Shawn is one of those people who will make you laugh until your stomach hurts. He will also make your stomach hurt because you want to eat everything he cooks. It is absolutely no surprise that Shawn now owns a farm-to-freezer pizza company. He started Poco Pizza in a renovated tool shed on his parents’ dairy farm, and it took off immediately. Most of the ingredients for his pizzas come from his own farm, including the chickens and pigs he raises, the honey from his own bee hives, the vegetables from his garden, or from local farmers, like the cherries from Door County that go on his cherry cheesecake flatbread, or the organic broccoli that goes on his chicken broccoli alfredo pizza.
My girlfriends and I traveled to the middle of nowhere Wisconsin because we wanted Shawn to cook for us, but we walked away with an education in farm and food practices and about 900 new cow friends (also, cheese curds). Shawn is so knowledgeable about food and flavor, he was asked to give a TED talk for TEDxFondduLac. The passion with which Shawn speaks of his work and his food is so contagious, he is an inspiration. We should all hope to feel as excited about our work as he is.
Here’s Shawn on being a business owner, farm practices, food flavor, and eating animals in order to save them (controversial, I’m sure, but worth thinking about). I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
I grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin. And although that might sound a bit cliché, I was actually the only person in my high school class who lived on a farm.
I resented it. I wanted to live where there were neighbors and streetlights and sidewalks and people. So I spent most of my young adult life fleeing the farm. I went to school in Green Bay, then moved to Boston for grad school, and eventually San Diego for a career in television production. I was living out my dream, but I wasn’t happy. The sidewalks and streetlights and people weren’t all they were cracked up to be. I had become a pretty good cook in my 20s, and I found myself cooking for hours after work to relieve stress. Eventually I bit the bullet and packed up and moved back to the farm I once resented so that I could attend culinary school. It changed my life. I was living back on the farm that I once viewed as nothing more than monotonous labor. But instead of milking cows, feeding calves, baling hay and wishing for a life full of neighbors and sidewalks, I was growing food. And I was loving it. It took another few years after finishing culinary school before I figured out a way to turn this newfound love of growing food into a job.
My parents and brother still ran a large dairy farm, but they had this small room attached to a shed for their machinery that just wasn’t being used. So I asked if they would let me get that room licensed as a commercial kitchen so I could grow, prepare, and sell some type of food. They said sure, but were doubtful of any possible success since we lived in a town of about 300 people.
One year later I am proud to say I am the owner of Poco Pizza. A farm to freezer business operating on our family farm. I grow as many ingredients as I possibly can for a line of seasonal frozen pizzas that I sell online and in a small storefront on the farm. The fact that I don’t have a restroom here means the county won’t allow me to hire any employees. So currently I am putting out about 900 pizzas a week, with standing orders waiting about 3 weeks right now. The reception by the local community has been unbelievable, and when I am greeted by people who have traveled over 6 hours one way to pick up a bunch of pizzas, I am nearly brought to tears by the fact that people are starving for farm-fresh products in this region. It’s humbling, to say the least.
Tell me about the background of your company. How did it come to be? How did you decide on your business model?
About 3 years ago I went to Italy. I spent some time on a farm in Tuscany learning about food and wine and a better way of living. When you spend time in a place that cherishes its food and relishes in a mealtime that expands 3 hours — it changes you. I left Italy a different person. I remember watching the cooks and hearing them guide the younger cooks with one word. Poco. It means “a little bit” in Italian. But in the Tuscany region, this wasn’t just a word but an entire approach to food. They would whisper “poco, poco” as a young cook salted a dish. Or “poco” as they tore basil over some fresh pasta. It was a message that said “we have some of the best ingredients in the world — you don’t need to do much to them for it to be delicious on a plate!” When I came back to Wisconsin after that trip I realized I was growing food every bit as delicious as my friends in Tuscany. And I change how I cooked — training myself to forget half of what I learned in culinary school. Less truly became more. And that’s when this idea for a wood fired pizza restaurant was born. I would call it Poco Pizza. It didn’t take me long to line up financing, but as this little idea grew bigger and more people were involved I decided it was more appropriate for me to start the right kind of business alone. No employees. No overhead. No one telling me what I should be doing. Just me and the food on the farm. So when I asked the county if I could license that small room on our family farm to cook and sell food, they told me “sure. But frozen food only.” And immediately I knew Poco Pizza would still be a thing. Under ice.
There was no light switch moment. It really was this strange thing that seemed to develop all on its own. Even now I don’t feel like I’m in control of it. It feels like this living breathing thing that is telling me what it needs to thrive. And I listen and throw my plans out the window and give it what it wants. This business isn’t at all what I intended to create. It’s so much better. And it changes by the week. By the day. It’s so much more than I envisioned, and I feel like the customers are now behind the wheel — taking it where it needs to go. It’s the strangest sensation to bring something into the world and realize that it’s no longer yours. It belongs to everyone.
