Dating, Dairy, & German Burritos - The Saskatchewan Hutterite

From the day I departed on this Cross-Canada culinary road trip, I knew I wanted to end up in a Hutterite kitchen. I didn’t just want to show up, bang on the door, ask to buy some pies, and take a photo of the vegetable stand. However I did try cold calling a couple of colonies and both times I was told through a thick German accent, “No we don’t want to buy any of that”, followed by immediate silence and the end of the call.

 I wanted in the front door, I wanted inside the barn, and I wanted to be able to get my hands dirty in the kitchen. I needed to know the secrets of the Hutterite kitchen and why the food always tasted like it was meant to fuel Demeter, the goddess of agriculture. I knew someone would need to give me an introduction to build that bridge of trust required to stroll across and into the Hutterite kitchen.

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 In my world, often timing is and isn’t everything; departing from the Fehr residence that sunny morning, they had made some phone calls on my behalf. A friend of theirs had called a friend of theirs and I had been instructed to show up at the Swift Current Hutterite Colony, tell them who I was, and the rest would take care of itself. I was literally on my way out the door headed to Regina and the call had come in, unbelievable timing, or so I thought.

I arrived at the entrance to the Colony knowing the GoPro strapped to my helmet might not be the best way to greet a society that isn’t known for its social media presence and decided to take it off after I parked. I was quickly intercepted by a man in a side by side who’d come whipping around the corner and headed to a workshop in the yard. Chris was sporting the trademark attire of the prairie Hutterite. Black work pants, suspenders over a plaid shirt, and a dark ball cap. I could have guessed his heritage in a crowd of a million without him saying a word.

I told Chris who I was and why I was there. I was half expecting my name to be on a list somewhere that had been pre-screened to get me inside. Chris said he’d never heard of me and told me that today was a holiday for them. Due to this holiday, most everyone had the day off and Chris himself didn’t have much going on and was happy to show me around. Camera gear in hand, I hopped into the side by side and we headed down to the dairy barn. I asked if I could take photos and record any of what we were doing, he said sure and if there was anything I shouldn’t be taking photos of he would let me know. He even let me clip a microphone to his shirt.

I explained I was hoping to get to know Hutterite culture better and learn a recipe or two. Chris said he’d give me a tour of the barn, take me up to the kitchen later and see if the ladies would talk to me. 

Now despite growing up in Alberta, I know next to nothing about farming or oil production; I was thinking that what I was going to see inside the dairy barn was going to be similar to what I had seen about dairy farming when I was a kid. You find the cow, you grab a chair, you milk it, and try to avoid getting kicked in the face before moving on to the next one. When filling an insulated tanker truck every day with milk, this is not how the operation goes. Inside was a first-class self-milking operation.

Chris shows me the computerized milking machine that runs on a rewards system. Each cow has a sensor in its ear that monitors when it was last milked, how much milk it produced, and its overall health. The machine won’t allow the cow to be milked if it reaches its daily production limit. In short, the cow walks up to a gate, the computer scans the ear tag, if its allowed to be milked the gate opens, the cow makes its way into the stall where a little cow treat is waiting, then the milking machine hooks itself up to the tits, starts milking and when the milking is done and the treat is gone, the cow leaves and the next one comes in. I could not believe my eyes, the cows were actually milking themselves!

We stroll around the barn and Chris stops as one cow comes lumbering over for a scratch on the nose. He says this cow is a problem cow, as if it was given a bit too much attention as a calf and thinks it’s now a family pet. Whenever a person comes into the barn the cow comes over like a lapdog seeking attention. I think to myself perhaps they could teach her to fetch, roll over, and maybe call her Milkshake 🙂 If you didn’t laugh at that lame joke, don’t worry, Chris doesn’t laugh at my next one either.

For the most part, dairy cows are black and white, but one anomaly stands out from the crowd. If I recall correctly it was somehow bred with a Red Angus and is a rich brown color. I look at Chris and ask if this cow produces chocolate milk. He cringes and forces a half smile, as if to say he’s heard that terrible joke so many times he’s going to start avoiding this side of the barn with people like me.

I’m dying to get to the kitchen to see what they’re doing with the abundance of dairy they produce and other farm favorites they have. Chris says he’ll take me up to the onsite butcher shop on the way to the main kitchen and show me where they keep some of the prepped foods. He’s a lot easier to talk to than I was expecting so I start to unload a round of my usual seemingly dumb questions on him.

Me: Where do you go to school and what do you learn?
Chris: We have classrooms on site and regular teachers that would teach in any school. They come in and teach a standard curriculum. Once we get to grade 10 or 11 the colony makes some suggestions about what we should study in college based on what they need for workers; you can either choose to go or not.

Me: You work here every day, do you earn a wage?
Chris: I make $30/month, and you can actually do quite a lot with that money. The colony provides you with all the basics and we do get goodies, but if you want something personal you’ll need to use your own money. We can also earn a wage after our regular work is done. Some guys work off the colony in the evenings, others hunt and sell furs, and sometimes people tip $5-$10 when we do tours like this…there are lots of ways to earn extra money.

