Working the Fields at Chino Farms: a day in the life.
“Raspberries have no manners. They are not like strawberries at all.” Kay Chino says in passing. “They just grow however they feel like, all over the vine.”
I arrived at the farm a little after 8:00 a.m. on a Friday. Tom Chino asked me what I wanted to do, to which I replied, “Work the fields, of course.” He chuckled and got me a brimmed hat, and told me to hop on the next truck. I was to work with the men, mostly Oaxacan, on the family’s farm that spreads over 45 acres. It was an added challenge to ask all my questions in Spanish. Thankfully, working in the kitchen everyday has helped me keep a fairly good vocabulary.
Waiting for the truck, I watched the farm stand come together. Butter lettuce, bok choy, kale and herbs were placed in hotel pans with a little water…just minutes out of the dirt. Tomato piles were forming, oranges were laid out, lima beans were being shelled and golden and red raspberries were placed in pint containers.
Sitting on the back of the truck and bumping along the small road that leads to the fields, I looked out with curious and open eyes. Fig trees lined the narrow dirt road and across the property I saw strawberries, eggplant, brussels sprouts and corn stalks. We stopped and met up with the other truck of workers, instructed to go pick shishito peppers first. On our knees in the dirt between the rows, the guys and I were snapping the long thin green peppers off their leafy stalks and they were telling me about the brown and cream striped, two-foot snakes in the field…”Tienes miedo a las serpientes?” They were trying to scare me, which I thought was hilarious and endearing.
The thing I respect about the Chino’s practices is that they allow nature to play off nature; they use the wind, count on the bugs and insects, and know it’s all connected. The patterns in the field are purposeful, from the way the roots grow underground to the knowledge of the soil and how it compares to the origin of the heirloom seeds they are planting. Every year they try new varieties of seeds from all over the world and they have the talent to grow them.
We picked brussels sprouts off their tall stalks, which are fantastic and out of this world beautiful. After that, we grabbed knives out of the trucks and gathered broccoli, chopping them off their stalks. With everything we picked, I began to understand it was of utmost importance to only pick when the crop is ready, and not a minute before.
The lima bean vines really surprised me. They were so tall and the shade they produced in between the rows was amazing to kneel inside. The thick, dark, cool shade they made for themselves explains the growth of such an interesting pod.
French strawberries were next. We each had a little cart with one front wheel where we would place a flat lined with plastic green baskets. We all went off on our own, silently picking. I couldn’t help but think about my grandparents and their garden that I grew up eating out of as a child.
From the fields, I went back to the stand and worked alongside Nina (Tom’s wife), helping people pick out items from their grocery lists and plan their dinners. It was a treat to pass along some of the tricks I have learned, and give people the confidence to try a new technique or flavor combination.
It was fascinating to see the beautiful fruits and vegetables that I have cleaned, cooked and eaten in their natural state. My experience working at Chino Farms added another layer of meaning to what we do at California Modern. Now, when I see Chino’s product come into the kitchen and then go out in the dishes we make, I can see the “farm” in my mind’s eye and know that the purity and depth of knowledge, sharp eyes and skill of those in the fields and at the stand is truly remarkable.
Posted by Elizabeth Murray on December 6th - 2009 in Chino Farms, seasonal
