Sourcing Map & Seasons
Every farm linked to Fenridge Pasture Meats sits within a landscape shaped by wind, clay, and water. The sourcing map we keep isn’t a marketing graphic — it’s a working reference that changes with grass growth, grazing rights, and field rotation. When customers open a weekly list, they are seeing that map translated into boxes: a reflection of what the ground and the farmers could reasonably produce in that stretch of weather.
Our main belt runs across central Lincolnshire, where open fens give way to heavier upland pastures. Each partner farm contributes something slightly different. Lowland holdings focus on beef herds that graze slowly through marsh grass; hill edges support hardy sheep that trim coarse sward without feed additives. Pigs root through mixed cover crops behind them, turning over soil before the next seed drill. It’s an informal rotation that restores the fields while producing genuine variety.
Seasonality guides everything. Early spring brings lighter boxes with more mince and slow stewing cuts while animals regain weight from winter feed. By midsummer, grass-fed beef develops richer marbling, and lambs reach ideal condition for roasting joints. Autumn adds fattier pork and preserved goods — sausages, bacon, and small-cured hams — timed for colder storage. Winter focuses on practical freezer cuts and stock bones, using what remains before the cycle resets.
We keep no central feedlot. Each farm handles its own finishing, and abattoir slots are booked only when stock is ready. That rhythm prevents the “all year” illusion common in supermarket meat. Instead, buyers learn to expect natural variation: one week offers sirloin and ribeye, another swaps them for brisket and shin. Recipes follow that shift, encouraging people to cook around the landscape rather than force it to behave like a factory.
Mapping helps coordination but also honesty. Farmers share their upcoming field notes, noting which pastures have recovered and which still rest. Those details feed into our internal sourcing map, visible only to the team, and they become the quiet structure behind the customer list. When we say a box is “from fenland pasture,” that statement has a grid reference, not just a label.
Transport between farms stays short — rarely more than an hour — and chilled transfer to the Lincoln hub happens twice a week. By keeping the route compact, we avoid unnecessary stress and fuel use. The map may look simple on paper, but it holds years of trust and adjustment: knowing which lane floods first, which bridge freezes, which farmer finishes earlier in the week.
Seasonal sourcing is not a romantic idea; it’s practical logistics that protect soil and supply at the same time. The map keeps us grounded, literally. Each arrow, each colour mark on that paper chart, shows how Lincolnshire’s farmland still works when left to its own sense of time — slower, steadier, and quietly productive.