Mediterranean Climate

Here in California, we live in what is commonly called a Mediterranean climate. It is also known as the dry summer subtropical climate, but Mediterranean is shorter and more evocative. What this all means is that we have dry, warm summers and cool, wet winters. Our hillsides turn golden brown in the summer and lush green in the winter. Wendy MaHarry refers to the summer hills "like lions lying down" and that is a perfect description.

Now, however, we are getting into the wet season and the hills are turning green. The cattle grazing on the hillsides look muddy but fat and everything seems to be flourishing. How odd, then, that the majority of our trees have no leaves or fruit. We have some citrus trees that are dark green with eye-popping colors of orbs hanging on and our silvery olive trees still have their lovely soft leaves. But our stone fruit trees are brown-- stick-like --dormant. This morning coming to the farm, there were wisps of ground fog between the dormant trees, creating an eerie look.

Now, however, the sun is out and it is cool. No sign of rain....or spooks.

Oil painting"Clouds Over Diablo" byEunice Kritscher featured atWalnut Creek's Valley Art Gallery

Compassion and Sustainability

Sustainability is a tricky thing.

In agriculture, it is often easier to be environmentally sound than it is to be either economically viable or socially just. Someone, somewhere inevitably gets the short end of the sustainability stick.

Today, at the end of a tumultuous year with family-centered holidays fast approaching, I want to talk about sustainability and compassion. Compassion is what it takes to make an endeavor fully sustainable.

Economic disparity leads to dissatisfaction. The gap between the rich and poor continues to grow globally and locally. This lack of fairness is not sustainable because it is not just. Want leads to instability and dissent. Free markets do not ensure social justice: it seems the wealth just never trickles down quite far enough. As individuals we need to accept the responsibility for creating social justice in our small ways. Through compassion, we can move toward becoming a more sustainable society. We all need to try to understand the plight of farmers who are struggling to be economically viable and farm workers who deserve social justice.

When I hear a relatively wealthy person complain about the high cost of spinach, for example, I ask them how long it would take them to plant, nurture, grow, harvest, pack and transport that spinach. The inputs are huge for a pound of spinach and the rewards to the farmer are small. The rewards to the farm worker who actually does most of the back breaking labor are even smaller.

So, how much is a pound of spinach worth? Is it worth ensuring that we will have farmers growing spinach in the future? If so, then we need to purchase our food with the compassion that comes from knowing who is growing it for us. We need to be willing to seek food grown with the concept of social justice embedded with each seed. The choice will help to make our food system sustainable.

In the Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak midwinter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen,

Snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter,

Long ago. -- Christina Rossetti

I love this poem! It is often sung at this time of year as the days lengthen and our world responds to the rhythms of the solar system. Brrrr!

We're tilting farther from the sun with each day. Can you feel it? This tilting results in short days and long winter nights. The winter solstice itself is the day we are tilted the farthest from the sun in the northern hemisphere, our shortest day. This year, the solstice occurs on December 22nd. In England, this day is referred to as midwinter. As in the Christina Rossetti poem above, it is often bleak, windy and cold.

Significantly, it is also one of two "turning points" of the year. The day has historically symbolized the promise of the return of the sun and the lengthening of days. It is celebrated with lights and greenery.

While living in England for several years, I realized the importance of this reassurance. It seemed sometimes that the sun would never return. When darkness fell at 3 in the afternoon amid cloudy drizzle, it was easy to forget the long sunny midsummer nights and the glorious promise of spring, ablaze with flowers. I'd trim the holly hedge between my garden and the neighbor's and bring in bouquets and branches covered in red berries. Celebrating with lights blazing and living greenery brought into the house really lifted my heart.

The ancient Romans used holly to honor the god of agriculture. At this time of year, they would carry branches in processions, give holly wreaths as gifts of good will and decorate their homes with cuttings. Why celebrate the god of agriculture during the cold and dark? Because, they viewed this shortest day as the pivotal point in the year when days start lengthening and the promise of next year's planting and harvest should be celebrated. When viewed from this perspective, maybe midwinter isn't quite so bleak.

Chill Hours and Darkness

I was thinking of chill hours and darkness on my way into the farm this morning. As I passed the frosty hillsides embracing Marsh Creek, I wondered if the trees on the hillsides need chill hours like our stone fruits do. I notice the elderberries blooming at the same time every year and think about the amazing mechanisms engineered into plants to assure their survival.

