The emu, alongside the kangaroo, sits at the heart of our national coat of arms. In the 1990s, just as the industry prepared for take-off, Australians showed an aversion to chowing down on one of their national symbols. Matters weren't helped by an ineffectual co-op - Emu Industry Australia - that did little to shift public perceptions, secure markets or support the fledgling industry. Then the bird flu hit, decimating the industry almost overnight. In Australia alone, the number of emu farms plummeted from 500 to just a handful of stubborn stalwarts.
One of the faithful who refused to give up on the emu dream is Ian Marston. Ian's 25-year emu journey began when he purchased his 40-hectare farm, Marrocka, at The Rock, 30 kilometres from Wagga Wagga. Quicky realising he'd never make a fortune rearing conventional livestock on a modest holding with marginal rainfall, Ian looked for an alternative. As a serviceman in the Australian Army, Ian saw a niche opportunity to provide feathers to members of the Armoured Corps who adorn their slouch hats with emu plumes. The more Ian investigated emus, the more he became convinced that farming the world's second largest bird could be a winner. When it came to uses, sustainability and best practice agriculture, the emu ticked every box.
Our native ratite has had thousands of years to become perfectly adapted to this land of drought and flooding rains
Our native ratite has had thousands of years to become perfectly adapted to this land of drought and flooding rains. "During periods of prolonged dry," Ian explains, "female birds will intuitively adjust laying rates in accordance with upcoming feed supply levels and, as infrequent drinkers, emus can go weeks without water."
Farmed emus are generally fed via feeders and supplement their diet by grazing on acacia, casuarina and native grasses. They also dine happily on bugs, grasshoppers and moths. And as far as climate goes, they'll tolerate extreme temperatures.
Although the emu's hardiness and adaptability are worthy attributes, it was the lure of its many products - particularly meat - that helped create the great emu investment stampede in the 1990s. Despite our historical aversion to dining on our emblematic bird, a few of Australia's remaining emu farmers have since been leading a quiet crusade to shift public taste. Ian has been working with local butcher Tim Driscoll to develop various cuts and products for markets such as sausages and kebabs. "It tastes like good rump, just a little more gamey," Ian enthuses. "And bang for your buck, it's leaner, healthier and more affordable than beef and lamb."
"It tastes like good rump, just a little more gamey," Ian enthuses. "And bang for your buck, it's leaner, healthier and more affordable than beef and lamb."
While demand for emu meat is at last gathering momentum, it's also rising for other emu products. Farmers are now struggling to meet buyer demand for eggs. High in protein and weighing the equivalent of eight chicken eggs, emu eggs are proving popular with families, bodybuilders and adventurous chefs. Ian sells around 300 blown eggs each year, many of which are purchased by local Wiradjuri artists who carve and paint the eggs for sale in galleries. Feathers are also used to make jewellery and ceremonial items. "We help the Wiradjuri and other groups source cultural materials like eggs and feathers," explains Ian, "and they are helping us understand the deeper cultural value of the emu. In the case of our farm, emus are definitely doing their bit towards reconciliation and healing."