Our Story

How Five Wild Texans Came to Be

Rick's grandfather farmed. Maggie's grandparents had a homestead. Neither of us grew up with dirt under our fingernails the way they did — but we grew up knowing what real food tasted like, and knowing that something had been lost along the way. For years we lived the way most families do. Rick served this country. We raised three kids — Ryan, Christopher, and Mackenzie. Life was full and fast and mostly, honestly, too far from the land.

Then we found 22 acres in Anna, Texas. And something clicked. In 2018 we started Five Wild Texans Farm — named for the five of us, because this has always been a family operation, not a business plan. Every Steele works this land. Every Steele has a stake in what we grow and how we grow it.

We're not trying to reinvent farming. We're trying to do what our grandparents did — raise animals with care, grow honest food, and sell it directly to the people who are going to feed it to their children. Our cattle are born and raised right here on this property. Our hens range on this pasture every single day. We hand-process our broilers ourselves, right here on the farm. We know every animal we raise, and we stand behind every product we sell.

We don't do everything alone, and we're proud of the partners we've chosen. Our Cornish Cross broiler chicks come from Benjamin Davis at Windy Meadows Hatchery — a small operation we trust completely. When it's time to process our cattle, we work with Blue Bonnet in Trenton, TX — a USDA-inspected facility we've chosen because they share our standards. Good farming is also knowing when to trust good people.

We started serving our neighbors in Anna and Collin County. We still do — and always will. But we're growing, and more and more families across the North Dallas area are finding us. Many of our customers are Muslim families who trust us to provide Halal-processed poultry. Serving that community well is something we take seriously, and we're glad they found us.

We want you to feel like you found a friend. Someone whose farm you can visit, whose number you can text, and whose food you can trust completely. That's the farm we're trying to be — and we think our grandparents would recognize it.