Chill hours and darkness affect humans and plants in some ways very similarly. When it gets cold and dark, I want to hole up in my warm house and reduce my activity. Plants respond in much the same way. They withdraw the sugars from the tips of their branches and get prepared for a state of extended dormancy. As darkness increases, hormones in plants signal "sleepy time!" This leads to a drop in photosynthetic activity. Leaves fall and sugars and proteins concentrate in cell protoplasm creating a sort of anti-freeze within the plant.

Chill hours actually work on the other end of the seasonal cycle, triggering bloom time. If a tree doesn't receive the chill hours it needs to break dormancy, it may bloom haphazardly, resulting in the possibility of its missing prime pollination time and having low fruit set. I don't know much about it, but I do know that when the cold weather comes, stone and pome fruit farmers revel in the cold, thinking of the good it does their trees. We all count the hours of chill knowing that they make for better production and healthier trees.

Bagna Cauda Pasta Recipe

In honor of the arrival of the 2008 Frog Hollow Farm Extra-Virgin Organic Olive Oil, here's a delicious spin on bagna cauda, the Italian garlic-and-anchovy dip from Piedmont. Since this calls for a lot of oil, you might want to use your Frog Hollow olive oil for the bagna cauda, and an everyday olive oil for frying the eggs just before serving.

This recipe comes from A Twist of the Wrist by Nancy Silverton. Thanks to Luisa Weiss of Wednesday Chef for bringing it to our attention.

Egg Pappardelle With Bagna Cauda, Wilted Radicchio and an Olive-Oil-Fried Egg
Serves 4

For the pappardelle and bagna cauda:
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
15 anchovy fillets
8 large garlic cloves, minced
¼ cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
12 radicchio leaves, torn into small pieces
Grated zest and juice of half a lemon
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
8 to 12 ounces egg pappardelle

For finishing the dish:
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 large eggs
Parmesan cheese
1 heaping tablespoon finely chopped flat-leaf parsley

1. To make the bagna cauda, place a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the olive oil, anchovies and garlic and cook, breaking up the anchovies with a fork and stirring constantly, until the anchovies dissolve and the garlic is soft and fragrant, about 2 minutes. Turn off the heat, stir in the parsley, radicchio and lemon zest and juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

2. Prepare the pasta by bringing a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Add enough kosher salt until the water tastes salty and return to a boil. Add the pasta and cook, stirring occasionally, until al dente.

3. To finish the dish, heat the olive oil in a large nonstick skillet over high heat until the oil is almost smoking, about 2 minutes. Break 1 egg into a small bowl and pour into the skillet. When it just begins to set around the edges, break the second egg into the bowl and pour into the skillet. (By waiting a moment before adding the next egg, the eggs won’t stick together.) Repeat with the remaining 2 eggs. Cook until the edges are golden, the whites are set and the yolks are still runny.

4. Use tongs to lift the pasta out of the water and transfer it quickly, while it’s dripping with water, to the skillet with the bagna cauda. Place the skillet over high heat. Toss the pasta to combine the ingredients and cook for 1 to 2 minutes more.

5. Using tongs, divide the pasta among 4 plates, twisting it into mounds. Grate a generous layer of cheese over each. Place an egg over the cheese. Sprinkle the parsley over the pasta and serve with more grated cheese and pepper.

Winter Pears: History and Hope

I was just reading a story about pear mania in the Fruit Hunters. Just like the Dutch craze for tulips, there was a New World equivalent with regard to pears. There were pear parties in the mid-1800's and rampant speculation in what we would now call pear futures. According to the authors, juicy pears became all the rage in Massachusetts in the years between 1825-1875. Members of high society hosted pear tasting parties and investors threw capital into speculative orchards, most of them unsuccessful. According to P.T. Quinn (1869, Pear Culture for Profit), "There has been more money lost than made, for I could enumerate five persons who have utterly failed to every one who has made pear culture profitable." Would-be millionaires entered into fierce competition for the newest pear varieties and the idea of getting rich planting and growing pears led "legions of American amateurs to experiment with their own varieties." (The Fruit Hunters, Adam Leith Gollner and Adam Gollner, p.255)

I leave the tale of pear mania behind with some hope for today. Life went on, pears grew as did hope. The ruin of investors in pears was not quite a crisis by our present standards. As Tom Stevens of the Daily Telegraph said in his article October 8, 2008, the word "crisis" comes from the Greek for "turning point." (Hope will only emerge when we're utterly submerged in bad news, 10/8/08) In the ancient language of flowers, pears symbolize comfort and affection. I find a lot of comfort in the winter, eating delicious, juicy pears, seeing them in crates with all their lovely colors. Knowing that I am eating the best fruits of a long history of pear breeding.

