A CSA primer

Whenever I mention "belonging" to or having a "share" in a farm, people ask what that means. Or they think they know what it means, but are often wrong. Here's a little intro. First, CSA stands for Community-Supported Agriculture. In general, you pay a set amount of money for a share in the farm's yield. Not for a pre-determined amount of produce, but for a share of however much the farm produces throughout the season. From there, the details vary. The farm may or may not be organic. You may or may not be required to spend some time working in the fields, or picking your share of certain crops. You might go to the farm to pick up your share, or it might be delivered to you or to a pre-determined dropoff point. The crops grown at each farm differ, as do the size of the farms and the number of members in each.

As you might guess, the quality differs too. Some farmers are just, well, better at farming than others, and some are better at planning what and how much to plant in order to provide a good yield for the shareholders. It's a bit like buying a stock- you want a company with a good track record and a good business plan, but there's always a bit of risk involved. Weather, disease, and pests are tough to plan for, and sometimes yields just aren't what you'd hope.

For me, this all adds up to a fun challenge. What will we get this week? What will we do with it? How does one prepare kohlrabi/okra/stinging nettles? How much mizuna can I eat before my skin turns a nice dark shade of green? Do any of my gazillion cookbooks have a recipe for this stuff? I know I'm a dork, but each time we drive up to the farm I get excited about seeing what produce we'll be taking home that week. Is the garlic ready yet? Is it time for the first bunch of basil? Did they get one more harvest of the lettuce crop? Do we get to pick raspberries this week? And as we drive home with our bags and cooler laden with goodies, I'm already planning a menu for the week, my husband is wondering how we'll possibly fit all this stuff in the fridge, and my toddler is quietly demolishing our precious pint of raspberries in the backseat.