ethic

Generations of environmentalists and business owners have translated this Land Ethic into business principles. After all, the economy is a subsystem of, and depends entirely on, the environment. As Robert Rust Foods grows, I am beginning to put these principles into practice.

I have learned patience and respect for seasonality as I tend my garden and walk in the woods each year. In a world obsessed with speed and productivity, we have forgotten about waste and quality. In the woods, there is no waste. How can I mimic nature and remove all waste? We already compost all food scraps, but can we make new products from things we don’t use, like drained pork fat? Can we update recipes to reduce or eliminate inputs? How can we turn a problem into an asset?

I get deep satisfaction each year as I learn more about the complex relationships in the woods, like the hornets and the hemlock. In terms of ecosystem services, our native species provide so much more than do invasives. With a little support, they can flourish. Small businesses are like that too.

I’m a member of the community, not an overseer or a profiteer. It guides how I make business decisions, like how we approach sourcing ingredients, the type of packaging we use, or our sales channels. It reframes the context in which we do business. We’re not competing for shelf space at big box stores, tirelessly chasing profit and sacrificing the land and ourselves in the process. We’re making high quality products that people love and we’re learning to do it in a way that preserves the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. 

This is what I call our Work Ethic. 

Working hard isn’t a work ethic. Sure, there are long days and long months, but I would characterize that as determination, or perseverance, or sometimes necessity. A work ethic is what you’re working for. To me, this business is a way to enrich our community, not a way to enrich myself. I believe that if I continue to build a company that makes great products, with a brand that means trust and integrity, one of the results will be a valuable asset in a few decades. But that’s not the reason I work.

Backpackers follow the ethic “Leave No Trace,” a beautiful guide for humans in the wilderness. But in places where we have already indelibly changed our environment, Leave No Trace isn’t enough. We need to actively manage and improve things. That’s why we manage most of our own distribution and logistics rather than outsourcing, because maintaining a true relationship with our 40+ retail partners across the region is part of our ecosystem. Our Work Ethic is why I work, and why I am building this company. It is a tool to improve the world around me in accordance with the Land Ethic.

With the Land Ethic and our Work Ethic in mind, I want to share a few upcoming projects. Over the next couple of years, I’ll work with Warren Wilson College students through senior capstones and internships to create a baseline data set for our environmental impact, prioritizing changes we can make, and creating a long term plan for improvement. 

We’re going to continue improving our products, including switching from Canola Oil to Avocado Oil. Canola is refined using hexane and there is some concern about seed oils in general. Avocado is refined mechanically and has a better fat profile. We have also updated our Vegan Nopal and Pulled Pork recipes to create less waste, and increase flavor. See if you can taste the difference next time you eat one.

We are increasing our self-distribution, using a solar powered enclosed trailer. We’ll distribute across NC for ourselves and other local companies making great products. This is a big one that will take some time, but it will pay dividends because I’ll be able to manage more of our interactions with retailers and their customers.

Building this business feels similar to nurturing that Eastern Hemlock. I get the privilege of learning about the complex web of economic interactions in which it lives, and I get to do my best to ensure it grows strong and tall. The Hemlock is a foundation species, one that defines the entire ecosystem around it. Over 90 species of birds rely on the Hemlock to live. If I do my job well, one day Robert Rust Foods may be a foundation business to our community.

Thanks for trusting us to feed your family.

Adrian