Home
News
ENLARGE
SUMMIT COUNTY — Wildernest resident Chris Brower isn't making millions off Uncle John's Farm Stand — the local roadside produce business he and his wife Suzanne opened five summers ago — but he gets to fill his belly every day with the cream of Colorado's crops.
Several days a week, Brower starts up his truck at the crack of dawn and heads west about 200 miles to Palisade — a quaint agricultural town in the shadow of the Grand Mesa, brimming with cherries, peaches, hot peppers, tomatoes or grapes, depending on the month. Brower bumps down dirt roads in the dry summer heat, making his rounds among small farms and orchards whose owners often tailor their plantings to the farm stands' needs.
Once his truck and trailer are overflowing with just-picked, perfectly ripe fruits and vegetables, Brower is back on the road, zooming east to deposit the day's finds at the two Summit County stands — one at the entrance to Frisco Marina, the other at the Silverthorne Town Center — just in time for evening customers to snatch them up by the armful and pile them on plates for that night's dinner. But some of the plumpest specimens end up in Brower's own kitchen.
“I like to take the crazy-big zucchinis, scoop out the middle, put in some parmesan cheese, tomatoes and spicy sausage and throw it in the oven,” Brower said. “We get our pick of everything we bring in. When I'm out in Palisade, farmers say, ‘Hey, take some of this, and try that.' It's pretty neat.”
Brower's relationship with agriculture goes all the way back to his youth in Michigan. He grew up surrounded by animal husbandry, and as a kid he would often spend summer days baling hay. Those days began in the cornfield, though, where he would pick enough corn to set by the side of the road.
Passing motorists were on their honor to drop a dollar in an old coffee can for every dozen ears.
Brower, now 44, moved to Summit County in 1988 and found work in local restaurants. His connection to food remained strong as he cultivated friendships with chefs, cooks and restaurant owners. Twelve years ago, he met Suzanne, who deepened his interest in the path from farm to table.
“My wife has always been really health conscious. She was a vegan for a little while. I was even a vegetarian for awhile. We got really interested in the local food movement and where our food comes from,” Brower said.
When the couple decided to start a family, their concerns about modern agribusiness became more salient. They didn't feel comfortable with the idea of nourishing a child with genetically modified rice, apples shipped from the Southern Hemisphere, or beef that originated from a jam-packed feed lot laced with antibiotics.
“We got concerned about that kind of thing, and we decided to feed our kids organic food whenever possible to give them as much of a boost as we could,” Brower said.
Not too long after, a pregnant Suzanne was selling organic Colorado produce at stands in Gypsum and Farmer's Korner while her husband forged relationships with Palisade farmers. Now in its sixth summer, the business has about doubled, as has the family. And 4-year-old Sophie Brower knows exactly where her food comes from.
“I've learned a lot about how to run a business, and a lot about what it takes for farmers to survive. It's not an easy lifestyle, but they take a lot of pride in what they do. They're a lot like us — work hard, play hard.”
Brower said his customers' learning curve has been just as important as his own. Most Americans are used to walking into a supermarket and being able to buy any manner of produce, regardless of the season.
“A lot of people are very disconnected with their food. They don't understand that their grapes come from Chile in the winter or that U.S. farmers really took a hit when apples started coming here from New Zealand in the ‘80s. We have people who come to the stand in June wondering where the tomatoes are. We didn't realize we were going to be in the education business.”
As the local food movement and Brower's customer base have grown, shoppers' awareness has too. Many who visit Uncle John's Farm Stand now know that it's worth waiting till late-June for an apricot that's as sweet as a spoonful of jam, and that the luscious Colorado peaches that arrive in mid-July are a completely different experience than the baseball-textured, green-tinged ones trucked in from California in May.
Local restaurateurs are also hopping on Brower's bandwagon. In addition to filling up the farm stands, he's fortifying professional kitchens with Colorado's bounty. He unloaded 50 pounds of organic Poblano peppers at Hacienda Real in Frisco last month. Last week, he gathered fruit wood chips from the prunings of Palisade's orchards and delivered them to local eateries for use in their barbecue smokers. He's even supplying cherries to Pug Ryan's Brewery for a Baltic porter due out later this summer.
Those small successes built on relationships with growers, chefs and brewers strengthen the local community as well as Colorado's small farmers, Brower says. And while he's not naive to the challenges of doing business that way, he thinks it's worth the effort.
“With things like the Gulf oil spill, people are realizing that a lot of these big corporations are driven by profit above anything else. I don't think that's socially responsible.