What barriers did you face when opening your company?
I live in a very conservative area. The licensing bodies were/are uncomfortable with the idea that I am growing the ingredients I use. They prefer a buffer between the end user and the grower of food. Whereas I spent the last year trying to remove everyone in between. I was told “no” almost every day for 6 months while I was trying to license this business. There was always apprehension, the dragging of feet, or something else keeping the county from licensing my little room as a commercial kitchen. I was told “We are used to walking through an Applebee’s with a check list. This is way outside what we’re used to” by the county. So it took a long time, and a level of persistence I didn’t think I was capable of. I also had to study the law to a degree I didn’t think I was capable of. It was a very challenging process. I just kept telling myself “if it was easy, everyone would own a business.”
This is still the greatest deterrent for farmers wanting to start food businesses. The county health inspectors across the country are predominantly baby boomers who oversaw the expansion of chain restaurants and commercial food production. So small farm kitchens like mine are a scary throwback to a time they all thought was behind them. And after speaking with state senators and assemblymen and assemblywomen, I know this is an uphill battle.
I just kept telling myself, if it was easy, everyone would own a business.
When I first contacted the state with my plan, after learning I could only be licensed for frozen food, they informed me that the part of the state I live in is considered a “culinary dead zone”. Nothing lasts other than a buffet or food business that can show really high value — aka HUGE portions for a low price. So I was very concerned that my neighbors and fellow members of the community wouldn’t see any value in a $13 frozen pizza from my family’s farm. A couple weeks before I started my 9 year old niece asked me “who the heck is going to come way out here for a frozen pizza?!” And all I could do was say, “I don’t know.”
The reception was massive and it was immediate. I sold over 500 pizzas within 8 hours of opening my doors. And the business has only grown exponentially. Every week I have more orders than the week before. It was instantaneous. I am no longer afraid for the business. But my fear has moved more toward the “how am I going to get all of this done alone?” mindset. It is a TON of work. I average 20 hours of steady work every day. It isn’t necessarily sustainable, but as I watch my little farm-to-freezer business surpass my highest hopes, I can’t help but work harder and with more enthusiasm.
What kind of supports did you have in starting the company?
I feel like I didn’t hit a home run here. I feel like I was born on 3rd base and I’m simply running to home. I bought everything I needed to start this business with money I saved and with a couple credit cards. I didn’t take out any loans, and I didn’t borrow a cent from any friends or family. However, the room here on the farm was already here. If I was trying to start this business from scratch, that would have easily been 90% of my startup costs. Also the land where I grow all of my animals and produce was free to me when I was first starting. It was just folded into the everyday work here on the family farm.
However, the idea, the brand, the recipes, the website and marketing is all me. 100%. I had about $13,000 set aside to start this business, and it took all of that and a couple credit cards to get the ball rolling. I had budgeted $10,000 for initial startup expenses. But weeks turn into months and a full batch of ingredients is used up in testing. So it was more expensive than I thought, but I always come back to the fact that the facility was 90% of the equation and that part was already up and waiting for me.
How have past experiences helped with your current goals?
I was lucky to have had a background in marketing. I taught social media and marketing courses for a couple colleges over the years, so those experiences are directly responsible for my success thus far. In the early days of my young business 100% of my customers found me through Facebook. It was a free platform for me to use, and I knew my target demographic was there. So it just worked so well. And continues to drive a lot of my business.
What’s your general daily schedule like?
I typically wake up around 7. I brush my teeth and run outside to the kitchen. I make coffee first. Then I answer emails, Facebook messages, and try to plan out my day. Then it starts. I get deliveries from local farms, I try to prep as many ingredients as quickly as possible, and then I run to feed and water the pigs, check on the garden, and then back up to the house, shower and change, then bag up my delivery orders and head out to get everyone their pizzas (I deliver frozen pizzas. A ton of them.) Then I usually get back to the farm around 4. I finish prepping ingredients then try to make about 100-150 pizzas that night. It typically takes until 2 or 3 before I’m done with that day’s quantity. Then I sleep a few hours and do the exact same thing the next day. Saturdays, when the store on the farm is open from 10-6, are actually my easiest days. I usually just stay up all night Friday night making pizzas. Then I bag up orders, deep clean the entire kitchen to get ready for the day’s customers, then I shower/shave and I’m in the store ready for customers by 10 am. I also have a steady stream of fresh-baked, homemade cookies going all day as a ‘thank you’ to everyone who walks in. (author’s note: yes, I remember. We ate them all.) I make the cookie dough during the week, portion out dough balls, and have them frozen for me to grab and bake as needed throughout the day.
I struggle most with the fact that the majority of what I do is alone. I listen to like 13 hours total of podcasts every day, but still. It gets lonely for someone like me who is wired to be social. So I love my delivery days when I can get out and see a bunch of fun people. It’s unbelievably hard to go an entire week just working without anyone to talk with.
