NORTHFIELD, MINN. -- Pity the chicken in winter. Squeezed into dark, dusty, rank-smelling quarters with barely enough room to move, it is truly a "cooped up" creature.
Unless it happens to live at the five-star poultry palace on Reginaldo Haslett-Marroquin's farm. This spacious, solar-heated "hoop house" has a high, translucent-plastic ceiling through which golden light pours. It smells not of ammonia from poop, but sweet, clean hay.
The sleek fowl living here -- about 100 hens and four busy roosters -- strut, crow, take flying leaps off bales of barley and peck flax-rich organic feed. When they feel an egg coming on, they flutter into the more private, insulated roosting annex to take care of business.
"They produce about 70 eggs a day, pretty good for this time of year," said Haslett-Marroquin. "They're just chickens being allowed to act like chickens. When you turn an animal into a machine, it destroys not only the natural cycle but our health."
One day, these heritage Rhode Island Reds, Buckeyes, white Plymouth Rocks and Black Javas will be eaten, and their superior lifestyle will translate into more nutritious drumsticks. A high-flax diet means they're full of the healthy Omega 3 fatty acids missing from factory-farmed broilers.
For now, though, they're just a bunch of lucky little cluckers in hen heaven.
Humane treatment of animals is important to Haslett-Marroquin, but it's hardly his primary goal. It's just one spoke on the wheel of a grand symbiotic experiment that factors in sustainable farming, energy conservation, self-sufficiency for low-income immigrants and healthier food for everyone.
What comes first? The chickens. And their eggs.