New Ohio regulations spark backlash from farmers who say their future is on the line

In a recent episode of his Yanasa TV channel, host Charlie Rankin paints a dark picture of what’s happening to small farmers in parts of Ohio.

In his telling, the state’s health departments, zoning boards, and local governments are not “helping agriculture” like they claim.

Instead, Rankin argues, they’re punishing the very ingenuity that keeps small farms alive.

He focuses especially on the suburbs around Cincinnati, where he says washing lettuce, pouring a glass of farm wine, or selling a loaf of bread can suddenly turn a family farm into a supposed lawbreaker.

And his message is simple: this isn’t just about paperwork.

It’s about whether small farms can survive at all.

Lettuce Washing As A Crime Scene

Rankin opens with a blunt line: the government seems to like farmers right up until the moment a farmer figures out how to make money.

That, he says, is where the trouble usually starts.

He begins with The Farm on Central in Warren County, which he describes as a “private membership farm” where neighbors join, learn what they’re buying, and purchase eggs, bread, lettuce, and other foods directly from the family.

To Rankin, it’s almost a Norman Rockwell scene.

Local families, local food, and a direct relationship between grower and consumer.

But then, as he tells it, the local health authorities showed up and saw something very different.

They saw “licensable activity.”

According to Rankin, the trigger was shockingly simple: the farm was washing its lettuce before selling it.

He explains that once you rinse a leaf, Ohio regulators stop seeing it as an agricultural product and start treating it like a retail food operation.

From there, Rankin says, the farm was hit with a temporary restraining order and told to stop selling food until they obtained a retail food license.

All for rinsing lettuce and selling cinnamon rolls.

From his point of view, that’s not “food safety.”

That’s a system that can’t tell the difference between a family farm and a supermarket deli.

Farm Stands Treated Like Illegal Retail

Rankin then moves to Cincy Urban Farm in Sharonville, another example he says shows how far local authorities are willing to go.

He describes it as a simple urban farm with a self-serve stand and an honor box.

Neighbors drop in, pick up fresh produce, leave their payment, and go on with their day. It’s exactly the kind of small-scale, neighborhood food source many people say they want.

But as Rankin tells it, the city ordered the stand shut down.

Officials claimed the farm was operating “retail in a non-retail zone,” even though the tomatoes were grown right there on the property.

When the owners appealed and argued that this was a farm market protected under state law, Rankin says the city brushed that aside.

He notes that officials reportedly decided it “looked” more like a retail shop than a farm stand, and that was enough for them.

Rankin mocks this logic as a new kind of crime: “being organized.”

From his perspective, having a clean, tidy stand with an honor box somehow makes you less of a farm and more of a zoning violation.

If you step back, his larger point is that the line between “farm” and “retail” is being drawn visually and bureaucratically, not by common sense.

Wineries, Zoning Boards, And “Not Agricultural Enough”

Rankin then shifts to Butler County, which he says is one of the fastest-growing counties in Ohio.

He describes new development, rising tax values, and growing pressure on long-time farmers.

In that context, he highlights Seven Mile Winery (often called 7M Winery), a grape-growing operation that wanted to build a barn with a tasting room.

Rankin points to an important Ohio Supreme Court precedent, Terry v. Sperry, which held that wineries are agriculture and are protected under state agricultural laws when they’re genuinely producing wine from their own crops.

But according to Rankin, some neighbors complained, and the town of Wayne stepped in.

He says the town issued a stop-work order and declared that the operation was “not agricultural enough.”

In his words, these officials were essentially saying, “You grow the grapes, you crush the grapes, you bottle the grapes… but you’re not a farmer here.”

Rankin’s view is that the real “problem” wasn’t zoning or safety – it was that the winery had found a profitable model in a growing county.

He argues that once a farm becomes sustainable, some local boards suddenly decide it’s no longer farming.

It’s “commercial,” and therefore unwelcome.

That’s where his frustration really shows: he sees a system that accepts corporate food shipped in from far away, but slams the brakes on local producers the moment they start thriving.

Century Farms Versus Suburban Growth

The story that finally pushed Rankin to make this video, he says, is Garver (Garber) Family Farm Market, another farm in Butler County.

This is a century-old farm, and Rankin notes that newer municipalities seem to be targeting farms like this just as development creeps closer.

According to his report, the Garver family grows produce and grapes, makes wine, and recently built a beautiful farm market with a deli and bakery.

They serve morning coffee, sell baked goods, and showcase their own farm products to help people see how fresh food can fit into everyday life.

Rankin describes it as the kind of place locals feel proud of – a symbol of their county’s history and identity.

