From rough stalls in farmer’s markets to five-star restaurants and upscale specialty food stores, heirloom fruits and vegetables are being embraced by consumers willing to pay for “real food that often tastes better than it looks.
“When a customer complains that our heirlooms are cracked or wrinkled, I say, ‘They’re just like people,’ says Jim Butera of Draeger’s in Los Altos, Calif., who has been buying antique tomatoes, apples and eggplant from local growers for about five years. “Some of us have freckles; some have dimples. You’re dealing with Mother Nature and that’s the way it is. None of this stuff comes off a factory assembly line.
To prove his point, the produce manager will cut open a Brandywine or Cherokee Purple and offer samples to the skeptic and any other shoppers standing nearby. “That’s how you create sales, he says. “Once customers try them, they like them. Though heirloom tomatoes still represent a tiny percentage of produce department volume, Butera says his sales are increasing by 25% a year. The price: $3.99 to $5.99 a pound.
What Are Heirlooms?
Defining heirloom fruits and vegetables is no easy task. Some gardeners say the plant must have been introduced at least 50 years ago, while others believe varieties should be 100 years old to qualify. Sometimes today, even newer varieties may be considered heirloom if they possess a unique look or taste.
While farmer’s markets offer a few vine-ripened antiques such as Brandy-wine, Lemon Boy or Green Zebra, Iowa-based Seed Savers Exchange counts 4,500 heritage tomatoes in its collection of 12,000 seeds. The nonprofit organization is credited with nurturing our interest in these “handed-down varieties since it launched in 1975.
Many heritage seeds were brought from Europe by our great grandparents and passed from generation to generation in backyard gardens. The Amish, Mennonites and Native Americans have been particularly vigilant in collecting and saving the tiny pellets, which hold and preserve our food history. “Growers and gardeners all over the world buy them, says Seed Savers’ spokesperson Tara Zuck. “And the results often make their way into farmer’s markets.
In contrast to these heirlooms, commercial fruits and vegetables are usually grown in assembly-line fashion and often have little taste. Yet in the shadow of terrorism and genetically modified organisms, the notion of feeding our families pure, old-fashioned fruits and vegetables that may help save small growers and precious farmland is appealing. Plus, for older customers, heirlooms recall a taste from childhood.
“The word heirloom today has several meanings, says Phil Myers, merchandise director of the Hanover Consumer Cooperative Society in Hanover, N.H., which buys heirloom produce from about 15 local farmers. “A lot of times heirloom means local, a lot of times it means organic and a lot of times it means the small-scale farmer who’s more interested in taste. All these things combine to make a better-tasting product that’s ringing true with a lot of customers.
Steven Rosenberg, chief eating officer of Liberty Heights Fresh in Salt Lake City, grew up on a fruit farm in southwest Michigan. “We didn’t call them heirloom varieties then, he muses. “They were just the apples in the orchard. We also grew peaches like Suncrest, which are not as beautiful as today’s peaches but are blissful to eat. Yet they’re so delicate that traditional forms of transportation make it nearly impossible to get them to the table. That’s why farmers stopped growing them.
To bring customers these tastes, Liberty Heights Fresh buys heirloom fruits and vegetables from local farmers in season and air-ships other produce, from leafy greens to Blenheim apricots, directly from growers in California, Oregon and Washington. Rosenberg has even planted an heirloom garden on the front lawn of the company’s office adjacent to the store.
“Our customers are willing to pay for these items as long as they deliver taste, he says. “We’re conditioned to expect cheap food, yet peaches at 69 cents a pound are not really peaches. A great peach should be $3 to $4 a pound. That’s what it takes to pick it at peak ripeness knowing that, out of 40 peaches in a box, you may have to throw away six or eight or make cobbler with them. But the rest will be peaches with passion and pleasure.
On the Rise
The current crop of heirlooms can be attributed to organic farmers who began experimenting with old varieties in the 1980s and early 1990s, whether as a hobby or as a way to earn more money. Chefs, always on the lookout for tantalizing new tastes to give them a competitive edge, discovered the oddballs in local farmer’s markets and rushed back to their kitchens to play. Soon, heirloom tomato salads appeared on menus in a riot of colors and dainty roasted fingerling potatoes snuggled up to steaks and roasts.
“Serving heirlooms reinforces the boutique nature of my restaurant because things are handmade here and hand-grown by somebody else, says Chef/Owner Chris McDonald of Avalon, a top Toronto restaurant supplied by Soiled Reputation, an organic farm near Stratford, Ont. “If a customer gets a yellow carrot, they might actually stop and consider its flavor. Buying the pricey produce also affects the preparation. McDonald adds, “If the cooks see a farmer bringing in vegetables that they know are special, they treat them with more respect in the kitchen.
After tasting these treats in restaurants and watching Food Network chefs prepare them, consumers are now eager to enjoy heirlooms at home. “We’ve seen growth of about 125% in the five years since we introduced our fingerlings, says Robert Schueller, assistant marketing director for Melissa’s in Los Angeles, a major supplier of specialty produce.
Although some fingerlings are grown year-round, the strongest demand falls between Thanksgiving and Christmas, adds Schueller. From late May to early September, Melissa’s also carries eight to 10 varieties of California-grown heirloom tomatoes, which are challenging to ship east.
Marketing Heirlooms
“Heirloom tomatoes are like kiwi fruit, insists Chris Masiero, co-owner of Guido’s Fresh Marketplace in Pittsfield, Mass. “Twenty years ago, when you put a kiwi fruit on the shelf, people squeezed it and walked on. Then the customer got educated and the kiwi became an American staple. I think heirloom produce is slowly becoming that way. People taste, then buy.
With a limited growing season, smaller yields, questionable looks and the challenges involved in long-distance shipping, we may never see heirlooms year-round, although Schueller reports that Mexico has entered the market.
Specialty store owners agree that carrying these items, even seasonally, gives them a distinct marketing advantage over traditional supermarkets.
“We absolutely use the word heirloom on our signs, says Masiero. “Everyone recognizes how hard it is to grow them, to save the seeds and continue the process. It’s something you want to highlight. Especially for his best customers, New York foodies vacationing in the Berkshires, who gladly pay $5.50 for a plastic clamshell filled with up to two pounds of locally grown heirloom tomatoes in different colors and shapes.
While tomatoes and fingerling potatoes may be the best-known heirlooms, Phil Myers provides his New Hampshire customers with a dozen vibrant heirloom winter squash, including Orangetti, Hokkaido and Rouge Vif d’Etampes. Each squash comes with a card explaining its history and how to cook it. He’s most proud, however, of the Hubbardston, Ashmead's Kernel and Esopus Spitzenbergs (Thomas Jefferson’s favorite) he buys from Poverty Lane Orchards down the road, the same apples New York shoppers purchase at Dean & Deluca.
“In the fall, everyone’s seen the same old apples, says Myers. “When people see we have 14 varieties, they’re excited. We might even sample eight or 10 apples at once. We’re providing the customer with different products and new tastes and educating them to judge a product beyond how it looks.
In the end, heirloom produce may be good not just for their flavor and novelty but for the soul as well.
Cynthia David is the former food editor for the Toronto Sun. She writes for Food & Drink, The Globe and Mail and Canadian Living.
