
8 minute read
Special Feature
Plowing the field of dreams how the San Luis Berry Farm is banking on a better tomorrow, one seedling at a time.
bY TOm fraNCISKOVICH
PARTNERS left to right John Rourke and Chris Freitas
During those dark days of 2008, as the stock market was dropping 800 points a day, major banks were failing, and massive layo s became the norm, a disconcerting thought occurred to John Rourke: “What happens if there is a run on the banks and money becomes worthless? How would I feed my family?” By deductive reasoning, Rourke gured that if the worst-case scenario did become a reality it would make a lot of sense to be able to produce your own food. And, because Rourke has a reputation for doing nothing on a small scale, his ve year education in food production is now manifesting in the San Luis Berry Farm at the intersection of Los Osos Valley Road and Foothill Boulevard. It all started with chickens. A half-dozen chicks began yielding enough eggs for his family of ve. ose eggs were also valuable, as it turns out, for bartering. And before long, a loose exchange rate was worked out between friends and neighbors. A dozen fresh eggs could fetch four or ve avocadoes or a dozen or so apples. With a successful chicken venture under his belt and with the possibility of a catastrophic economic meltdown becoming more remote, Rourke realized that he really enjoyed learning about food, and how to grow it. And, his education continued in earnest. Next he built an aquaponics system in his driveway. For those unfamiliar, aquaponics is a process whereby a complete “closed loop”
system is created. Water is pumped from a massive fish tank to plants above that are growing in gravel. No soil is used and the fertilizer is supplied by the fish, which, of course, you can also eat. A survivalist’s dream come true.
Books were studied, websites were visited, and conversations were had with just about anyone who would listen. And, there was one person in particular who kept coming back for more. Before their softball games each Monday night, John Rourke and Chris Freitas were inseparable. Conversations began and ended with how to grow food. And it was during those conversations, often resuming after the game and continuing on well into the night, that a partnership was born. Having grown up in the agriculture business in Texas, Freitas knows his way around a farm. And he looks as comfortable sitting atop a tractor as he does studying soil samples. He says his time spent as a student at Cal Poly’s School of Agriculture was an important and formative experience. “I just soaked it up. Spent all the time I could visiting local farms and asking people what they were growing, what was doing well,” relays Freitas in a barely perceptible Texas drawl. Upon graduating, he took his knowledge to the “Great Salad Bowl,” otherwise known as the Salinas Valley, and become one of the first to grow sugar snap peas. One thing led to another and before long he was growing 1,000 acres of specialty produce. At some point along the way a large corporate farm took notice of the young up-start and decided to send him a sharp-elbowed message: “Sell us your farm, or we will put you out of business.” Freitas opted for the former and accepted employment as a produce broker, buying from farmers and selling to large grocery stores. But memories of the farm never faded and all the traveling involved in his job, frankly, was getting old. It was while sitting in a seminar back in Arkansas seven month ago that Freitas resolved to, once again, follow his passion. “This guy from Wal-Mart was talking about high global food costs and how sustainable small farms were the future. That’s when it hit me. I came home and wrote it down on this little white board at my house. And that’s when things started falling into place.” The friends, who had met less than a year prior, began identifying a list of requirements for their potential farming venture: food had to be organic and locally grown using environmentally friendly processes; there had to be some sort of educational or community outreach component; it had to be family-friendly, as they both have young children; and it had to be sustainable and create local jobs. Much like he did in college, Freitas started talking with local farmers. Rourke followed suit, “What are you growing? What are people buying? And, more importantly, what is missing and what should be grown here?” Over and over the response came back: Strawberries.