When pears are given as gifts, the sender is asking for a sign of hope. Hope is something that we adults often have a short supply of. When things are going badly, we tend to lose hope. Maybe at this time of financial worry and this season of generosity we all need to give the gift of pears and hope.

Garbage to Gold

Our CSA newsletter gets down and dirty this week, looking to see what happens to your fruit after you're done with the good parts. The inspiration for this essay came from one of Farmer Al's customers at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market, who pointed out that all the food scraps collected at the Ferry Building were composted at Jepson Prairie Organics in Vacaville.

As it turns out, one of Frog Hollow's biggest compost suppliers is Jepson Prairie. Every week, according to their website, some 5000 tons of food scraps from Bay Area homes and businesses are trucked out to their site in Vacaville for composting. As a subsidiary of Norcal Waste Systems, Jepson gets all the orange peels, old lettuce, leftover spaghetti and half-eaten burritos that the Bay Area tosses into its green-waste recycling bins. This admittedly stinky but valuable sludge gets minced on-site, since the smaller the pieces, the faster they decompose.

This makes up what home composters know as "greens"--the soft, leafy, juicy stuff that's high in nitrogen and breaks down quickly. What a good compost pile needs is a balance of "browns", too--drier, harder materials, like straw, wood chips, and dry leaves, that are high in carbon and slower to break down. So, Jepson Prairie mixes in yard & tree trimmings from Vacaville and Dixon to get the proper ratio of brown (carbonaceous) and green (nitrogenous) materials.

Then, the mix goes into self-contained plastic pods known as "Ag Bags," which are threaded with aeration pipes. The mixture starts breaking down and in the process heats up to temperatures sufficient to kill pathogens, undesirable bacteria, and weed seeds. After 2 months in the "Ag Bags," the mixture goes outside, piled in long, tall windrows. These windrows are mechanically turned numerous times during the next 30 days to keep oxygen moving throughout the pile. After 30 days, the black-brown, crumbly, and nearly odorless mixture is screened to sift out any oversized pieces. Once it's been sifted into a uniform mix, it's ready to go out to the farm.

Just like the city that feeds it, much of the value of Jepson Prairie's compost comes from the diversity of its sources--everything from coffee grounds and pomegranate rinds to pad Thai and persimmon peels.

So, toss an apple core into your green recycling bin and it can end up right back in the orchard, in the form of lush, microbe-rich compost that enriches the soil and feeds the trees.

And speaking of green garbage at the Ferry Building, Gov. Schwarznegger just gave the marketplace a 2008 Governor's Environmental and Economic Leadership Award. Check it out in the Chronicle's City Insider column, which mentions the building's composting program as a way of "closing the loop" between urban-edge farmers and city consumers.

In case you were wondering, no, you can't buy Jepson Prairie's compost for your backyard. As a wholesale operation, they sell only to farms, nurseries, wineries, and other businesses with commercial resale licenses, not to private individuals. If you'd like to learn more about backyard composting, check out these classes from San Francisco's Garden for the Environment.

Winter Even Comes to California

The past 2 days at the farm have been shrouded in fog: the kind of fog often called "tule" fog in the Great Valley. It seems to be localized so that within 15 minutes drive, or less, it is sunny and clear and cool like Indian summer. But here, we are hunkered down working in the orchard, kitchen and offices.

It's a welcome respite to go into the kitchen at this time of year. The smells are heavenly. There is activity beyond imagination with pears being poached and canned, pastries being created, cookies and granola being baked and a multitude of packages being put into beautiful boxes for the holidays and sent to all corners of the country. It's wonderful for me to imagine faces of recipients when they open their little boxes of Brentwood sunshine in the midst of a snowy day.

I love the way the cookies look that are baked in our kitchen. These are definitely not mass produced, machine- made cookies. Only their taste exceeds their wonderful aroma. One cold day last week, Jose brought me a freshly baked peanut butter and jam sandwich cookie: warm from the oven with the jam oozy and delicious. I'd been dying to try one, since they sounded so yummy. I was not disappointed.