“I really enjoy driving out to Palisade, stopping and hearing the local gossip. There are all kinds of people, from the ultraconservative ones to the back-to-the-earth hippy crowd. The one thing they have in common is that they are passionate about growing food.”
Several days a week, Brower starts up his truck at the crack of dawn and heads west about 200 miles to Palisade — a quaint agricultural town in the shadow of the Grand Mesa, brimming with cherries, peaches, hot peppers, tomatoes or grapes, depending on the month. Brower bumps down dirt roads in the dry summer heat, making his rounds among small farms and orchards whose owners often tailor their plantings to the farm stands' needs.
Once his truck and trailer are overflowing with just-picked, perfectly ripe fruits and vegetables, Brower is back on the road, zooming east to deposit the day's finds at the two Summit County stands — one at the entrance to Frisco Marina, the other at the Silverthorne Town Center — just in time for evening customers to snatch them up by the armful and pile them on plates for that night's dinner. But some of the plumpest specimens end up in Brower's own kitchen.
“I like to take the crazy-big zucchinis, scoop out the middle, put in some parmesan cheese, tomatoes and spicy sausage and throw it in the oven,” Brower said. “We get our pick of everything we bring in. When I'm out in Palisade, farmers say, ‘Hey, take some of this, and try that.' It's pretty neat.”
Brower's relationship with agriculture goes all the way back to his youth in Michigan. He grew up surrounded by animal husbandry, and as a kid he would often spend summer days baling hay. Those days began in the cornfield, though, where he would pick enough corn to set by the side of the road.
Passing motorists were on their honor to drop a dollar in an old coffee can for every dozen ears.
Brower, now 44, moved to Summit County in 1988 and found work in local restaurants. His connection to food remained strong as he cultivated friendships with chefs, cooks and restaurant owners. Twelve years ago, he met Suzanne, who deepened his interest in the path from farm to table.
“My wife has always been really health conscious. She was a vegan for a little while. I was even a vegetarian for awhile. We got really interested in the local food movement and where our food comes from,” Brower said.
When the couple decided to start a family, their concerns about modern agribusiness became more salient. They didn't feel comfortable with the idea of nourishing a child with genetically modified rice, apples shipped from the Southern Hemisphere, or beef that originated from a jam-packed feed lot laced with antibiotics.
“We got concerned about that kind of thing, and we decided to feed our kids organic food whenever possible to give them as much of a boost as we could,” Brower said.
Not too long after, a pregnant Suzanne was selling organic Colorado produce at stands in Gypsum and Farmer's Korner while her husband forged relationships with Palisade farmers. Now in its sixth summer, the business has about doubled, as has the family. And 4-year-old Sophie Brower knows exactly where her food comes from.
“I've learned a lot about how to run a business, and a lot about what it takes for farmers to survive. It's not an easy lifestyle, but they take a lot of pride in what they do. They're a lot like us — work hard, play hard.”
Brower said his customers' learning curve has been just as important as his own. Most Americans are used to walking into a supermarket and being able to buy any manner of produce, regardless of the season.
“A lot of people are very disconnected with their food. They don't understand that their grapes come from Chile in the winter or that U.S. farmers really took a hit when apples started coming here from New Zealand in the ‘80s. We have people who come to the stand in June wondering where the tomatoes are. We didn't realize we were going to be in the education business.”
As the local food movement and Brower's customer base have grown, shoppers' awareness has too. Many who visit Uncle John's Farm Stand now know that it's worth waiting till late-June for an apricot that's as sweet as a spoonful of jam, and that the luscious Colorado peaches that arrive in mid-July are a completely different experience than the baseball-textured, green-tinged ones trucked in from California in May.
Local restaurateurs are also hopping on Brower's bandwagon. In addition to filling up the farm stands, he's fortifying professional kitchens with Colorado's bounty. He unloaded 50 pounds of organic Poblano peppers at Hacienda Real in Frisco last month. Last week, he gathered fruit wood chips from the prunings of Palisade's orchards and delivered them to local eateries for use in their barbecue smokers. He's even supplying cherries to Pug Ryan's Brewery for a Baltic porter due out later this summer.
Those small successes built on relationships with growers, chefs and brewers strengthen the local community as well as Colorado's small farmers, Brower says. And while he's not naive to the challenges of doing business that way, he thinks it's worth the effort.
“With things like the Gulf oil spill, people are realizing that a lot of these big corporations are driven by profit above anything else. I don't think that's socially responsible.
“I really enjoy driving out to Palisade, stopping and hearing the local gossip. There are all kinds of people, from the ultraconservative ones to the back-to-the-earth hippy crowd. The one thing they have in common is that they are passionate about growing food.”
