When L&S Artisan Meats began, it wasn’t structured as an employer. It was a small, evolving farm trying to find its footing.

In the early years, we hosted volunteers through Workaway, a platform Lindsay was already familiar with before arriving at the farm. Over five years, more than 200 volunteers from six continents and ranging from 18 to 65 years old came to live and work here.

Those years were dynamic. People arrived eager to learn about permaculture, animal husbandry, sustainable farming, and meat processing. In return, they brought fresh perspectives, global experiences, and constant energy. We were teachers, but we were also students.

However, as the farm grew more complex, a hard truth became clear: it wasn’t sustainable to rebuild the knowledge base every two to four weeks. Continuity matters when you’re refining systems year after year.

About nine years ago, we made a pivotal decision, we hired our first employee, Geovanny, whose family is from the indigenous community of Imantag, just 15 minutes from the farm, and who we’ve known since buying the farm in 2009.

The farm itself sits on the edge of La Calera and near San Martín, communities where employment opportunities are often limited. Many residents travel two hours to Quito to support their families or rely on informal work that doesn’t provide stable wages, health care, or retirement benefits.

As we added employees over time, we began to understand something important:

One of the most meaningful impacts we could have wasn’t just environmental. It was economic and relational.

Today, L&S employs eight full-time team members, all from neighboring communities, and we rotate in part-time workers as needed. The skills developed here are not basic or temporary. Our team learns detailed animal husbandry systems, meat processing techniques, food safety standards, logistics, distribution, and the rhythm of a vertically integrated farm.

These are transferable, marketable skills, learned without leaving home.

But the exchange is mutual.

Our children are growing up immersed in a culture far older and richer than we could teach them ourselves. They move naturally between English and Spanish and hear enough Quichua daily to understand and speak simple phrases. They are learning respect for tradition, family structures, and a worldview different from our own.

We feel accepted here. Protected. Included.

We were not born into these communities, and we still have much to learn. But building relationships through steady employment and shared daily work has woven us into something larger than a business.

Yes, we raise animals.
Yes, we produce and distribute meat across Ecuador.

But we also create local opportunity.
We invest in neighboring families.
We participate in the long-term stability of the place we call home.

We feed our community in more ways than one.

And that may be the most important work we do.