Life on the farm is great, even on cold foggy days!

Fall Fruit Galette Recipe

Last Saturday was a beautiful, warm autumn day at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market--the sort of day when you feel blessed to be living in the Bay Area and hard-pressed to imagine living anywhere else. The market was bustling with people filling their baskets with fresh produce for the upcoming holiday: ruby pomegranates and sunset-orange persimmons, shiny acorn-brown chestnuts and big leafy fans of red Russian kale.

Strolling up to the market, we overheard many snippets of conversation, all focusing on one thing: pie!

Yes, it was Pie Day at the market, and pies--apple, pecan, pumpkin, and more--seemed to be on everyone's mind. The good folks at CUESA, who administer the market, had set up a really nice and informative pie-making display, with everything you'd want to know about fillings, crusts, baking implements and more, including useful little maps showing what stands were selling fresh, local pie ingredients from lard and cultured butter to eggs, nuts, fruit, and sugar-pie pumpkins. At the Frog Hollow Farm stand, we had quinces and 3 kinds of pears for sale: Taylor's Gold, Bosc, and some deliciously slurpy Warrens.

Back at the demonstration kitchen, volunteers were passing out samples of pumpkin tart and a Fall Fruit Galette made at the Frog Hollow Farm Cafe, full of big, tender apple chunks on a flaky crust. If you didn't get a chance to taste it, you can still make your own. Here is Becky's recipe, as handed out by CUESA. Happy baking!


Fall Fruit Galette
Rebecca Courchesne, Frog Hollow Farm
Note that the crust recipe makes twice as much dough as you'll need.

Galette Dough
2 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
6 oz. butter (12 tablespoons, or 1 1/2 sticks)
1/2 cup ice water, or as needed

1. Combine flour, salt, and sugar in a resealable plastic bag. Cut butter into 1/2" chunks, and place in a separate bag. Transfer both bags to the freezer for 30 minutes.

2. In a food processor, briefly pulse flour mixture to combine. Add butter chunks and pulse until butter is incorporated but some chunks still remain. Add water while pulsing. You should be able to barely hold the dough together in your hand.

3. Form the dough into 2 disks, wrap in plastic and let one rest in the refrigerator for 45 minutes; freeze the other for later use.

Fruit Filling
3 pears, peeled, cored, and sliced
2 apples, peeled, cored, and sliced
1/2 cup fresh cranberries or huckleberries
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar (use the larger amount if using cranberries)
3 tbsp flour

1. Combine fruits and vanilla.

2. Stir sugar and flour together and gently toss with fruit.

To make galette
1. Preheat oven to 400F, or 375F if using a convection oven.

2. Roll dough into an 11" disc. Spoon fruit filling onto tart disc (don't overfill your pastry, or your crust will become soggy). Fold edges of the tart over onto the fruit. Brush edges with melted butter or water and sprinkle with 2 tbsp of sugar.

3. Bake for 35-40 minutes, until edges are light brown and fruit juices are bubbling. Serve tart warm out of the oven with vanilla ice cream.

Olives and Their Golden Oil

Homer called it "liquid gold." and that name seems apt.

This week we will start the olive harvest here at the farm. Farmer Al told me this morning that the yield looks great and the fruit quality high. We are expecting to bottle a record amount of the beautiful golden oil.

It's amazing to me that from the little black olives hanging heavily on our trees right now that we will receive such a healthful and versatile oil. And so much of it! I mean, really, the fruit is so small. Olive tree yields depend on the number of trees per acre, proper irrigation, fruit set, pruning and age of trees. But, fruit yield and oil yield do not directly correlate. It seems like the most telling statistic is the leaf-to-fruit ratio. With a high leaf to fruit ratio, the trees produce more oil. Anyway, the bottom line is that a higher fruit yield does not guarantee a higher oil yield. We'll have to wait and see.

The health benefits of olive oil are documented pretty well, however. According to the Mayo Clinic, consuming olive oil reduces your risk for heart disease. Cool! And according to recent research, olive oil also reduces your risk for stomach ulcers. For more on the health benefits go to this link.

Throughout history, olives and their precious oil have been revered and we at Frog Hollow are carrying on in that tradition.

