A New Kind of Agribusiness Is Taking Root

I have eaten/the plums

that were in/the icebox

and which/you were probably

saving/for breakfast

Forgive me/they were delicious

so sweet/and so cold

--William Carlos Williams

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When he wrote that verse years ago, poet Williams may not have thought to ask: And who grew those plums?

These days it would not be so unusual to inquire. Or to receive more of an answer than you expect.

Why, those plums were grown by a young couple we know who live on the frontage road just outside town. Those plums came from an orchard where we have strolled on a summer afternoon, where our children played in the soil. They grew without the addition of any chemicals. They were harvested, ripe, over the weekend and delivered here Monday. Today is Tuesday and, yes, they are so very sweet. Bon appetit.

For the same reason Americans want to choose their own physician, and pick their neighborhood car mechanic, they are now selecting their family farmer and signing up with a local rancher.

They pay in advance, or perhaps are billed periodically, and they collect a basket of vegetables and fruits once a week, or a dozen eggs and two chickens, or a month’s supply of fresh beef. They are eating succulent tomatoes from private seed stock, or sampling six different colors of heirloom new potatoes. They are eating fresh and organic, and with greater variety than they ever imagined.

And many are wandering out to “their” farm to visit on the weekend, to show their children the source of their food, to connect to old rhythms of the land.

For their part, farmers receive up-front capital via advance payment and enjoy the rewards of marketing their produce to people they know and who appreciate their labors.

“This is the most optimistic thing going on in American agriculture today,” says Lynn Bycznski, a small-scale Lawrence, Kan., farmer and publisher of the farmers newsletter, “Growing for Market.”

She and her husband farm 2 acres, and in a collective with six other farmers, feed 350 families with a bag of vegetables each week from spring to fall. The food is distributed at three locations, two in Kansas City and one in Lawrence, at a natural food store behind the deli counter. “Members” of this CSA, an acronym for community-supported agriculture, pay $11 per week.

According to those trying to follow this trend, the idea for CSAs was imported in the mid-1980s from Japan, where 200,000 people now eat food supplied by their communities.

Five years ago, Bycznski guesses, there were about 200 American farmers supplying customers directly through various CSA-style arrangements. This year, she estimates, there are 700 to 800 such small farms--usually in greenbelts near urban areas.

The number of poultry and meat raisers is much smaller, just more than a handful, owing to logistics and government health regulation. But these numbers are said to be increasing.

The trend of signing up with a family farmer is a response to several things: foremost, a concern for ultra-fresh, healthy food. At a local supermarket, it is possible to choose from nine different brands of toilet paper. But vegetables, fruits and meats are almost all generic--impossible to say how this food was raised, where and with what chemicals, when it was harvested and how it’s been stored and handled.

“Yes, you’ve got your personal doctor and your personal dentist. But isn’t the person who grows your food the most important relationship of all?” Bycznski asks.

Those who sign up with a personal farmer report other benefits. The variety of diet often expands dramatically. Successful CSA farmers must provide a wide range of foodstuffs to keep members interested. This includes some exotics, but usually specialty, or heirloom, varieties of ordinary commodities--such as yellow Finn new potatoes with skins so delicate they rub off in your hand.

Customers eat according to the season. Instead of shopping for ingredients to match a recipe, they look for recipes to match what is fresh: Perhaps a little balsamic vinegar over this week’s gently steamed beet tops.

CSA farmers increasingly are encouraging members to visit, bring the kids.

“It’s usually not why people join, but soon they start coming out. People in the city feel a little lost in the natural world. They are looking for connections,” says Judith Redmond of Full Belly Farm in Guinda, Calif., north of Sacramento.

This 100-acre spread feeds 500 families, most of them in Berkeley and Oakland. Another 150 families have their names on a waiting list. On a recent open-house weekend, 70 people drove out to Full Belly to enjoy the outdoors, sit by the creek, help with chores, gaze at their ripening food.

According to Weyland Southon, program coordinator for CSA-West, there were only two such registered farms in California in 1990. Today, there are 70. Just three, however, are located in Southern California, Southon said.

Because of this shortage, CSA-West held a conference in Los Angeles earlier this year. About 1,500 people attended, and Southon said he expected a dozen more farmers in the region to begin CSA programs by 1998.

CSA-West acts as a clearinghouse for farmers and consumers. It can be reached at Box 363, Davis, CA 95617.

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Direct From the Field

Here is what members of Full Belly Farm in Guinda, Calif., might expect in their shopping bag this week:

* 1 bunch (1 lb.) baby beets with tops suitable for cooking.

* 1 head of overwintered shogun variety broccoli

* 1 bunch (1 1/2 lbs.) Nantes variety carrots

* 1 bunch young cilantro

* 1 head cauliflower, Yukon variety, white and self-blanched

* 1 bunch heirloom red Russian kale

* 1 head of French summer crisp lettuce, a variety something between romaine and iceberg

* 1 Stockton red spring onion

* 1 lb. yellow Finn new potatoes