He complains his way through much of the book… About not being accepted by the other farmers in his area. Stark’s stories are about farming in the 20th/21st century, with its ups and downs, gains and losses. This isn’t Garrison Keillor or some heartwarming pioneer family mini-series on the Hallmark Channel. And being a farmer isn’t the easiest job out there these days. What makes these anecdotes matter is that, in addition to being a damn good writer, Stark sees himself as a farmer. (There’s a whole archive of articles that didn’t make the cut over at ). It’s no more or less than what the title claims – a mishmash of anecdotes put together from 14+ years of farming without chemicals in Pennsylvania and selling the produce in Manhattan. Heirloom: Notes from an Accidental Tomato Farmer is not an account of his journey from PA to Brooklyn and back again. His tomatoes have made him a favorite of chefs throughout the city.
But what he grows on those 2 acres get shipped every week to the Union Square Greenmarket in NYC. “Farm” is putting it generously – he has 2 acres dedicated to growing which, by his own account, he does not own. He started growing his tomato seedlings under florescent lights in a Brooklyn apartment and after getting booted by his landlord took them home to the family farm in Pennsylvania. Take my word for it, Pennsylvania is a primo spot for tomato growing. We refer to my 6 x 9 foot patch of produce as “the heart of darkness” and a chicken wire fence is all that stands between us and it.
Once those bad boys start sprouting all bets are off. Carrots, bush beans, thyme, mint, rosemary, peppers, lavender, broccoli, eggplant… all manage to cohabit amiably until the tomatoes take over. The plants start from seeds in the sun room and by mid-July I have a small ecosystem to rival a Brazilian rainforest in the yard. Every year since owning my own home I’ve grown vegetables in the backyard.
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