As they began to research what it would take to effectively grow organic strawberries, it became apparent that the answer was right in front of them. “I live across the street from the Jewish temple, and I’ve always looked out at the field and salivated over it,” explains Freitas. “So, when we were honing in on what we needed, it started to become obvious that this would be the perfect spot to do it.” And, because one of the most important and difficult requirements of receiving the coveted USDA Certified Organic label—starting the crop in soil that has been allowed to sit for at least three years—had already been met, it would allow them to get to work right away. And because of the recent, well-publicized financial challenges of Congregation Beth David, the leaders of the synagogue were eager to strike a deal. In what could only be described as a “win-win” outcome, the two parties did not waste any time establishing an agreement that strengthens Congregation Beth David’s financial footing for generations to come by allowing Rourke and Freitas to aquire 72 acres of farmland around the temple. Out of this, the partnership is formalized and the San Luis Berry Farm is born. No sooner had the ink dried on the deal than the first tractor appeared at the well-traveled intersection of Los Osos Valley Road and Foothill Boulevard. Plowing revealed what the partners had suspected: beautiful, dark, nutrient-rich soil. Planting followed soon after and, assuming that the weather cooperates, which is always a big assumption in farming, berries will go up for sale in a roadside stand starting at the end of March. But, that’s just the beginning, as plans are already underway for a “farmto-table European-style restaurant.” Rourke lays out the vision, “The idea being that patrons will be able to see exactly where their food comes from. And if it isn’t grown right here, it will come from somewhere nearby. Think rustic, old-Italian village with an earth oven. It cannot be any fresher.” But, it doesn’t stop there. The overall vision for the San Luis Berry Farm is one that might fall under the recently created business category of “agritainment,” which, as the hybridized word indicates, is a combination of agriculture and entertainment. As purely agricultural operations, particularly the smaller ones, tend to struggle to find a profitable niche, an entertainment element may be added to provide a new stream of income. In our area, one does not have to travel far to find a prime example: wineries hosting events, such as concerts. And, on a national level, as consumers become increasingly interested in what is going into their food and innovative farmers find different ways to diversify into entertainment offerings, the category has been exploding with growth. The sky is the limit when it comes to agritainment and websites abound sharing information with farmers about how to do it (anything from adding zip lines to building an outdoor amphitheatre and everything in between). With a solid plan to handle the traffic and a large parking lot under construction (cars will enter a driveway just west of Congregation Beth David on Los Osos Valley Road), Rourke and Freitas have been looking at every possible way to maximize use of the land. At the top of this list are educational opportunities for visitors, starting with a U-pick option and growing into hands-on exhibits, such as a functioning aquaponics display (the partners have already begun reaching out to local schools to arrange for field trips). In addition to the restaurant, they are exploring other ideas such as creating a wedding and events venue. They are also kicking around the idea of starting a small-scale winery at the site. And, in a nod to the catalyst for the venture in the first place, the partners are considering building a softball field on the property. It seems nothing is off-limits and no idea is too big for the Central Coast’s newest strawberry farmers. But, for hundreds of years the heart of farming—newfangled “agritainment” or not—has been characterized by a lot of hard work. Clearly there is no shortage of it now, as Rourke and Freitas take turns driving their newly acquired John Deere tractor (purchased used from another farmer in King City.) As the clouds move in, the wind starts to pick up, and the temperature drops, the conversation shifts away from big ideas and toward very little ones, specifically the freshly planted strawberry seedlings, just making their way into the world for the first time. Observes Freitas plainly, “The wind always picks up this time of the day right here, but this looks a little different to me. Could have some weather on the way.” With a solid handshake from an earth-stained right hand he climbs back on to the tractor, for there is suddenly a new urgency to complete the work today. Rourke, who will take up the next shift on the green and yellow behemoth, leads a trail to his favorite spot on the property: a grove of trees encircling a peaceful den-like space. For a guy who grew up “eating every type of fast-food under the sun” and claiming that he is of the “convenience and pre-packaged food generation,” Rourke has become a surprisingly passionate advocate of fresh, local organic foods. And, as we begin our walk toward the trees in the distance, the facts and figures flow quickly. But his voice softens and his speech becomes noticeably more deliberate when he starts talking about local kids. “My goal is to bring this back—we’ve gotten too far away from our food—and to really have kids, the next generation, understand this stuff. Because it matters more than people realize. I want my kids, your kids, to really get it. Now we are going to have an opportunity, right here in our own backyard, to bring it back in a big way.”