The Problem with Pears

We all know what they are, yet pears are as old as anything in our collective cultures and remain a very unappreciated fruit--except by a dedicated few. As I begin a journey to where my pomological eye will be turned back again to stone fruit, and for the first time towards pears, I have begun to truly appreciate the unappreciated pear. More importantly, I have started to ask, Why? So why is it that the pear is such a misunderstood fruit? Is it geography? Culture? Religion? Or do they just taste bad? In my next few blogs, I will explore several pear quality-related topics in hopes of coming to some conclusion to my query of, What is the Problem with Pears?

Let me first clear the table by stating that pears are one of the, if not the, most satisfying fruits on the planet. It is true, they are more difficult to deal with in terms of storage, ripening, and determining when that pear is ready to eat. Too soft and they taste like mush; too hard and they have no aroma or mouth-feel; just right and you are in heaven.

The pear has been around for a long, long time; some even believe it was the pear, and not the apple, that was the fruit in the Garden of Eden. Horticulturally speaking, the pear is just about as difficult (or easy) to grow as any other tree fruit. And were it not for its susceptibility to fireblight (a bacterial disease) its production, domestically at least, would still be pretty strong. But what was the journey the pear traveled to get to where it is today?

The first written evidence of pears, was in Homer's Odyssey in the 6th century BCE: "Therein grow trees, tall and luxuriant, pears and pomegranates and apple-trees with their bright fruit, and sweet figs, and luxuriant olives. Of these the fruit perishes not nor fails in winter or in summer, but lasts throughout the year."

From Wikipedia: The genus is thought to have originated in present-day western China in the foothills of the Tian Shan, a mountain range of Central Asia, and to have spread to the north and south along mountain chains, evolving into a diverse group of over 20 widely recognized primary species. The enormous number of varieties of the cultivated European pear are without doubt derived from one or two wild subspecies, widely distributed throughout Europe, and sometimes forming part of the natural vegetation of the forests. In England, where an ancient pear tree gave its name to Pirio (Perry Barr, a district of Birmingham) in Domesday, the pear is sometimes considered wild; there is always the doubt that it may not really be so, but the produce of some seed of a cultivated tree deposited by birds or otherwise, which has germinated as a wild-form spine-bearing tree. Court accounts of Henry III of England record pears shipped from Rochelle and presented to the King by the Sheriffs of London. The French names of pears grown in English medieval gardens suggests that their reputation, at the least, was French; a favored variety in the accounts was named for Saint Rule or Regul', bishop of Senlis.

The records of pear culture (the growing of..) go back nearly 3000 years, including a famous book written by Chia Shi-Yi in the 6th century that chronicles pear culture for the previous 1500 years. For the past 3000+ years, pears have been considered a delicacy for the wealthy along with the peach and the apricot. And yet today, even though they hold a prominent place in global cultures and have been considered a culinary treasure, their production worldwide has dropped off, as well as their consumption in favor of the numerous other fruits.

I believe, however, that the pear is making a comeback (or will, in any case) as our eating habits become more European in the new tradition of the Slow Food movement. As our eating habits shift more to smaller portions of higher quality, provincial, and artisanal foods, we will once again rediscover the beauty of the pear. As we discover, rediscover, and appreciate the icons of culinary cultures, pears will once again appear in fruit baskets everywhere.

Here at Frog Hollow Farm, we grow both European and Asian pears. Our most provincial and best tasting is the Warren pear--truly a culinarian's delight. We also grow Golden Russet, Taylor's Gold, and numerous Asian types collectively known as nashi. As Homer wrote in the Odyssey, "These were the splendid gifts of the gods in the palace of Alcinous," so they shall be once again.

Happy Children and the Holidays

One of my goals at Frog Hollow Farm (and in my daily life) is to connect people with their local farmers. Working on the farm, I have a great opportunity to do just that while having my finger on the pulse, so to speak. I think it's just as important to know your farmer as it is to know your doctor or your child's teacher. After all, we eat every day! I want to know how the food I'm putting in my mouth and in the mouths of my family got to my table. I have been a member of a CSA for 8 years and I love the excitement of seeing what's in my box each week as well as the comfort of knowing that a farmer I know grew, picked and packed that food with care.

Frog Hollow Farm has some great ways for eaters to connect with us directly. One way is our Happy Child CSA, another is our mail order business and a third is through local farmers' markets. As the holidays approach, I'd like to suggest some great ways to use these to achieve multiple goals: support local, organic family farmers, buy outstanding gifts and give your friends and family something they can feel good about.

