John Stapleton/
THE Kurrajong Hills in the Hawkesbury River Valley on the north west fringe of Sydney has changed forever. Once a picturesque nook full of derelict orchards and run down market gardens, barely surviving as property developers circled, is now booming as the “slow food” and “eat local” movements take hold. Consumers are now aware of terms like “food miles” and “hundred mile diets”.
THE Kurrajong Hills in the Hawkesbury River Valley on the north west fringe of Sydney has changed forever. Once a picturesque nook full of derelict orchards and run down market gardens, barely surviving as property developers circled, is now booming as the “slow food” and “eat local” movements take hold. Consumers are now aware of terms like “food miles” and “hundred mile diets”.
The Kurrajong Hills and the Richmond Windsor area in which it lies, originally called Sydney’s bread basket and now commonly known as Sydney’s food bowl, was established by Governor Lachlan Macquarie in the late 1700s. It suffered through much of last century from the ever rising costs of farming and intense competition from supermarkets. A traditional way of life was dying.
Not anymore.
It is a story repeated around the country, farms which were poverty stricken only a few years ago are now booming as tourist buses and four wheel drives pull up in front, full of people willing to pay well for fruit picked directly from the trees behind.
It is a story repeated around the country, farms which were poverty stricken only a few years ago are now booming as tourist buses and four wheel drives pull up in front, full of people willing to pay well for fruit picked directly from the trees behind.
Farmer John Maguire, 71, has been a leader in the transformation to direct selling to the public. Twenty years ago his orchard was facing bankruptcy. Every year, going through the “soulless” experience of selling into Sydney’s major fruit and vegetable market at Flemington, his financial situation went backwards.
Now his orchard is planted with a wide variety of fruits and the cafe and shop at the front of his property are rarely empty.
His family’s love of the property Enniskillen Orchard, with its views across the rich flood plains of the Hawkesbury, spurred Maguire to fight for its survival.
Suburbia was only a few minutes drive away and it seemed to Maguire, 71, that, typical of other orchardists and market gardeners in the area, his clinging to what seemed like an ancient way of life was doomed to failure.
Forlornly, believing there was no financial or practical way he could stay on at his beloved farm, Maguire used to drive down to Windsor on the flood plains for monthly meetings with a small group of councillors, landholders, town planners and bureaucrats, all concerned about the future of the area.
Academics spoke poetically about the need to maintain the rural character of our urban fringe. Town planners spoke of the need to maintain the district’s character against the ever sprawling tide of suburbia. Councillors spoke of the need to attract tourists to one of the state’s most beautiful but unexplored regions, right on the footsteps of the state’s capital.
And the landholders themselves spoke despairingly of their love for their crumbling properties, their desperate desire to cling to the farms that had been home to their families for generations and the impossibility of making a living out of orchards and market farms.
How times have changed.
The meetings he used to attend were the forerunner of the now successful Hawkesbury Harvest, a group of restaurants, farmers, tour operators and bed and breakfasts which run amongst other things the “Harvest Trail”, a recommended route which encourages both Sydneysiders and international tourists to discover an idyllic rural enclave on the edge of the country’s largest city. As a concept, the farmgate trail has taken off. Farmers markets, including a new one at Rouse Hill in Sydney’s west this month, are also part of the phenomenon.
The meetings he used to attend were the forerunner of the now successful Hawkesbury Harvest, a group of restaurants, farmers, tour operators and bed and breakfasts which run amongst other things the “Harvest Trail”, a recommended route which encourages both Sydneysiders and international tourists to discover an idyllic rural enclave on the edge of the country’s largest city. As a concept, the farmgate trail has taken off. Farmers markets, including a new one at Rouse Hill in Sydney’s west this month, are also part of the phenomenon.
“We get overseas tourists virtually every day on busses; and they are stunned at the beauty of this place,” Maguire said. “We have fashioned this place to the changing tide. We have a dozen different varieties of apples growing here; we have very early peaches and nectarines; some of which are old fashioned and still retain the old fashioned taste. “We can have some daggy looking varieties, of peaches in particular, but you give the customer a taste and they’re sold.
“Barely a day goes by without people commenting that the normal fruit they buy looks far better than it tastes. Here the fruit is literaly taken from the tree to the shop; some of the varieties don’t travel well but people love buying them. Rasberries don’t travel well, figs don’t have a long shelf life, but both are the big fashion fruits of the moment. There is a great demand.”
Maguire said the “eat local” trend was the result of urbanisation. “People are starting to wake up to the fact that humankind does not live by cemented land alone and that food doesn’t just come off a supermarket shelf.
“Part of this is that it is an experience,” Maguire said. “A lot of young children haven’t had anything like it before. They walk into our place and it is pretty well foreign to them. There’s no concept of where the fruit comes from and what is entailed in growing it.”
The “eat local” phenomenon, backed up by the American “100 mile diet” craze and increasing concern about “food miles”, has become not just an anti-globalisation political statement about supporting individual farmers over corporate chainstores, or even a diletante’s preference for fruit that has not spent months in cold storage.