What are your wishes/vision for the future of your company?
I am just now at a place where I am able to spend some time focused on “Phase 2”. I said from the beginning that I have some big goals in store and this venture is my pizza fundraiser. I wanted to see if there really is a market in this region for food directly from our farm. And now that I know the demand is high, it’s just a matter of figuring out how I want to direct the focus. The frozen food thing started out as a necessity. That’s what my license said I could do. But now, after an unbelievably successful year, I am left wondering where to go next. Do I keep a focus on the frozen food/delivery game? Do I expand from pizzas to include farm-to-freezer pot pies, burritos, pastas, and more? Or do I go back to one of my earlier goals of reviving that old style of farm — the one that really only exists as that cute little red barn in the picture on your box of butter… A farm where folks can pop out for a good farm-to-table meal and drink some good local beer. I’m at a bit of a crossroads with the next step.
You grew up on your family’s farm. Growing up, did you have an awareness about food like you do now?
When I was a kid food was work. I didn’t see it as growing food even. I just saw it as picking weeds, picking stones, and just lots of labor. It was just something we did— growing our own food— but it wasn’t something I was proud of. Now I am so proud of the way I grew up. I understand how lucky I was to have the best tasting food at my fingertips all year round. The work seems less like labor now, and more purposeful.
On his TED talk
It’s about how industrialized commercial food production has done an unbelievably awesome job at being able to feed the world. In 200 years we’ve gone from 1 billion people on Earth to nearly 8 Billion. And somehow we’ve figured out a way to feed almost everybody. It’s unbelievable. In addition to that fact, we are also only paying about 10% of our income on food, vs 18% in 1920. We are paying less for food than ever before because the ways in which we grow it are more efficient than ever. Over the years disease resistance, yield, uniformity, and shelf life became the priority for food growers. Flavor paid the price. So my talk is about that and what we can do to combat the core issue of bland food.
You want animals to live a happy life in a natural environment? But you also want to pay only $3 for a gallon of milk? Well, you can’t have it both ways.
You said something interesting on our tour. You said, the consumers decide how farmers farm. Farmers are making things cheaply, because that’s what consumers are buying. But, what is the solution? Has farming just gotten too big that we can’t go back? What can we do about food production?
This is a much bigger question about economics. Is it all just a race to the bottom? I don’t really have the answers here. But I do know that the food world is consumer driven. Farms are not zoos. We can’t afford to raise animals or plants that aren’t going to make us money. It’s our job. And in the end no one becomes a farmer because they want to be rich, but it’s important to all of us to be able to earn enough to keep a roof over our heads. And I know how people shop. I know that when it comes to milk, very few people are attached to a specific farm or a specific brand. Most customers walk through a grocery store and simply grab the absolute cheapest alternative. And if that’s who we shop then it truly is a race to the bottom. We have to raise more animals on less land and they need to produce more for us to keep living like that. And it’s wholly unsustainable. At some point the welfare of the animal and the farmer needs to be taken into consideration. I think the real key is to pay more for higher quality from nearby farms. I know most farmers would be thrilled to raise an animal or fruits and vegetables to your standards, but it has to be able to make them a living. If we all just keep strolling through a sterile grocery store grabbing whatever is cheapest in an era where we are already using less of our take-home pay for food than ever before… well then things just aren’t going to change. You want animals to live a happy life in a natural environment? But you also want to pay only $3 for a gallon of milk? Well you can’t have it both ways.
On buying and raising piglets:
She’s a Mulefoot. An old, critically endangered, heritage breed of pig that doesn’t have a cloven hoof. There are very few left in existence. She’s a lard pig–lots of back fat, and unbelievable marbling throughout the meat. You know pork as being a somewhat dry, white, blank slate. Like chicken breasts. It got this way because in the early 1900s we, as a country, became fearful of fat. So we created pigs without it, that were able to grow to slaughter weight in months, eating almost exclusively corn. The meat from this heritage breed is deep red, and cooks pink and juicy, studded with fat, and it tastes how pork used to. It goes against logic, but to save them you have to eat them. And then get other people to want to eat them.
Do you ever get sick of eating pizza?
I have NEVER gotten sick of pizza. But my ingredients are so wholesome and clean and pure that sometimes I crave something truly bad for me. I was recently busted at the grocery store by someone who recognized me from a newspaper article. I had 2 $2 frozen pizzas in my hands from a brand that will not be named. They couldn’t believe I was buying “garbage”. But sometimes… especially if I’m nursing a hangover… I just wanted something bad for me. And the truth is my pizzas aren’t bad for me. So I have to go buy one of the crap cardboard ones … to get my fix.
Shawn, I love you. You are amazing and I’m so happy that your food and your words are out in the world. I love how your business is such a mix of organic growth, destiny, passion, knowledge, and hard work. If you’re in Wisconsin, please support this business! The rest of us will just have to wait…sigh.
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