Community-Supported Agriculture = Agriculture-Supported Community
It's not just about the vegetables.
Our CSA farmer was told in May 2022 that her lease would not be renewed, and she needed to be off the property by October 2022. The loss of this farm is much more significant than simply losing a place to get seasonal, local produce.
For those of you who need some background information:
CSA stands for “Community-Supported Agriculture”. There are different models, but the essence of it is, usually in the fall, sometimes in the spring, members purchase a “share” of what will be produced on the farm during the growing season. During the winter, the farmer uses those funds to make repairs to equipment, plan the next year’s crops, purchase seeds, fertilizer, etc., and supplement their income (Many farmers also work at least part-time at other jobs, particularly during the dormant season).
I remember the day we joined our CSA, even though it has been 15 years. After reading an article in our local paper about an historical property being bought by some local philanthropists, and their intention to turn it into a farm that would be a CSA, I alerted my husband that I was writing a check and taking it over there.
I was possibly over-excited, because I had been trying to find a new CSA, after my previous attempt at joining one nearby did not go well. It was poorly managed, badly maintained, and there was no sense of community and “getting to know” the farmer, or being part of a sustainable solution to the many problems with long-distance food.
When I arrived at the farm, 5 minutes from my home, I wandered around a bit to see if anyone was there, and found two women sitting on the tailgate of a truck, enjoying a picnic lunch. I assumed they were the farmers. (I realize how all of this sounds as I write it.) I got my enthusiasm in check, and slowly approached them, with an embarrassed little wave and a smile. I was half-right; one of the two women was indeed the farmer, and as it turned out, I recognized her last name. Her parents were both in town politics for quite a while, and they also had a small farm near the edge of town. Once we all got over our initial confusion and introductions were made, I handed her the check, we shook hands, and a new connection was made.
What a different experience. The farm was a source of pride to the farmer. It was clear it was a working farm, not a destination or attraction, but she kept the weeds at bay and the plants healthy and properly supported and irrigated. The farm stand was tidy and always well-stocked on share pickup days. The crops we were invited to pick ourselves were easily accessible and clearly marked. In this way, she created an atmosphere of calm, gentle energy, a quiet busyness, and the farm became something all the CSA members could be proud of, too.
Each year, the CSA changed a little bit, as a new field was planted, a new vegetable was offered, or a new service was started. Some experiments were more successful than others. The first year there was a member potluck, to celebrate the end of the first harvest. Barn dances and farm-to-table dinners were held, as fundraisers for local organizations. Chickens (and their eggs) were a lot more work than they were worth. Root vegetables were challenging to grow in the rocky New England soil. The pick-your-own flower field was a colorful respite at the height of summer, attracting butterflies and bees. With patience and persistence, she made the CSA more successful each year.
Then, the farmer and her mother started a goat dairy farm, and goats were added to our CSA visits. Adding goats to the farm was a delight for their company, as well as their milk and cheese. Each spring, an open house was offered so we could come meet the new baby goats, and each week, when it was time to pick up our share, we could visit the goats who were out in large pens behind the farm stand. Goats are very friendly animals, curious and gregarious, always interested in having their noses gently scratched as they looked into our eyes, almost like dogs do.
One thing no one had any control over were the changes in weather that climate change brought to New England. Summers have gotten hotter and hotter, and drier and drier. These last two years have been especially difficult as the well on the farm ran dry each day before all the crops could be watered, and tough choices had to be made, in order to provide vegetable shares to a growing membership. At one point during a severe drought, rather than drip irrigating each entire row, she and her staff had to water each plant, one at a time, until there was no water left each day, and then the well would have to be allowed to replenish overnight. Sometimes it didn’t catch up. There was talk of bringing in water, like other area farmers, but the cost of that would have to be absorbed by raising the price of farm shares, and she was reluctant to do that.
Our farmer did not own the land she was farming, or the historic farm house she was living in on the farm. She “leased” it, on a handshake, from the local philanthropists who bought the property to save it from development. She repeatedly tried to get something more permanent in place, but the owners refused. This agreement held up until the owners decided they wanted to do “something else” with the farm property. What that “something else” is remains to be seen. So far, it looks like they intend to plant hay in some of the fields, and there is talk of some kind of educational farm or day camp. But the owners are not farmers.
This really stings, because 15 years ago, the owners were hailed as town heroes, who had done something wonderful to preserve the rural character of the town, and the historical importance of the farm. While this may still technically be true, what they want to do on the farm will not make up for what has been taken away. I don’t think they understand what the town has lost due to this decision. So far, it doesn't seem as if they care.
We’ve lost more than a local source for seasonal produce. As the CSA grew, we became a community. We shared recipes, tips for using unfamiliar vegetables, and ways to preserve the abundance so it would be available in the winter, and not go to waste. Then we began to share stories and pictures of our children, our grandchildren, our families. Our lives were intertwined, bound together by the farm. The town, as well as the CSA membership community, has lost something important and vital, that can’t be restored, because the owners don’t understand it.
Our farmer created more than a farm. There was a vibe there, that people couldn’t help but feel, and comment on, a peaceful contentment that flowed through the place on the breezes that blew through the barn doors and farm stand windows. You could drop in to collect your share and scurry home, or you could sit down and stay awhile, soaking in that peace and contentment. You could mull over current events with other members, the farm stand managers, and the farmer, when she wasn’t out in the field. Truth be told, she preferred it out there, and I know why. She found her peace out there, able to see the results of all her hard work and creativity spread out all around her, from the high seat of the tractor she was able to purchase because of her success. Now her hard work and community-building and success have been erased. I couldn’t let that happen without telling someone about it. So I’m telling you.
What I’m Cooking/Eating:
-Holiday baking has commenced. Check out my Instagram, @closertohomecooking and my blog, closertohomecooking.com, for photos and recipes. This means I am eating at least one piece/portion/slice of each baked good for quality control, and I am also doing a non-trivial amount of “licking the beaters”, as my mom would say. It never sounded suggestive when she said it…
What I’m Reading:
-Alicia Kennedy (no relation): I highly recommend this newsletter, and am a paid subscriber. Alicia’s writing is full of personal experience and insight, and she makes some excellent arguments for eating more plants and less (no) animal products. Here’s a link to an essay that I particularly enjoyed while writing this story:
-Illianna Maisonet: I highly recommend, and have a paid subscription to, this newsletter as well. Illianna’s writing is direct and thought-provoking, and her perspective is much needed in the food writing space. Heck, it’s much needed in general. This essay is a perfect example of her deftness at weaving all the threads of a story together to create the complete picture of a food, a place, and the people whose fates are intertwined with them.
111-year-old Japanese Farm And Its Hoshigaki...
What I’m Learning About:
-How to use Substack! (hahahahaha) There, I have ripped off the bandaid of bravado. I am a neophyte here. Bear with me. ; )
-How to use my new Instant Pot Duo Crisp + Air Fryer! Yes, I know I am pretty late to this party, but the space in my kitchen is valuable and limited, and I have early-adopted enough gadgets and gizmos that have ended up donated to Goodwill, that now I am not so quick to be seduced. These two technologies seem to have made it successfully to the mainstream, so I have made room for them in my life.