Nestled in the oak-dappled hills along California's central coast, the Skinner family's Huasna Valley Farm has weathered its share of calamities. There was the time that deer got into the sweet corn and nibbled through three-quarters of the fruit trees. And the year that early frost killed off much of the lettuce. And the 22 nights in one month that farmer Ron Skinner was up tending sprinklers. Last May, when the weeds got out of hand, the Skinners e-mailed their customers that "heat, lack of sleep and exhaustion" had made them wonder, "How do we sustain ourselves and our love for farming and each other?"
That's hardly a question most American farmers would ask of the grocery chains or corporate middlemen that purchase their crops. But the Skinners are among a growing breed of producers dedicated to "community-supported agriculture." These CSAs, also known as subscription farms, sell shares of their harvest in advance directly to the consumer. They involve shareholder families through regular newsletters, potluck parties and even farm work. The lure is not just fresher, cheaper veggies but also a sense of belonging. Thus the Skinners' dismay didn't last. A score of shareholders showed up to weed. "When you help the people who grow your food, it is spiritually as well as physically nourishing," says Lisa Wallender, one of the volunteers.
From Alaska's Arctic Organics to West Virginia's Flying Ewe Farm, CSAs have sprouted across the nation. Call the trend antiglobalization writ small, a way to connect with neighbors, help small farms and combat the energy waste and pollution of hauling food long-distance. Also, CSAs tap into concerns over homeland security. Says Brian Halweil of the Worldwatch Institute, a Washington think tank: "Knowing your farmer brings peace of mind, especially in the face of terrorist threats to the infrastructure, and food-contamination recalls."
The CSA movement began in Japan some 30 years ago with a group of women alarmed by pesticides, the increase in processed food and their country's dwindling rural population. Their teikei--partnerships with local farmers through annual subscriptions--spread to Europe and the U.S. From a single Massachusetts CSA in 1986, subscription farms in the U.S. have boomed to about 1,200, some of them serving more than 1,000 families.
Although most American CSAs grow pesticide-free crops, many are not certified organic under federal standards; the paperwork is too cumbersome. Certified organics are increasingly produced by large industrial farms and shipped to U.S. supermarkets from as far away as China and New Zealand. Instead, "locally grown" is the new cachet--so much so that Whole Foods grocery stores now label their food by origin--California tomatoes vs. Mexican tomatoes. "People are taking the next step toward a wholesome ideal," says Guillermo Payet, founder of Localharvest.org a CSA website.