This story is about Bellevue Farmers Market's visit to Alvarez Organic Farm in Mabton, WA. BFM is committed to bringing you quality food from reliable sources, so part of our work involves occasional visits to our vendors at their farms. We also share these profiles so you have insights into the motivations, challenges, and triumphs our partners experience. Alvarez is a trusted and popular farm that has been selling at BFM for ten years.
After a night of camping in Ellensburg, and another 75 minutes of driving, my family reaches Alvarez Organic Farm. Pulling into the driveway, there are many vehicles in view: several cars, a few trucks, and a couple of tractors. Produce boxes and crates are both piled high and strewn about. Sam, the vibrant and smiling human that comes to our market each week, emerges from a home on the property, carrying her sweet baby daughter.
A bit past the house, I notice two trees and lots of plant matter between them. It's the remnants of a garlic processing session when family and staff came together to prepare braids. My daughter and son scamper off to join Sam's two sons, joyfully playing and climbing trees in hopes of petting a shy barncat.
Mr. Alvarez appears, shirt buttoned askew, smile on his face, and a brimmed cap that reads, "Center for Latino Farmers." He is Sam's father-in-law and the founder, owner, and lead of this operation. Our group of BFM staff and board members are led to a field a few hundred feet away, and Mr. Alvarez silently begins harvesting peanut plants in front of us while Sam narrates. She tells us how many people have never seen a peanut plant before, how often they are thought to be tree nuts. Mr. Alvarez breaks one open and encourages us to sample. "Like a raw green pea," he says. And I can taste it. My kids have rejoined our party, and I hand the slightly crunchy nut flesh to them; they are intrigued, but not delighted by the taste.
Neighboring the peanut plants are okra. A board member asks what plant is next to this okra. But it's just a weed. Truth is, weeds are everywhere; life is everywhere here. It is a very welcome change after the yellowed fields and smoky skies between Ellensburg and past Yakima. Sam tells us a story: To keep the weeds and pests down, one of Mr. Alvarez's sons had suggested organic sprays that would still allow them to maintain their USDA certification. He denied this outright, responding, "We've been growing this way for thousands of years. Why would I do anything different now? One harvest goes to me, one goes to mother nature."
We head deep into the land now, past a masked and gloved harvester to whom I wave. There is so much life here. We stumble on roots upon roots and brush our hands against the many tall leaves. Entering the field of peppers, with a childlike grin, Alvarez steps from plant to plant and offers a cutting from at least 12 varieties. He is warming up to us, and soon shares with us directly rather than Sam acting as sole guide and storyteller. We learn that some of his hot varieties are unique to his farm alone. When the children in our group stumble, he is tender with them and warns them of the prickly weeds. When cutting a new offering, he seeks to place the vegetables in their hands first before they pass them to us adults.
We circle the crops and head back to the cars, quickly jumping into our vehicles and heading to a property two minutes away. Total acreage for the farm is 100 acres, but it is more like 130 considering that some fields are planted more than once per year. Mr. Alvarez has his adult children set up on adjacent properties to oversee different parts of the growing operation. At this son's property, a dog named Pepper accompanies us until we park and then takes refuge in a shaded area. A similar process to the pepper plants ensues, with this gentle farmer walking down row after row and revealing a new type of eggplant. There are white ones, fat ones, long ones, pink ones, dark, small, on and on. I ask if he grows for specific types for specific customers, and he confirms this. On the farm as a whole, there are 450 varieties of plants.
Next up are potatoes. The children are invited to dig into the earth and discover them for themselves. Each pulled up purple and tan orb is a treasure that makes their eyes widen. Sam tells us about one variety that was indigenous to America that people are no longer growing. Alvarez Organic Farms seeks to continue these traditional vegetable varieties. It is in this field that we notice the tapes that provide irrigation to each specific plant. They choose to water this way, very intentionally, because water is so precious. Sam reminds us, "It is a lot more work upfront, but it is so worth it, especially in this part of the state."
The tour is almost complete, and we head back in the car toward a field with sweet potato plants that are prospering. Together, father and daughter-in-law dig up a very large specimen, and they beam with pride and belly laugh. They have a dear bond and an admirable, sweet way of relating to one another. We go to the neighboring zucchini field, and Alvarez hands us two gorgeous, lush bouquets of blossoms as a final parting gift. Our tote bags overflow from his generosity and abundant harvest.
By the parked cars, I want to ask a few more questions, beginning with if Mr. Alvarez always wanted to be a farmer. Sam answers for him, that his family had been farmers in Mexico. Alvarez has more to say, and it seems he is ready to take center stage. Yes, he is part of a farming lineage, but he possesses a personal pull to do the right thing. In a steady, precise voice recounts a story, "I remember the 1980s. People in California were dying from pesticides. I knew that I would never use that. I did not want my vegetables to poison people."
He shares his journey to becoming a certified organic farmer, using special grants to transition farm land and concentrating on generations-old practices. At Pike Place Market, he used to sell the produce himself and he became an educator to his customers about what organic means and why it matters. Sam joins in again, and she tells us that Mr. Alvarez is always a leader in this regard. This farm is one of the biggest suppliers of produce for WA state food banks. She also adds, "There are so many families in this area involved in agriculture, but the local school food is terrible. It is truly an injustice. And he tries to help by donating produce to them."
Our conversation continues for another ten minutes. The children play in the dirt while we learn about additional challenges Alvarez Organic Farms face. These are similar to stories shared by other BFM vendors. Customers are discouraged by the prices sometimes and are not aware of the efforts involved in food production. Additionally, staffing on farms in WA has been difficult for years, and the COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated these issues.
As we say our farewells and divide into our vehicles, I think of the long drive home. I sigh, and I am humbled. I consider how the entire Alvarez family is involved in this farming endeavor: from the physical field labor, to backend business, to dividing days between east and west sides of the Cascades, ensuring that food gets to markets, groceries, and restaurants for the people. I think of Mr. Alvarez and his decades-long devotion to creating a farm that is grounded in ancestry, ethics, and biodiversity. And I think of Sam, who is always smiling and chatting with customers at our Bellevue market, even though she may not get to return home to Mabton until Saturday night. And I am grateful that I will get to share their story.
Written by Liz Paruchuru, BFM Market Engagement Manage
