Senk Farms

As the fall season comes to a close and winter is upon us, I feel it is appropriate to christen the maiden voyage of my new project, Green Fork, Blue Adventure: A Food Odyssey, with a farewell to summer produce, as she sets sail into the chartered, but tumultuous waters of Cyber-blogging. Bon-voyage.

There are few things as wonderful as knowing the hand that cultivates your food. Be it animal or vegetable, it is such a joy to have a face and a philosophy attached to the ingredients with which I feed myself and my loved ones. This concept that is lost down a supermarket isle, drowned out by overhead lighting and artificial thunderstorms to indicate when the rains are coming (move your hand so you don't get wet!), is optimized in farmers markets and family-run roadside stands. I am very fortunate to live in Sonoma County were local farmers and growers not only have an intimate relationship with the land and their crop/herd, but an extended commitment to their community to provide healthy, heartful products. The passion and attentiveness is overwhelmingly evident in the taste; freshness that comes from that morning's collection of eggs, the juiciness of a peach picked at its peak and begging to be eaten as soon as it's held, the explosion of sweetness that comes from a sun-ripened tomato from which you understand why it is categorized as a "fruit".

We visited one such stand today, well hidden off the beaten path, called Senk Farms, where we learned about Cindy and her sister Sue's vision to create a bee/lavender farm that eventually took to life as a small hodgepodge of fruits, vegetables, and plants. It's all about the honor system here and patrons will often find the irresistible harvest unattended with only a humble basket to collect the pocket change that it costs to claim one of the seasons last jewels. With only a few months under their belt, I have already taken a liking to their way of business and look forward to the honey, lavender wands, and the pick-your-own-strawberry patch that will be available next year.

With the remaining days quickly waning for such organic (non-certified), personal, delicious experiences, I am sad to see them go, but am reminded that each new season brings something special. Knowing that something is temporary and won't be with us forever definitely helps me to savor the moments that are left before its inevitable departure... but don't be fooled by my mourning over the end of picnics in the sunshine. I adore the rainy, winter season and look forward to dusting off all my soup recipes. "Seasons come and Seasons go; Summer sunshine, Winter snow...".