The “eating local” and “food miles” campaigns have become controversial fashion statement; with debate raging over whether the carbon footprint of locally produced food is higher or lower than imported produce. Some British supermarkets have taken to labelling the food miles on theirp products.
The book which started it all, The One Hundred Mile Diet, by the movements founders Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon, explores the Canadian couples often humorous exploits and the lengths the authors went to in order to source all their food within a defined range and their cravings for items, such as chocolate and coffee, that prove difficult to source in the 100 mile radius from their Vancouver home. A food item in North America typically travels more than 1500 miles from farm to plate and the diet has been argued as a way individuals can decrease their carbon footprint and do their bit to save the planet from global warming. The idea has spread to many communities across North America, and is now taking hold in Australia.
An ABC journalist, ABC rural reporter Kim Honan became a “locavore” for a month, sourcing everything she ate and drank to the 100 mile – 160 kilomere – radius. You can follow her exploits, from initial starvation to a journey of discovery at local delights, on the ABC’s website. As observers have noticed, living in Coffs harbour was particularly fortuitous; she could drink coffee and wine sourced locally, not to mention oysters, lobsters, corn-fed chicen – and of course there was no shortage of bananas. But there was no chocolate and no fresh crusty bread.
Ian Knowd, from the School of Social Sciences at the University of Western Sydney, one of the founding members of the Hawkesbury Harvest, said he was originally interested in the possibility of tourism saving dying farms on the urban fringe. It has dovetailed neatly with a public’s growing concerns about lifestyle diseases and the impacts of their own consumerism; with an almost spiritual movement to connect with the land.
“From the farmer’s point of view it was about more direct market channels and therefore keeping more of the profits,” he said. “From the consumers’ end it was about picking something fresh. And being able to lay your eyes on the producer and ask him questions about how they produce it, all of the stories that go with food production, the “agri-culture” stuff.
“Hawkesbury Harvest is about rebuilding the local food economy and networks. People were saying that with urbanisation these farms couldn’t produce viably anymore. It is very difficult for small farms to survive in the current market.
“Fortunately there is a growing awareness amongst consumers about health and nutrition issues of food; and their concerns about what the central food system does to food.
“Harvest is exploiting this food consciouness trend, which is why the new farmer’s markets are emerging.”
Hawkesbury Harvest is also tying into the slow food movement, having just started a Convivium.
“The slow food movement is similar to the eat local movement, it is about appreciating how food is produced, handled, prepared, cooked and consumed; it is a more holistic, almost spiritual experience.
Hawkesbury Harvest is also tying into the slow food movement, having just started a Convivium.
“The slow food movement is similar to the eat local movement, it is about appreciating how food is produced, handled, prepared, cooked and consumed; it is a more holistic, almost spiritual experience.
“It is about appreciation of food, not just consumption. It has some quite profound elements to it.
“What is the regional food culture; and what is the connection between that and other cultural aspects of the community. It is about undersanding human communities through their food.
“What is the regional food culture; and what is the connection between that and other cultural aspects of the community. It is about undersanding human communities through their food.
“It is not about saving money, it is about spending enough money to ensure the producer gets a fair return for their effort and the quality of what they produce. It’s about being connected to the landscape that produces your food. There is an ehtical dimension.
“It is not the lunatic fringe in the farming community. These people were and are mainstream, they are making the tourism thing work for them.”
Ian Ryall, Canberra’s Convivium Leader for the Slow Food Movement, said involvement with local producers and understanding the orgins of food was integral to the increasingly popular movement. It began in Italy in the 1980s as a reaction to the fast food culture. “Slow food helps people rediscover the joy of eating and the importance of caring where their food comes from,” he said. “We encourage the use of local and regional products that are `good, clean and fair’. We believe in making connections with the growers and producers, understanding the enthusiasm and passion they bring to growing their product and how that translates into the quality of the product.”
Food and Wine Coordinator with the Hawkesbury Harvest Carol Layton they were advocating for local growers and creating a connection between the community and growers through events like Farmers Markets, conviviums and the farmgate trail.
“It helps the growers to stay solvent,” she said. “They are up against the central markets; the big super markets which fix the prices. If they can go to the farmers market or deal directly with the public at the farmgate it gives them a chance to educate the public and to make a decent living. I think people, even the most unaware people are aware of food miles today. They want to know where their food is made and how it is made.”
Ms Layton said the trend towards local and regional produce was exemplified by the success of farmers markets around the world.
Ms Layton said people were increasingly fed up with supermarkets and the soulless tasteless fruit and often old that they sold.
“You can go to a farmer’s market and and know the fruit’s been picked the day before,” she said. “We have farmers growing peaches or plum varieties which don’t have a long shelf life; and they were dying out because supermarkets can’t take them.
“As life gets more frantic there is a need to reconnect with the real world; where fruits are grown and you talk to a farmer, where you eat food that has been picked the day before. where you are in touch with the more natural rhythms of life.”