Picking Our Future: Essays on Food, Change, and Farming

By Chris Sayer

Agricultural sustainability is a daunting challenge. Only visible in hindsight, sustainability continually presents new challenges to our systems of food and farming. It is a process, not a result. The trick to sustainability isn’t knowing exactly what to do; mankind has never known that. The trick is asking the right questions in the face of change and looking for leadership in the right places.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Sayer
• Release date: Jan 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465803146

Chris Sayer

About the author Chris grew up working on Petty Ranch, his family's farm that he now manages. In between his stints in “farm labor” and “management”, he studied at Northwestern University, married the best woman in the world, flew anti-submarine aircraft in the US Navy, raised two great sons, recruited executives for Silicon Valley start-ups, and learned that produce in the grocery store is just never, ever as good as what you grow yourself.

Book preview

Preface

September 11, 2001 was supposed to be a big day for me. Upon close of escrow, 23 acres of land would become mine. I would officially become a farmer. Or at least a farm owner.

Of course escrow didn’t close that day, but everyone knows that story.

The sale actually closed about a week later… I don’t remember the exact date off the top of my head. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Suddenly my decision to return to the 130 year-old family farming business and acquire a little piece of my own seemed to call for more introspection. What was going to happen? Was this the right decision? Should I return to my settled suburban life before it was too late? Dust off my old uniform and see if my services were again needed? These events made me realize that I expected agriculture to be more than just another job for me. There had to be some greater meaning.

My search for answers led to conversations throughout the state with cattlemen, chefs, environmentalists, labor advocates, nutritionists, regulators, winemakers, journalists, social workers and others. Whether in the shadow of the Golden Gate bridge or the shade of Yolo County walnut trees, every conversation brought new questions.

Sometimes it seemed I was spending more time talking about farming than actually farming. I began writing down some of my ideas so I could get back to work exploring new crops, soil fertility, direct marketing and more. These experiences fueled more writing, which created new relationships, revealing new opportunities for the farm, and so on.

I don’t know if I have found any answers yet. What I can offer by way of advice has been learned by trial and error. But I have gathered some thoughts and observations. I hope some might even qualify as insights.  Consider this work a progress report.

How can I write this book?

I am not a great farmer, nor a particularly experienced one. Any time I stop at the post office, local bank or coffee shop, I am pretty well assured of meeting somebody who is a better farmer than I am. So what qualifies me to be an author on the subject?

I am fortunate that I can have both an insider’s and an outsider’s perspective. While I have only been farming professionally a short time, I grew up around the business, on a piece of ground which has now been in my family for more than 130 years. I drove the tractor, fixed the truck, picked fruit and joined in what ever other tasks were necessary. But I went out of state for college, served in the military, and worked in Silicon Valley during the dot com boom. I now manage the family farm, but also own a piece of ground of my own. So depending on the conversation, my perspective can vary greatly. Sometimes I feel like I’m speaking from several of these perspectives at once. That is probably as confusing for me as it is for you.

But I’m getting better.

In short, I feel like I’m still fresh enough to be an objective outsider, but just deeply rooted enough to be an informed insider. Perhaps what we need right now are more people with that sort of perspective. I have met many impassioned and deeply knowledgeable people across the spectrum of food and agriculture. But many of them don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of the big issues facing California farming. We need people who can bridge these gaps. It will take a lot of voices, so I’m offering mine.

It’s just one, but it’s the only one I’ve got.

January

Every year begins with citrus season. I can live without the Rose Parade, but a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice is a New Year’s morning essential.

Meyer lemons are great in the winter, but prices are not, since the San Joaquin Valley is in full production. We try to get onto the back side of the production curve, sending most of our fruit to market after prices start to climb back up. Selectively picking for local customers helps us manage our crop and generates a little cash flow early in the season.

Avocados are in season also, and demand tends to be good as retailers grow their stock in preparation for Super Bowl, often the largest avocado consumption day