Occasionally I get to experience market farming from the consumer’s, rather than the farmer’s perspective. It’s always helpful to feel what it’s like to be a shopper instead of a producer. In this issue are articles about two markets that I first approached as a consumer.

First was the story about Food Bank Farm in Hadley, Massachusetts, which begins on page 10. Last summer, we visited our friends Lynn and David Barclay, who had recently moved from Kansas to Northampton, Massachusetts. We arrived at their house on a sweltering July afternoon and Lynn invited me to accompany her to CSA distribution. We drove across the river and down a pleasant back road to Food Bank Farm. The temperature was about 15 degrees cooler inside the big old barn where distribution is held. We discussed what we wanted to cook for dinner as we chose our vegetables from the overflowing baskets of produce on the tables. We decided to forego the pick-your-own herbs and beans because of the heat, but we picked up a couple of prepared foods from the cooler before we checked out.

I was impressed by how easy it is to be a member of Food Bank Farm. First, there’s the issue of time flexibility. Food Bank Farm has distribution three days a week, a total of 16 hours. Although members are scheduled for a certain day, they are welcome to come a different day if they can’t make it. The PYO is open any time the foliage is dry.

Then there’s the food flexibility. Food Bank Farm pioneered the idea of mix-and-match, rather than prepacked boxes that contain whatever the farmer decides to include. Farm manager Michael Docter says “It was like the Berlin Wall came down” when they switched to this system, and I can see why. Some people are naturally creative in the kitchen and are up to the task of cooking with whatever is given to them, but the vast majority of us have limited skills in that area. We have all heard from CSA members who just didn’t want or know what to do with certain items of produce. And then they felt guilty for throwing it out. Guilt is a corrosive emotion; it can spoil the CSA experience for people.

At Food Bank Farm, if you don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. On the day we visited, the message board told us we could take UP TO a bunch of beets, a bunch of carrots, 4 cucumbers, 6 scallions, 4 squash or eggplants, 2 garlic or onions, a bag of lettuce, 3/4 bag of mixed greens (choosing our own mixture from baskets of arugula, endive, mizuna, bok choy, tat soi, kale or mustard greens), as much as we needed of Swiss chard and braising mix, and a handful of cilantro. From the customer’s perspective, this was very satisfying. Switching to my farmer perspective, though, I found the uncertainty of the system unsettling. However, farm manager Michael Docter assured me that it all evens out and they rarely run out of things.

Perhaps the most important insight from visiting Food Bank Farm, though, was the sense of being a part of something very different from the rest of American life. There are many people who are depressed by the homogeneity of our culture, by the sheer ennui of every town having the same stores, restaurants, and food. For people like that, belonging to a CSA restores one’s identity as an individual.

The second story in this issue that I encountered as a consumer is about the Overland Park Farmers’ Market on page 6. When Overland Park was founded in 1905, it was envisioned as a self-contained community a half-day’s buggy ride from Kansas City. Suburban sprawl engulfed it many years ago, and the main thoroughfares of the city are lined with the aforementioned chain restaurants and stores. But the original downtown has been restored and revitalized, including the construction in the 1990s of the wonderful structure that protects the farmers’ market, which pulls in crowds of people who crave a more genuine and individual environment.

A couple of observations about the market: Although it was cold and drizzly the day I had to go to pick up plants, I went anyway because I knew the market was covered. Once I got there, I would not have lingered had it not been for the hot coffee and rolls sold there. The second time I went, the market was overflowing with bedding plants. I’m sure some growers there grouse about the competition in bedding plants, but as a consumer I can tell you that the abundance inspires people to buy. I know I couldn’t resist.
See you next month.