But he says Butler County officials showed up and declared that what the Garvers were doing was no longer “agriculture.”

Instead, they labeled it – in Rankin’s telling – a commercial operation that can’t exist under the current zoning.

He points out the irony: agriculture is a commercial business.

Farmers are supposed to sell what they grow. They’re supposed to make money.

From Rankin’s point of view, the message seems to be, “If you’re a farm losing money, you’re a farm. If you’ve figured out how to survive, you’re a code violation.”

He compares the treatment of Garver’s grapes—grown 50 feet from the register—to bananas imported from Ecuador and sold at a big-box grocer.

The imported fruit is fine.

The local grapes are a problem.

That, he says, is “seriously backwards.”

Outdated Laws And The War On Ingenuity

To be fair, Rankin does acknowledge that Ohio’s health and zoning codes were written in the 1950s.

Back then, there was a sharp line between a farm operation and a retail store.

You either grew commodities or you ran a shop.

There wasn’t much overlap.

But today, he argues, that model doesn’t work.

Modern family farms have to be creative – hosting agritourism events, selling baked goods, adding farm markets and tasting rooms – to keep ahead of rising property taxes and slow-moving crop prices.

Without that creativity, Rankin says bluntly, “most family farms simply will not make it.”

That’s not theory to him.

He says he sees it “every single day.”

From his perspective, when local governments punish that creativity—by calling it illegal retail, unlicensed food service, or improper zoning—they’re not just enforcing rules.

They’re weakening local food security.

He reminds viewers how, during the pandemic, many people turned to local farms and stands when grocery store shelves were empty.

Those same farms, he says, are now being treated like threats.

Agritourism Abroad, Crackdowns At Home

Rankin also contrasts Ohio’s approach with what he says happened in Great Britain after World War II.

According to his retelling, Britain recognized that it needed strong, healthy farms to protect food security.

So instead of burying farmers in rules, he says the government actively promoted agritourism.

They organized trips to farms, encouraged producers to sell cheese, yogurt, sourdough, and other farm-made products directly to visitors, and used tourism to boost farm income.

The point, Rankin says, was to keep farmers economically stable and preserve national food security.

In his view, Ohio is doing the exact opposite.

He jokes that if you followed that British model in Ohio – inviting people out to farms to buy homemade foods – you’d be accused of running unlicensed food service.

He pushes the idea further: “Don’t wash that lettuce before you sell it. Just yank the carrot out of the dirt and hand it over, or you might need a lawyer.”

Behind the sarcasm, his criticism is clear.

Instead of encouraging farms to diversify and connect with consumers, he believes Ohio’s system is treating these efforts as something suspicious.

Food Freedom And Private Relationships Under Fire

Rankin then digs into a bigger issue: private membership farms and private food relationships.

He says more farmers have been forming private membership associations, where customers agree to join and knowingly purchase food directly from a farm under a private agreement.

Farmers argue that these are private relationships between informed adults.

It’s not the same as anonymous, walk-in public retail.

But Rankin says Ohio regulators have made it clear that, in their eyes, public or private doesn’t matter.

If you sell food, you’re regulated.

He quotes the attitude as: “We regulate you either way.”

His complaint isn’t that safety rules exist.

It’s that health agencies seem to have plenty of time to chase small private associations while, in his view, mass-produced foods in grocery stores face constant recalls.

He asks whether these agencies are really focusing their efforts where the biggest risks are.

From a common-sense standpoint, Rankin argues, if two consenting adults want to buy and sell food directly – with full knowledge of how it’s made – they should be allowed to.

He reminds viewers that freedom always carries some risk.

That’s true at a local farm, and it’s also true every time you roll a cart down a supermarket aisle.

“Stand Up For The Right To Wash Lettuce Without A Lawyer”

As Rankin wraps up, his message broadens out beyond Ohio.

He says the American farm was built on self-reliance, not permits.

If small farms are treated like criminals every time they innovate, he warns that we’ll end up with “nothing but subdivisions, imported grocery stores, and egos in the microwave.”

In his view, the food freedom movement is not some trendy slogan.

It’s about survival – having the right to choose where your food comes from, who you buy it from, and what kind of system you want to support.

Rankin calls for Ohio to update its 1950s-era laws, recognize modern farm realities, and stop penalizing farmers for staying alive financially.

And he leaves viewers with a simple, almost ridiculous-sounding rallying cry that actually sums up his whole argument:

Stand up for the farmers who feed us.

Stand up for the freedom to choose your food.

And yes – stand up for the basic, common-sense right to wash lettuce without needing a lawyer.