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What are we, exactly?

BS Weekly #13

That’s the question I keep circling after Mount Vernon. Are we a specialty crop, or are we bait for big ag? Because those are two very different futures, and American elderberry is standing right at the fork.

This June the national elderberry community gathered in Mount Vernon, Missouri. The Heartland American Elderberry Collaborative brought our poster. LIONBERRY REGENERATIVE™ stood alongside Elder Farms and River Hills Harvest. Dr. Andrew Thomas hosted, Buehler Organics and Elder Farms put on a dinner, and researchers, growers, and processors all ended up at the same tables. Good food, good people, real momentum.

But here’s the edge I can’t put down. The moment a crop gets valuable, the commodity machine notices. It comes in offering scale and efficiency, and it leaves behind growers who no longer own anything, working someone else’s market for someone else’s margin. We’ve watched it happen to crop after crop. The question isn’t whether American elderberry is worth that much attention. It’s whether we’ll be the ones holding it when it is.

So why does this crop matter enough to fight over? The science is finally catching up to what growers always sensed. American elderberry is anti-inflammatory in a way that speaks straight to how most of us actually live now, carrying oxidative stress from overprocessed food. And it’s stepping into the GLP-1 and metabolic-recovery moment, where early results on blood sugar and fat oxidation are turning heads. Our native berry isn’t the understudy to European Sambucus nigra either. The American acylated anthocyanin is more protected, more likely to survive processing and reach where it’s meant to work. We are not the lesser version. We are the better one, and we’re only now saying it out loud.

That’s exactly why the fork matters. A crop this promising will get built into a market by somebody. The only question is whose hands stay on it.

Here’s where I land, and where Mount Vernon left me hopeful. We are small, and small is not the weakness everyone assumes. Small means we can actually know each other. It means a grower, a researcher, and a brand can sit at one dinner table and leave understanding each other’s language. That’s how an AgriCluster works. We stick together, we grow the grower base on our own terms, and we build the shared story before anyone builds it for us. We’re standing on fertile ground here, in the dark, underground, where the real trading happens before anything shows on the surface.

More growers, yes. But growers who own it. That’s the whole game.

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Past Business Weekly's:

Fortifying the Heartland: My Christmas Wish for Hy-Vee.

Lionberry 's Weekly Delusion and Re-illusion Update.

This week’s delusion is pretending our grocery stores don’t have a weak point.

This week’s re-illusion is remembering that strength comes from building on what already works, not acting like we’re starting from scratch.

Hy-Vee does a really good job bringing in local barbecue sauces, jams, honey, and other value-added foods from the Heartland.

We’re not starting from zero.

But we are starting from small.

So I handed Santa a LionBerry and gave him my Christmas list:

A fortified Hy-Vee — one that expands the Heartland section that already exists into a full, accessible, stocked-every-day aisle for local foods.

Not to replace the global or national imports like Florida oranges, California almonds, Mexico avocados, pineapple juice from Thailand, or coastal produce —

but to stand beside them, so the region isn’t left vulnerable the next time anything shakes the system:

  • fuel shortages
  • war
  • trucking strikes
  • geopolitics
  • water shortages
  • drought or dust-bowl conditions
  • port disruptions
  • cyber hits
  • natural disasters

Any one of these can break a supply chain.

A fortified regional shelf — built from the farms around Kansas, Missouri, and Nebraska — keeps us fed.

The World Cup is coming to Kansas City.

Soccer tourists from Germany, Brazil, Japan, everywhere — living in Airbnbs for three to six weeks, shopping at Hy-Vee for everything from breakfast to body soap.

If we went to Germany, we’d want Wienerschnitzel.

If we went to Brazil, we’d want feijoada.

If we went to Japan, we’d want ramen or sushi that actually tastes like Japan.

So when they come to the Heartland, they don’t want a New York hot dog or a California cheeseburger.

They want us — the real Midwest.

What do we grow and make here?

  • local barbecue sauces
  • local fruit like blueberries
  • corn tortillas, tomato sauces, and beans
  • wheat pastas and breads
  • value-added soaps made from beef tallow
  • local meat, dairy, and eggs
  • elderberry drinks

And soccer tourists staying in AirBnB’s need actual essentials:

  • dish soap
  • cleaning agents
  • body soap and hygiene products
  • breakfast foods
  • snacks
  • drinks
  • basics
  • dinners

This is exactly why a stronger Heartland aisle matters — not just for crisis, but for culture, tourism, and everyday life.

This week’s delusion is pretending our grocery stores don’t have a weak point.
This week’s re-illusion is remembering that strength comes from building on what already works, not acting like we’re starting from scratch.

Hy-Vee does a really good job bringing in local barbecue sauces, jams, honey, and other value-added foods from the Heartland.
We’re not starting from zero.
But we are starting from small.

So I handed Santa a LionBerry and gave him my Christmas list:

A fortified Hy-Vee — one that expands the Heartland section that already exists into a full, accessible, stocked-every-day aisle for local foods.

Not to replace the global or national imports like Florida oranges, California almonds, Mexico avocados, pineapple juice from Thailand, or coastal produce —
but to stand beside them, so the region isn’t left vulnerable the next time anything shakes the system:

  • fuel shortages
  • war
  • trucking strikes
  • geopolitics
  • water shortages
  • drought or dust-bowl conditions
  • port disruptions
  • cyber hits
  • natural disasters

Any one of these can break a supply chain.
A fortified regional shelf — built from the farms around Kansas, Missouri, and Nebraska — keeps us fed.

The World Cup is coming to Kansas City.
Soccer tourists from Germany, Brazil, Japan, everywhere — living in Airbnbs for three to six weeks, shopping at Hy-Vee for everything from breakfast to body soap.

If we went to Germany, we’d want Wienerschnitzel.
If we went to Brazil, we’d want feijoada.
If we went to Japan, we’d want ramen or sushi that actually tastes like Japan.

So when they come to the Heartland, they don’t want a New York hot dog or a California cheeseburger.
They want us — the real Midwest.

What do we grow and make here?

  • local barbecue sauces
  • local fruit like blueberries
  • corn tortillas, tomato sauces, and beans
  • wheat pastas and breads
  • value-added soaps made from beef tallow
  • local meat, dairy, and eggs
  • elderberry drinks

And soccer tourists staying in Airbnbs need actual essentials:

  • dish soap
  • cleaning agents
  • body soap and hygiene products
  • breakfast foods
  • snacks
  • drinks
  • basics
  • dinners

This is exactly why a stronger Heartland aisle matters — not just for crisis, but for culture, tourism, and everyday life.

A shared warehouse, a shared distributor, and a unified block of local makers would let regional foods move with the same efficiency as national brands — while staying rooted right here.

Tourists will buy it.
Locals will keep it.
And if anything ever shakes the world, a fortified Hy-Vee keeps the Heartland standing.

That’s what I told Santa.
That’s my wish this year.
And that’s exactly what LionBerry is built to help do — bottle by bottle, aisle by aisle.