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Back Issues Summer 2007 FARMER BROWN FINDS A FARM
Back Issues Summer 2007 FARMER BROWN FINDS A FARM | FARMER BROWN FINDS A FARM |
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| Thursday, 14 June 2007 | ||||
Page 1 of 2  Farmer Will Scot - photo by Andrea Blum © 2007 Consider the black-eyed pea: a white legume with a black eye brought by ships from Africa to the West Indies and then to the American South, where it evolved into the bedrock of African-American cuisine-the foundation of soul food. From slaves to sharecroppers and finally to the family farmer, the historical trajectory of the pea is a parallel narrative to the people who grew and cooked them. Today, the African-American farmer is a part of a dying breed of American culture. Nationally, within the last 50 years, the number of black farmers has declined by 95 percent. Of the 76,500 farms in California, only 336 of them are owned by African Americans. Under the radar of even the most judicious Bay Area shopper, these farmers have remained unseen and their produce mostly untouched by their city kin. But to the credit of one inspired San Francisco restaurateur, Jay Foster, owner of Farmer Brown, this narrative arc might take a positive turn. Farmer Brown is an organic soul food restaurant in the Tenderloin district of San Francisco that sources much of its produce directly from African-American farmers and serves the best Fulton Valley fried chicken, cornbread, and southern greens you can find. Foster, who started Emmy's Spaghetti Shack and Blue Jay Cafe, opened Farmer Brown as a way to showcase the origins and quality of southern soul food and in his words, "to remind people that the root of our [African-American] culture is the farm and family." Fearing that the root of his history was going to disappear, he decided to seek out black farmers. "It hit me in the face," he said of the concept. "I found that this was my calling and what I had to do." Through David Roach and his non-profit organization, Mo' Better Foods in Oakland, Foster found his farmers at the Mandela Farmers' Market bringing farm fresh food to the inner-city doorstep. One of those farmers is Will Scott. I met him for the first time on a market day selling fresh black-eyed peas, okra, and greens from his modest stand on an Oakland sidewalk. Then I met him again at his five-acre farm off a flat, endless road outside of Fresno, where Hmong-owned farms and new developments dot the dusty landscape. Scott, 66, who is tall and lean with a salt and pepper beard, wears blue jeans, black boots, and a hardy straw hat to shade his eyes from the piercing sun, and seems to speak only as he hoes the weeds. His cadence is smooth and thoughtful. He leans on his tool for a pause, looking at the collards that have gone to seed, and tells me that farming has always been a part of his life: "My father was a sharecropper in Okalahoma," he said. "Then we came to Fresno to pick fruit and cotton. I grew up in the cotton fields going to the gin with my grandfather." He left farming early to go to school, then got drafted and went to Vietnam, "fighting for democracy for someone else without enjoying the same rights at home," he said calmly, referring to the struggles of the Civil Right Era. When he returned from the war, he worked as an engineer. Then, in the early 70s, he bought his first five acres, a red Massey Ferguson tractor, and slowly got back to the land. |
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