This year for the first time, Happy Child CSA is now offering gift certificates. If you know someone who would like to try a CSA, this is a great opportunity. In addition to getting a weekly box of "legendary fruit" CSA members receive other benefits. Frog Hollow products can be had at a great discount. Our CSA coordinator, Karen, goes out of her way to meet the needs of all members. For more about CSA see: USDA-Community Supported Agriculture or Local Harvest CSA is great for the farm. We value the fact that members are willing to invest up front to support our ongoing operations. We are on the front lines of the battle to conserve farm land in the Bay Area and we love to know that we have neighbors who want us to succeed. The "dividends" you receive as an active investor and supporter are weekly boxes of the most delicious organic fruit from us and our neighbors.

This year for the holidays we have contacted some great artisans to compliment our fruit and fruit products. Josh and Carolyn at Rustic Bakery in Marin County are baking some amazing whole grain sourdough lavosh to compliment our Asian pear chutney. When paired with San Joaquin Gold cheese from the Fiscalini Cheese Company these are a wonderful autumn treat. The Fiscalini family make farmstead cheeses we were sold on from the first bite. We are also offering their extra mature bandage-wrapped cheddar with our creamy and juicy Warren pears. This is an unbeatable combo! All these great foods will soon be available on our website along with some new pastries and our holiday gift packs. We hope that when you buy the combinations we have created you will appreciate the artisans we have invited to join us and seek them out.


Farmers' markets are the most direct of all direct marketing options. When I'm at a market, I love to see the shoppers' faces when they bite into that perfect fruit or taste summer in a little spoon of conserve. Here in California we go year round. Right now, we are selling Bosc pears, Warren pears and some Taylor's Gold pears. When May comes, everyone is excited to see cherries and apricots but now is the time for fruits that keep. These pears will nourish my family right through the winter. I like to poach them and keep them on a visible shelf in beautiful glass jars. Along with my jars of tomatoes, pickled peppers and olives, they remind me of our bounty. Isn't that what this time of year is about?

Persimmons & Pears

Wondering what to do with this week's pears and persimmons? Check out KQED's Bay Area Bites this week for some delicious info and recipes using the Fuyu persimmon, including a savory persimmon, fennel, and almond couscous and a luscious-looking pear, persimmon, and walnut strudel.

The San Francisco Chronicle also has a handy round-up of tasty pear recipes. And a great-looking walnut and pear tart recipe can be found on Chow.

Welcome!

Welcome to the inaugural blog for Frog Hollow Farm's Happy Child CSA. To get things off on the right foot, we know many of you already buy Frog Hollow Farm Fruit at farmers' markets. But our Happy Child CSA differs from the farmers' market in that you can get locally grown and produced farm products delivered year-round to your home (or local drop off point) even in the dead of winter. OK, you can't get our peaches in January, but we've teamed up with many local farmers to also bring you avocados, citrus, and much much more. How does it work?

• We deliver weekly boxes or 1/2 boxes to a pick-up spot in your neighborhood. Usually, the amount of fruit in a delivery will supplement a family of four's requirement for a week.
  
  
• There are never any obligations. You pick your schedule: weekly or every-other-week. Going on vacation? No problem, we will put your delivery on hold until you return.
  
  
• Weekly newsletters--now including this blog--inform you of farm news, recipes, varietal notes, storage and handling recommendations and more.
  
  
• Visits to your neighborhood by Farmer Al and other members of the Frog Hollow family. Invitations to visit the farm for in-depth farm tours by Farmer Al, potlucks, "tastings," guest speakers, and Harvest Celebrations featuring great chefs from around the Bay!
  
  
• Year round supplies of fruit that we may not grow ourselves but get from other local, organic growers we know...e.g., Great, incredibly sweet Valencia oranges, or navels, or rare antique apple varieties, kiwi, cherimoyas, sapotes, avocados & the list goes on...
  
  
• We make payment easy too! We take checks, Visa, MC, American Express. For your convenience, you can arrange an automatic payment through us. Order Here.
  
  
• Please join the entire Frog Hollow Farm family- a vibrant community of farmers, farm workers, and people like you who eat the fruits of our labor - to form a powerful force creating a new vision for food and farming here in California and beyond...
  
  
In Good Health,

The Folks at Frog Hollow Farm