Me: What do you do for fun?
Chris: I love fishing, actually I fish all the time.


    Chris pulls out a cell phone and shows me photos of some stunning fish he’d caught. I looked at him like I looked at the robot cow milking system when we walked in. “Wait” I say, “You have a cell phone?” Chris laughs and says “Yes, most people here have a cell phone. We have the internet too. A lot of colonies don't and we don’t brag about it when they are here, but this colony is pretty modern.” 

    We leave the dairy barn and zip up the hill to the prep kitchen. He explains that due to the potential spread of the avian flu, we are not allowed in the chicken or goose barn. Up to this point, I still haven’t seen another person. The butcher shop is more like a warehouse, inside are some large walk-in coolers filled with canned goods, bags of carrots, watermelon and there is even a 30 foot long table piled high with fresh rhubarb. My guess is that it’s going to become hundreds of delicious rhubarb pies.

We jump back in the side-by-side and Chris takes me on a farm tour and even invites me back to see some of the houses they are building. The new houses are cement cast, bi-level, row housing with great views over the prairies and the one we look at is about 50% finished. 

I ask Chris how they decide who gets what house. He says that if you were planning to get married, you would tell the colony six months in advance and they would look to see what options are available; aiming to have something ready for you to move in once you're married. As Chris wasn’t married and still pretty young, he still lived with his parents. This leads nicely into a question I have been wanting to know for years. How do you meet a wife?

Chris says there are often different things going on at various colonies and if you want to get out and explore, the colony will provide you with a vehicle, a fuel card, and allow you to go out to socialize. At one of these outings, you may or may not find a wife. On top of that, people are always out visiting relatives at other colonies and while you might meet a wife here, he quickly points out you would not be looking for a wife amongst your own relatives; meeting anyone suitable for marriage is a total fluke. 

Finally, he agrees to take me up to the main kitchen as the ladies are likely doing some preparations at this time of day. I can literally feel my internal excitement building. I can smell the freshly baked Hutterite Brötchen (Hutterite Buns), I can taste the Buckwheat sausages frying on the grill, and I can feel the sugar rush from a sweet Zucker Pie. 

Despite parting from a mid-morning Faspa just before getting here, I can’t wait to sink my hands into some Hutterite meal prep in a kitchen teaming with ladies whose lives have revolved around traditional German farm recipes. I want to stuff myself senseless with farm-fresh recipes and fill my bags with preserved goods before heading East. Chris is looking at me a bit oddly as I go off on a little tangent about my excitement to get into the kitchen. As we roll up to the front door, I start to ramble off some of my cooking experience as if to impress the guy and let him know I’m no novice, forgetting that no male Hutterite wants to be seen donning an apron in the kitchen. As the door opens, I catch a sneak peek of some of the dozens of workers starting to materialize. They are all wearing classic floral print dresses with pastel-colored aprons over them. 

I start to eye up the team, one, two, three, four. Hmm, that’s interesting, four cooks, where’s the rest of the team? Actually I don’t see anyone lined up for lunch either. There are only six of us in the entire building and I’m starting to think that maybe it’s still early? Ohh well, let's see what kind of magic is being handcrafted today. 

Hi ladies, my name is Kix and I’m currently riding my dirt bike across Canada looking to discover the cultures and cuisines that make up Canada. I know the Hutterites are known to have some of the most amazing food in the country. What are you making today?

The kitchen matriarch gives me a curious grin, another looks at my camera, then looks at Chirs as if to say, You didn’t tell him? Then from across the stainless steel prep table a lady looks at me and says. “Today we are making takeout burritos! It’s Ascension Day, a religious holiday and everyone is at home, so we are making something simple they can just pick up and go.”

The buildup to this mental moment had been decades in the making and suddenly my excitement has been drained like the last drop of milk from the tit of Milkshake. What I thought was impeccable timing for a VIP tour, was actually the only day of the month when absolutely no one was going to be interested in cooking anything in the kitchen.  

I opted to make the most of it and while the ladies wrapped beef and cheese with store-bought tortillas, I asked them for the female perspective of life on the farm.

Everyone seems more than happy to talk to me and the ladies explain that they do weekly rotations with other cooks. Each day starts at 5 am and they make all three meals for that day. The cooks can come up with their own recipes but the majority of the knowledge is passed down from their mothers as well as a head cook who oversees everything. 

Eager to get their perspective on relationships I ask them about dating and marriage. The ladies explain what marriage looks like in the colony and note that tradition states that the female moves to wherever the male is from. In having this conversation with them I learn that one of the ladies is moving to Montana soon. She says she’s pretty sad about leaving her friends and family, but “You marry the man you love I guess, and it all works out in the end.”

I ask if dating is a thing, “Do you date different people?” Everyone laughs a little and they tell me that you can date different people but usually, you don't date a lot of different people. You typically meet one person and that's that. However, “It’s all about your happiness”. 

With my relationship inquiries answered and my food questions still a mystery, I knew I’d need to get myself into another colony before exiting the prairies, because no one was itching to hear about a German burrito sponsored by Casa Mendoza.