Brow furrowed, back straining, body perspiring, I scour the earth searching for that perfect berry. Brushing back the draping leaves, I reveal the treasured rubies hiding underneath. I mechanically inspect each bundle of strawberries, checking their size and ripeness. Worthy berries are picked and plopped into the bucket, the soft thud signifying a passing grade. The underdeveloped, the dimpled and the moldy fail to meet the standards.
Though the process is long and arduous, my boyfriend and I manage to fill our buckets up before our legs give out. That night, as we sit down to our homemade strawberry shortcakes topped with the hand-picked fruit, we savor their sweet taste and the sweet satisfaction of making dessert the old-fashioned way, seeing it from ground to table.
For Tammy Sapowsky, the old-fashioned way is the favored way. As co-owner of Sapowsky Farms in Granby, Tammy takes pride in her business’ commitment to the time-honored traditions of farming life. In operation for over 60 years and three generations, Sapowsky Farms has undergone some modifications, the most noticeable of which was a budget-busting expansion from 40 to 150 acres. Ten years later, Tammy confirms that the investment was well worth it as she steals a gratified glance at the shelves stocked with veggies galore—tomatoes, summer squash, zucchini and beans, all from the family’s own fields. Though its exterior has evolved over the past decades, the farm’s raison d’?tre has been preserved, the legacy of an age that predates the supermarket era.
Rapid advancements in technology and biogenetics have been met with healthy hesitation by Tammy and Steve, her husband and business partner. They believe that the classic methods usually yield the best quality. An abundance of modified tomato varieties have surged onto the market recently, promising a cheap and easy harvest. But the Sapowskys are fastidious when it comes to their tomatoes, choosing to grow the same species that the first owner, Steve’s father, raised in 1947. Tammy contends that “the new varieties just don’t have that same old-fashioned flavor.” The proof is in the purchase, as the tomatoes remain top sellers, along with the Sapowskys’ own sweet corn, strawberries and asparagus.
The Sapowskys have even resisted pressure from the organic crusade, a particularly popular campaign in the Pioneer Valley. Their alternative: a “responsible conventional” approach, one that reflects longstanding farming practices and includes some select organic processes. Spraying their crops sparingly, combining organic matter with synthetic fertilizer, and swearing by the miracles of crop rotation, Sapowsky Farms guarantees that its produce is all natural and entirely safe. This guarantee isn’t printed on a packaging label or certified by the government. It comes face to face, straight from the cultivator’s mouth.
This kind of personal promise characterizes the intimate interaction between producer and consumer. Tammy hopes customers know that their voices are heard above the grumbling tractor engine and beeping cash register. She welcomes suggestions for additional items and tries to grant all feasible requests. Latest additions include English cukes and Asian pear apples, which have gathered a small but loyal following.
For those hankering for some hands-on involvement, the Sapowskys encourage their customers to dig into the dirt and grime themselves, to participate in the nitty-gritty of farming. The farm stand sells vegetable plant starters for the agriculturally inclined who want to rear and reap their food in the back yard. Individuals without green thumbs (my boyfriend and I, for example) can choose to pick their own strawberries, a popular option in the month of June, the peak of the season.
*
Activities like these not only generate the freshest produce but yield other, less tangible benefits, too; they can facilitate family bonding and impart life lessons to the young. The pick-your-own fields are typically populated by families looking for leisure time outside and quality time together. Backyard vegetable gardens afford kids an opportunity to develop their horticultural skills as well as their sense of autonomy. Tammy Sapowsky endorses efforts to get the kids involved. “It lets kids learn where their food comes from,” she says, “and gives them a sense of satisfaction.” Her own sons, she says, “learned how to be patient and how to sacrifice.”
Farm life seems to have agreed with the younger Sapowsky generation, as both sons continue to contribute to the family business. The oldest tries to diversify the farm stand, raising Swiss chard and radishes with his wife for his parents to sell. The youngest deals with mechanical matters, repairing and operating tractors and equipment. As a traditional family farm with tight ties to the community, Sapowsky’s certainly can charm the sentimental shopper. But nostalgia alone is not enough to sustain a stable clientele. Tammy attributes their enduring success to “the freshness, the quality and the longevity of the produce. That’s what makes a customer, and that’s what keeps a customer.”
Although we may imagine it as an idyllic scene from a pastoral painting of yore, making a living off the land is not bucolic bliss. It’s rising before the sun, beating it by several hours, in order to make it to the farmers’ market hours away. It’s washing, packing, and stocking a jumbo shipment of local zucchini that wasn’t scheduled to arrive that day. It’s recovering after a cooler suddenly goes defunct or a tractor malfunctions. In short, it’s hard work. But the Sapowsky family wouldn’t have it any other way. They prefer a life of the unexpected, where “every day is a different day and no two days are alike.” Successes are cherished when losses are part of the routine. Running a business on the model of an old-fashioned family farm may require extraordinary resilience, but the return is likewise exceptional and especially satisfying.
Tidying up after my boyfriend and I have devoured and digested our homemade strawberry dessert, I tightly reseal the lid on the Tupperware dish to ensure that the leftover fruit stays fresh. As I open the refrigerator door to place the container in cooler conditions, the artificial light illuminates the dark room and a gust of chill air escapes into the humid summer night. Crumbs fall from my plate into a garbage bag that will be transported by anonymous hands from my yard to an undisclosed location far, far away.
Modern luxuries like these pervade the corners of our kitchen, the details of our days. Sure, they make life easier, but by simplifying life we inevitably deplete it of some of its richness. Farmers like the Sapowskys remind us of the comfort of knowing and trusting your food supplier, of the pride in managing a well-pruned vegetable garden, and of the pleasure in pulling out of the oven strawberry shortcakes made from scratch. A simple old-fashioned lifestyle can’t be considered simple at all. It’s a means to a very full existence, something hard to find between sterile white walls or behind a computer desk.
As I go to transfer dirty plates from tabletop to dishwashing machine, I pause and reconsider. Asking my boyfriend to join me in the kitchen, I pass him a clean cloth, squirt a dollop of liquid detergent onto a sponge and surrender my hands to the yellow rubber gloves. Tonight the dishwasher can take some time off. We’ll do the dishes by ourselves.
Sapowsky Farms, 434 East State Street, Route 202, Granby, (413) 467-7952.
