At the first of June I longed to make a pilgrimage to my youth and harvest something straight from the earth. So, of course, I began (as one should with all things organic) with a google search. “Pick your own strawberries
19454” turned up a cornucopia of local
farms. I decided, being somewhat lazy in my pilgrimage (a bit of an oxymoron, I know), to start with the most local of local growers. Yet, between you and me, we'll say it was my deep hunger to support my domestic farmer and a drive to break the spell of oil addiction that led to this decision to call a farm in close by Chalfont.
I got the answering machine (which sounded like a bonafide, old time, circa, eighty-something, answering machine). It explained that they didn't offer strawberry picking anymore, but their neighbors at Tabora Farms and Orchard (www.taborafarmandorchard.com) did. Soon, my husband and I found ourselves with a few dollars in cash, a giant blue bowl and well on our way to Tabora. Our journey took us past Peace Valley Park and Peace Valley Winery and finally to the farm.
When we pulled up, hanging baskets and fresh plants filled the atmosphere. A few men sat on some casual lawn furniture and ate lunch. We walked the path to the front door passed flowers in baskets and couples in rocking chairs, to enter a heaven of homestead culinary beauty.
Snag a friend, spouse, family member or enemy and make your way to Tabora. They have produce growing year round. Pick a season and, well, pick.You had your farm staples: Pies, cookies, muffins, cakes, jams, etc.; but beyond that there was a fully furnished deli and produce section. Roasted chicken, fruits, veggies, and even home made ice cream (rosemary flavored? I don't know. You try it and let me know.) filled the small building. The chipper girl at the register directed us to the strawberry field.
My husband would advise you first and foremost to not do as your tempted and plop right down in front of the first bunch of strawberries y
ou see and start picking. Rather, walk all the way to the back of the field and work your way to the front. Most people don't even make
it to the back of the field. There's plenty for the picking there. Another helpful hint? Don't bring a giant blue bowl. They hand out little containers there. I know what you're thinking, “I'll be waste conscious and bring my own giant bowl.”. Trust me, you'll never be able to stop picking. You think you can stop any time? Wrong. You'll be chasing the strawberry dragon all day. So, do yourself a favor. Use their containers. One giant blue bowl later; we made our way to the check out, where despite the meager cost of $1.50 per pound, we didn't have enough cash to cover our excursion. Good thing an aunt had discovered this community treasure long before us, had stopped in to grab a few items and offered to cover our tab.