Blog

I’m often asked, having an uncommon occupation, what my day to day is like. I usually answer with a quip about putting out fires, or I say, “they vary.” In describing a particularly memorable day below, I hope to offer some wisdom, or at the very least some commiseration for farmers, small business owners, and entrepreneurs. Its taken me awhile to get around to writing this, but I’ve pieced the day back together from notes on my phone, text messages, and memory. It’s accurate and not embellished- scout's honor! Friday Oct 22nd, 2021. 4:30 am I met an employee at...

  In this post, we answer a couple of common questions, address a national and international meat policy and labeling issue, take a few jabs at the industry, and quote a mentor and a poet. We’ve broken this meandering journey into a Q and A to make it more digestible. Hope you enjoy- please email Marshall@homeplacepastures.com for any questions or follow up discussions!  What’s the history of the Home Place? The Bartletts have farmed the Home Place for a living for 5 generations, dating back to 1871.  Marshall Bartlett moved back to the farm and founded HPP in 2014. Before...

    Last Sunday, my fiance Katie and I packed up and headed down from Memphis to stay with my parents on the farm. We make this commute six days a week, but we try not to on Sunday. We made an exception to our “Sunday rule” to make sure we wouldn’t get stranded away from our livestock if road conditions had already deteriorated by Monday morning. This decision certainly proved to be a good one: 5 days later, we’re still here! This week has been dangerous, scary, and unprecedented for millions across the southeast, and we are grateful that...

At around 3:00 am, the pork shoulders slid off of the small metal rack they were perched upon, and tumbled into the bottom of Mike Bartlett’s homemade smoker. It was a rotisserie-style cooker Marshall’s father brought to life from old cotton gin parts decades before, and we were using it in the 2018 Memphis in May BBQ competition. After three days of non-stop cooking and tending to the fire, our dreams of BBQ Fest domination came crashing down. The pork shoulders were all lying in a pile at the bottom of the smoker. I took facefulls of smoke while fishing...