Even with virtually no grapes to be found, NorthBay biz finds three local family farms that have the will and the know-how to survive.
They came from exhausted, overcrowded land in Switzerland, Germany, Spain, the Azores and Japan throughout the 1800s and early 1900s. They saw the hard work of a farmer’s life in Napa, Marin and Sonoma counties as a golden opportunity. Others came from nearby, seeking to live their American dream as a family farmer in this beautiful, fertile land.
Today, most of those heritage family farms are gone, victims of rising land prices, far-flung competition and the lure of easier routes to success. What agriculture remains in the North Bay has shifted, nearly wholesale, to grapes. But some of the original farm families have hung on—and even learned to prosper—by adapting to changing circumstances.
What are the keys to survival as a small farmer today in the North Bay?
“Diversification and staying up with product trends,” says Carol Kozlowski-Every, whose parents established Kozlowski Farms in Sebastopol in 1949.
“A unique product,” says Don Gilardi of RedHill Farms, whose grass-fed lamb, raised on certified organic pasture, is served in some of the Bay Area’s most prestigious restaurants.
“A belief that money isn’t everything,” says John Hoffman of Napa’s Hoffman Farm, who turned to farming to fulfill a boyhood dream.
Oh, and it helps to go organic. Each of these farms is organic in practice if not by stringent certification rules.
Increasingly, marketing is crucial to the success of a small farm. When Carmen Kozlowski first decided to sell jam made from the farm’s berries, the marketing plan consisted of a handwritten sign by the road: Homemade Jam and Fresh Raspberries. Today, her daughter Carol travels the country promoting the Kozlowski line of 70 different jams, jellies, pies, vinegars, sauces and salad dressings, meeting with representatives from the largest supermarkets to specialty and independent grocers.
Gilardi credits his success to Marin Organic, the nonprofit co-op that promotes organic produce in Marin County. “By joining them for $50, I hired seven marketers,” he says. “I would never have made the connection to restaurants and markets that I have without them.”
Both of these family farms are flourishing.
An American archetype
John and Margaret Hoffman started small and stayed that way by choice. They joined the Napa County Farming Trails and hung its sign at 2125 Silverado Trail. It remains there today, even though the organization is now defunct as, one by one, small farms disappeared, until the Hoffmans were the only member.
Below the Farm Trails sign, John hangs a notice of what’s available: pears in August, walnuts in September and October, persimmons in December and a single tree’s worth of quinces one weekend each year. His retail store is a small shed that opens for business in August; here his pears, walnuts and other fruits are weighed on a 100-year-old antique scale that bears a certificate of accuracy. Some customers have been coming for 30 years.
Hoffman grew up in the Santa Clara Valley (“right in the middle of an apricot orchard”). His family wasn’t made up of farmers, but boyhood summers on a farm in Mendocino County pointed him toward his life’s work. When he graduated from high school in Mountain View in 1936, he headed to UC Davis and earned a two-year certificate of completion for a general agriculture curriculum.
It was the 1930s and, unfortunately, all the farms he applied to needed only farm laborers at “a dollar a day and room and board.” So Hoffman became a landscaper and arborist. He eventually settled in San Anselmo with his wife, Margaret, a Nebraska farm girl, and operated Hoffman’s Tree Service. On their one-third-acre property, they also raised vegetables, chickens, rabbits and milk goats. It was wartime, and meat was rationed. But you didn’t need a ration card to buy chickens and rabbits direct from the farm, and the Hoffmans did a brisk business.
In 1949, with three children, the Hoffmans began their search for a real farm. They focused on Napa Valley, where the alluvial soil and mild climate were ideal for agriculture. In those days, Napa Valley was known for its fruits and nuts, not grapes. He bought 23 acres along the Napa River from an Italian farmer who was retiring and going back to Italy. The land came with about three-quarters of an acre of Bartlett pears, which are still producing today, and lots of prunes, which were perhaps the biggest crop in those days.
With a Sunsweet plant right in Napa, it was an easy crop to get to market. So the Hoffmans harvested prunes and sold them to Sunsweet. Margaret contributed precious expertise from her farming background. She raised chickens and canned and preserved the farm produce. After a hot day of picking prunes, the whole family would go swimming in the Napa River behind their farm. It was hard work, but a good life.
The farm was able to support the family for some years. Then in the early 1950s, a bad year for prunes combined with the arrival of a fourth child meant “more outgo than income.” Like many farmers in those days, John went to work at Mare Island to make ends meet, and farmed part-time with the help of his wife and children. Later, the family moved to San Mateo and rented out the 1880s farmhouse, becoming weekend farmers.
With the closing of the Sunsweet plant in the 1960s, recalls Hoffman, a huge change was set in motion, as farmers began switching to grapes.
“I never had much interest in wine grapes,” he says. “I wanted a family farm. When we came here we had a cow; we grew lots of vegetables—almost all of our own vegetables—we had milk, eggs and a big chicken yard full of laying hens. Wine grapes are very labor-intensive. You need lots of capital to get started. I didn’t have any capital—I always relied on my own labor to get things done. I planted my own trees, grafted them myself and did my own cultivation. We hardly ever hired any help except for picking. Of course, the kids helped out a lot.”
