How to Build a Temple for Holsteins

Back in 1979, the herd numbered 71 head; today, it has grown to 1,100. The farm owns 900 acres of pasture and leases another 800. Milking equipment is supplied by Westfalia and IBA. Since 2001, the Crave brothers have also operated a cheese plant and are now among the leading cheese producers in the U.S., distributing products nationwide, fr om New York to Los Angeles. In October 2009, U.S. Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack visited the farm. DairyNews extends gratitude to the Holstein Association USA for their assistance in preparing this material.

Mark, there are four of you brothers! How do you “divide” the business among yourselves?

Each of us has our own responsibilities. I focus on marketing, the herd, everything related to animal care, as well as the workforce that supports it. When our farm was small, my brothers and I worked side by side, all together handling crops, livestock, feeding — it was true teamwork. As the farm grew, it became impossible to continue that way. So we decided to divide responsibilities and later began hiring staff.

Now, each of us has a very tight schedule, and once a week we set aside two hours to discuss the key issues facing our farm — money, construction, long-term challenges. These “board meetings” allow us to align, but otherwise, each brother is fully accountable for his area. After the meeting, we return to our responsibilities and do everything we can to achieve the best results.

When we started, we were about 18 years old. We were poor, had no long-term plan, and certainly didn’t imagine achieving what we have today. We simply worked, planning day by day what needed to be done in the moment.

For example, when we needed to expand, we bought average cows with average performance to build up the herd. Soon we noticed a huge difference between our existing animals and the new ones. That’s when we launched an embryo transfer program — moving embryos from our best cows to those with lower performance, raising the overall quality of the herd.

Our farm wasn’t inherited; my brothers and I purchased it when we were very young. Many of the changes we made came from our own needs. We started the business to make a living and to reach personal goals. Initially, expansion wasn’t about ambition — it was about survival. In 1979 we had 71 cows; we needed more to earn enough money. Over time, we began exploring potential: how much can this cow really give — 5 liters or 50? I thought: “I wake up at 4 a.m. every day to milk this cow — shouldn’t she give 20 liters to make it worth my effort?”

Of course, not every cow could deliver that, but we stayed focused on improving results. Today, the farm is well-equipped — but you must understand, this took 30 years of work, investment, and commitment. Visitors often say that every time they come, they see something new on the farm.

In Russia, many of the areas you describe — crops, herd management, processing — are usually separate businesses. How did you manage to integrate them under one goal?

As I said, you need a system wh ere everything works together. If crops fail, I won’t have proper feed. If calves are weak and die, I won’t have herd reproduction — and no future. For our farm, weakness in any area is unacceptable.

For example, when we grow corn, we don’t think of it as just corn — we think of it as animal feed. As a leader, it’s my job to show the team these connections and keep everyone aligned.

There’s a parable that reflects our approach: three men are building with bricks. The first says, “I’m laying bricks.” The second says, “I’m building a wall.” The third says, “I’m building a temple.” They’re doing the same work, but their sense of purpose is very different.

That’s the leader’s role — ensuring everyone sees the vision. On our farm, people who refuse teamwork don’t stay. We set a direction and expect the team to follow it. That’s how we work — calves, feed, cheese, cows — all as one team.

Yes, low prices were certainly a factor, as well as the seasonality of milk prices. Think about it: building a farm means going to the bank, taking on loans, and committing to repayments. When costs rise and milk prices fall, the risk is enormous.

So stability became essential. For us, the goal wasn’t just making an extra dollar — it was securing consistent cash flow to keep the business running and meet our obligations to staff, creditors, and ourselves. Cheese provided that consistency, insulating us fr om market swings.

For my brothers and me, this business is a marathon, not a sprint.

About 80%.

Yes. For example, fresh mozzarella sells better in summer. That’s why we diversify production across cheese varieties.

We work with two companies. And this is a critical issue: I can always make cheese — good cheese — but I also have to sell it. With milk, there’s always a guaranteed buyer. With cheese, no such guarantee exists. Without proper marketing, it risks ending up in the trash. That makes cheese a much riskier business for us.

In the U.S., processors with agreements are obligated to buy milk. It’s federally regulated. Processors must hold licenses, and to obtain them they need to prove financial capacity to buy milk.

But here’s the catch: when it comes time to pay, processors sometimes claim they’re out of funds. So yes, they guarantee the purchase — but not the price.

I don’t know (laughs). I work with cows.

Roughly the national average — about $12 per hundredweight, or $0.26 per liter. On our farm, production costs are about $0.35 per liter (October 2009 data).

Yes. This is the toughest time in my career for the U.S. dairy business.

Exactly.

Very little. We don’t get milk production subsidies, only occasional tax returns tied to construction projects. For example, I normally pay about 30% of my income in federal taxes. Last year, after completing our cheese plant, we recovered around 5% — a one-time payment.

Yes, but slowly. Farmers constantly discuss two main reasons. First, farming involves heavy commitments — buildings, herd expansion, technology. Stopping is difficult. Second, modern technology actually boosts productivity, whether we want it or not. Even in this crisis year, our farm’s productivity is higher than last year.

Not at the moment. Right now, our herd is about 1,100 cows. Before expanding further, we want to maximize efficiency with what we already have.

That program wasn’t government-led. It was run by farmers themselves — including us — who had invested during good times. When milk prices collapsed, the organization failed, and debts were settled with cows that ended up at McDonald’s. Situations like this cause conflict between farmer groups and government agencies. For example, one agency tells us to pasture cows, while environmental laws require housing them indoors.

All of them, through the Holstein Association program. About 80% are Holsteins with 50–100% pedigrees. Roughly 25% of the herd has a full pedigree.

The biggest advantage is access to information. I know every animal in my herd and can compare it with any registered cow in the U.S. It’s like building a football team — you sel ect the best fr om dozens of candidates. With data on genetics, milk yield, protein, fat — I can make the best breeding decisions.

For instance, one of our cows with 85% pedigree took second place at the World Dairy Expo. That raised her market value from $1,300 to $25,000. Without pedigree, she’d never command that price. That’s why we register all calves, not just show animals.

It varies by age and sex. For example, registering a calf is about $8. That certificate, along with herd quality, raises the animal’s value to $15,000–$20,000. Without pedigree, prices are much lower.

For me, the exact percentage isn’t as important as performance. But higher pedigree does provide more data, which is useful when making decisions. Especially for international buyers who can’t visit in person — documents matter greatly.

We produce milk suitable for soft and fresh cheeses. With Holstein cows, we have high-quality milk and excellent cooling systems, so we focus on fresh products like mozzarella.

That’s wh ere bulls matter. Holstein Association catalogs provide detailed data on sires. By choosing the right bull, I can breed cows that give milk suited to specific cheese types. For example, on my farm I use a bull named Jeeves for improving cheese milk quality.

I’m not sure, but I know Americans love talking about tractors, horsepower, and acres. Those things matter, but results depend on management. Two identical tractors can deliver very different outcomes on different farms. Same with cows.

What matters most is constant learning. I travel, attend expos, read journals, and always ask myself: “If I were a cow, what would make me healthier and more productive?” That’s my daily job — observing, analyzing, and improving.

Decision-making systems are key. And constant learning. Many businesspeople want to stay in the office, write a perfect plan, and stick to it no matter what. But farming doesn’t work that way. What looks good on paper often fails in the barn or in the field.

Our success comes from staying connected to reality — cows, crops, cheese production — and sharing information daily. That’s how my brothers and I make progress together.