LOS OJOS, New Mexico - At one time, says local lore, this county shipped more lamb than anywhere else in the world.

These days the flocks in the Chama River Valley are counted in the hundreds rather than the thousands, and New Mexico is only the sixth-largest producer of lamb in the United States. The United States Department of Agriculture has released figures showing that domestic lamb production is at an all-time low, down 13 percent over just one year. The average American now eats more than 27 kilograms of beef annually, but consumption of lamb is just over 2 kilograms per person.

The competition to supply that lamb is stiff, especially from Australia and New Zealand, where inexpensive lamb racks are essentially a byproduct of the vast and profitable wool industry.

“We will never be able to compete with them on price,” said Brent Walter, an owner of Fox Fire Farm who raises about 2,000 lambs each year just across the border in Ignacio, Colorado.

Antonio Manzanares and his wife are the only producers of certified-organic lamb in New Mexico, and among the only ranchers in the United States who still graze sheep on wild land.

Many families like the Manzanareses are descended from Spanish settlers who began ranching here in the 1600s. Even the characteristic sheep of the region, the light-boned, longhaired Navajo-Churros, are said to have arrived here with Francisco Vasquez de Coronado in 1540.

“People here still consider themselves ranchers, but they can’t make a living at it,” Mr. Manzanares said at his 81-hectare ranch.

He and his wife, Molly, 51, are trying to change that. Under the label Shepherd’s Lamb, they raise a flock of about 900 ewes, both the Navajo- Churros and the fatter Rambouillet breed.

Mr. Manzanares, 59, grew up here, and has spent the last 30 years trying to figure out what a modern, sustainable family ranch might look like.

Like his ancestors, he tends his sheep daily, breeds them annually and worries about them constantly. He and Mrs. Manzanares tend the sheep themselves from birth to slaughter, and as organic farmers, their options for healing a sick sheep or feeding a hungry one in winter are limited: no antibiotics, careful nursing and a little organic grain.

To eke out a profit, Mr. Manzanares also spends much time on the road and online: driving to farmers’ markets, delivering to restaurants, doing paperwork for organic certification and nagging his Web masters to streamline the ordering system.

He saves some of his less marketable cuts for the local Navajo Indians. Over centuries, the tribe has incorporated the Churro sheep into its theology and daily life, using the long, soft belly fibers for blankets. The meat is flavorful and lean, he said.

In Australia and New Zealand, lambs are slaughtered young so that the flavor of the meat does not get too strong, but many cooks find the texture limp and the fat too wet to roast. Typically wet-aged in Cryovac on its journey to American markets, the lamb tends to be soft and spongy.

By contrast, the taste of pasturegrazed lamb is clean and meaty, with a firm texture. In many parts of the world, lambs are bred with an eye to getting the most fat onto their tails, considered the most sublime morsel.

Brian Knox, the chef and owner of Aqua Santa in Santa Fe, cures the lamb he buys from Mr. Manzanares overnight in salt, juniper and cumin before braising it for six hours and mixing it with rapini, chicken stock and leeks. He said that only this meat matches his ideal for lamb: herbal, earthy yet ethereal. “The terroir of what the animal eats really comes through in this meat,” he said.

In the spring, Manzanares sheep eat shoots of wheat, grass and sand dropseed. Later, on the summer range, the lambs eat yarrow, snowberry, Arizona fescue and mountain mahogany. All the shrubs around the ranch are nibbled down to chin height.

In early May, the Manzanareses will escort the bred ewes, horses, dogs and assorted equipment to the lambing grounds west of Taos. During June, the ewes and lambs make their way about 50 kilometers cross country to summer pasture in the mountains above Canjilon, where they live all summer with guard dogs and a shepherd.

At the end of the summer, the whole band is trailed back to low country, where the lambs are weaned. After a couple of months the ewes are bred, and the cycle begins again.

“I just hope we can keep it going, you know?” Mr. Manzanares said.


By JULIA MOSKIN