Instead, Hoffman pulled out the prunes and planted walnuts. For a while, he also ran a licensed nursery on the property, and he still propagates trees from cuttings.
When he retired in 1980, Hoffman says, “I felt very strong and ready to go back to farming full time.” He cleared a section of land that had been pasture for his children’s 4-H animals and planted vegetables. He built a new house behind the old farmhouse (which is now occupied by his son, Andy).
Ten years ago, Hoffman switched to organic practices, though he’s not certified. “People appreciate that I no longer spray the crop,” he says. “They don’t mind a few worms in the apples.” Margaret, he quips, likes to say, “If you don’t have a worm in your apple, come here and I’ll put one in.”
Today, the Hoffmans are slowing down. The farm has been a “U-Pick” farm for 20 years. At 93 (Margaret is 90), Hoffman no longer raises vegetables for sale, and his son does most of the heavy farm work. Margaret still cans, bakes and offers delicious homemade cookies (“the only kind you’ll get here,” she says) to visitors. His oldest daughter has a vineyard just up the road. Hoffman devotes time to his favorite hobby: bonsai. He’s justifiably proud of the dozens of graceful miniature trees, some 30 years old or more, which adorn a nook in his garden.
John has written a book, Trees of Napa Valley, published as a fundraiser for the Master Gardeners and available for sale at http://groups.ucanr.org/mgnapa/Books. Margaret has written a book of poetry and short pieces, and their daughter, Marian Johnson, penned a history of the Hoffman farm.
A different kind of “factory farm”
In the same year that John and Margaret Hoffman began farming in Napa, Carmen and Tony Kozlowski purchased an apple farm in Sebastopol. Two years later, they added an adjacent farm at 5566 Gravenstein Highway in Forestville, where Kozlowski Farms is today. Farming was in Carmen’s blood; her parents, Florencio and Julia Lorenzo, were Spanish immigrants who purchased land and moved to Sonoma County in 1920 to grow apples, berries, cherries and grapes. A portrait on the retail store wall shows a 19-year-old Carmen, on a ladder, picking cherries on the family farm.
Tony grew up in Kansas, where farming was a part of everyone’s life. He moved to Santa Rosa in 1942, married Carmen six years later, and they began farming apples.
In 1968, they expanded the orchard with Gravenstein, Jonathan, Rome and Golden Delicious apples; later, they added Fujis and Galas. At the same time, Tony planted red raspberries, which need to be replanted every seven years, since it would take the apples that long to mature and yield a crop. The family still harvests 20 acres of apples at Carmen’s parents’ farm in Sebastopol and five acres in Forestville, but in 1999, bowing to changing economics, they replaced 20 acres of berries and apples with 16 acres of Pinot Noir grapes.
The Kozlowskis’ three children, Carol, Perry and Cindy, were instrumental to the farm’s success. At 16, Perry was driving the truck, Carol managed the berry farm, and Cindy was assigned to the retail store at age 13. The family tradition continues today, as all three siblings remain involved in the farm and business’ management. Perry manages the family farm, and two of Carmen’s grandchildren work full-time at the farm (all nine grandchildren have worked the family land at one time or another).
Early on, the Kozlowskis showed the genius that kept them in business when apple farming began to fail in Sebastopol. In 1952, Carmen began making pies and opened her first roadside stand on Gravenstein Highway. In the late 1960s, Carmen wanted a hobby, so she started making jams and jellies with her daughters. A sign went up by the road, and people began stopping in to buy the homemade goods and fresh fruit. They started with two 20-gallon pots, stirred with a big wooden paddle, on the old O’Keefe & Merritt stove in a portion of her husband’s workshop, which was turned into their first commercial kitchen. Today, the farm boasts a functioning food factory with three hot-tub sized stainless steel kettles and a conveyor belt that fills, seals and heats the bottles and then labels, dates and boxes them.
Kozlowski Farms makes all its 70-plus products—including vinegars, jams, jellies, marmalades, chutneys, mustards, fruit spreads and butters, sauces and salad dressings—on site. Today, a section of the kitchen is devoted to state-of-the-art ovens that can bake more than 120 pies at a time. A capacious freezer room holds frozen pies (for purchase or for baking later) and fresh frozen fruits and vegetables that will become Kozlowski Farms fare.
At 82, Carmen remains actively involved in the farm today.
The Kozlowski product line uses no high fructose corn syrup or partially hydrogenated oils—jams, jellies and pies are sweetened only with cane sugar. In 1990, the apple farm became one of the first certified organic apple farms in Sonoma County.
“By farming organically, we’ve gone back to the roots of farming,” says Carol. “You have to know your soil and nurture it to make sure it has the proper nutrients to sustain your crops. Soil tests are important so you can really know your soil. Our area, the Russian River Valley is known for its sandy loam soil.”
Recently, the farm launched Russian River Valley Organics by Kozlowski Farms, a new product line including salad dressings, jelly, lemon curd and jam. Before he switched to organic farming, says Perry, spraying would kill both the insect pests and their natural predators. Now, after years of organic methods, the natural predators have come back, keeping the pests in check with a little help from pheromones and other natural remedies.
Thanks to Carol Kozlowski’s tireless marketing efforts, you can find Kozlowski Farms products in independent grocery stores all over the North Bay including Andy’s Produce in Sebastopol, Pacific Markets, Oliver’s, Delano’s and United Markets in Marin County and Sunshine Foods in St. Helena, to mention a few. A more limited selection is available in Raley’s, Safeway and Lucky stores locally and in Safeway affiliates and other major chain groceries across the nation. A delivery route supplies fresh pies and products along a Northern California circuit. Many people order products through the website (www.kozlowskifarms.com), and its address is on every label. And of course, you can always drop in to the well-stocked retail store, which is open daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on their Forestville property.
Life has changed since Carmen Kozlowski first advertised her jams with a hand-lettered sign on Gravenstein Road. Apple orchards are giving way to vineyards, and most of the old farm families are gone. But with innovation and diversification, three generations of Kozlowskis continue to generate a lively income from the fruit of their labors.
The rebirth of RedHill Farms
Don Gilardi’s grandparents were dairy farmers. His family came with the wave of Italian and Swiss immigrants who established family dynasties in the dairy and cattle industries 100 years ago. The originally 800-acre farm—at 5225 Red Hill Road in Petaluma—has been in the family since 1917, making Don Gilardi the fourth generation there. Today, 400 head of Dorset, Suffix, Laccunne and Friesen sheep happily graze on some 80 acres in a beautiful, secluded valley.
Gilardi didn’t grow up on the farm. He lived with his mother, who raised sheep on a plot of land across from Casa Grande High School in Petaluma. Gilardi moved to the farm 10 years ago and, with his father, began repairing fences and thinking about what to do with the land.
Meanwhile, his mother began bringing her sheep to the farm—against his strenuous objections.
“It was always on a Sunday morning. I couldn’t stand them—I stunk like sheep,” says Gilardi. “One day, she said, ‘You’re going to take over the sheep,’ and I said, ‘No, I’m a real estate broker and a modular home builder, not a farmer. I’m not taking over the sheep.’”
After a bit of back-and-forth, his mother won out. The 15 sheep from his mother were the start of his flock.
Gilardi began going to agricultural conferences. At one point, a presenter urged him to decide whether sheep were a hobby or a business.
“I was like, ‘OK, I have enough hobbies. I need to turn this into a business,’” he recalls. His mother’s customers bought the first lambs. He had the land certified and joined Marin Organic. He recalls when Marin Organic representatives first came out to visit the ranch. Most of the sheep were at the neighboring McEvoy olive ranch doing weed control, and Gilardi had recently spread chicken manure from a friend’s chicken ranch all over the property.
“When they called and said they wanted to come out, I was like, ‘Oh, they couldn’t have come at a worse time!’ There was chicken manure all over the place, and they were walking around, and they were like, ‘Oh, this is so beautiful.’ The whole day, everything was wonderful, and I’m thinking, ‘These guys are crazy. They’re tree huggers; what did I get mixed up with?’”
On leaving, Helge Hellberg, the executive director of Marin Organic, turned to Gilardi and said, “Call me when you have a product. I’ll sell everything you have.”
When the lambs were ready for harvest, Gilardi called Marin Organic. Within 45 minutes, customers were calling. He’s sold out for two years running and expects to sell out again this year. Last year, he got a call from Joe Humphrey, chef at the highly regarded Murray Circle restaurant at Cavallo Point in Sausalito. Gilardi is especially proud that RedHill Farms lamb is now on the menu there.
RedHill Farms has the cleanest lamb available, says Gilardi. “Other ranchers are out spraying 2,4-D for the thistles, or they’re spraying Roundup, and the animals are eating all that.” Ironically, you won’t find star thistle at RedHill Farms. That’s because, left to their own devices, sheep will eat star thistle before it can flower. Gilardi leases his sheep to vineyards and orchards as well (see “Wooly Weedeaters”), where they efficiently turn such weeds into organic fertilizer. He also markets yarn and comforters made from their wool.
Gilardi’s two young children, Madisen and Austin, have the run of the ranch, and 160 white Leghorn free-range chickens provide eggs—and more fertilizer. His grandfather’s dairy barn stands waiting for Gilardi’s next project: milking the sheep to make cheese. His enthusiasm for his new calling is palpable—and shared by the farm community.
“I’m one of the youngest [farmers],” he says. “It’s a hard business. I’ve had people in this business just want to hug me. They’re so happy that somebody new is coming in and trying to make it work out.” You can find RedHill Farms online at www.redhillfarms.biz.
Recent studies have cast doubts on the efficiency and safety of today’s large-scale (and often very distant) farms. More and more consumers, concerned about where their food comes from, how safe it is, the global warming effects of its transportation and whether or not it’s genetically modified, are turning to local farmers as a matter of trust. So perhaps the small family farm, far from being the last vestige of a vanishing way of life, is actually the model for the next agricultural revolution.
