Seeds of tradition

It's 8 on Saturday morning, and the Ave. is still asleep, exhausted from its Friday-night revels. The caravan of trucks and sports-utility vehicles creep onto the parking lot of the University Heights Center, engines humming softly. They have come from all over the state, as far away as Walla Walla and Port Angeles. Some have been up all night packing for the opportunity, knowing others would take their places in an instant given the chance.

As merchants pull out their canopies and set up their tables of merchandise, the colorful flowers and the smell of baked goods add a carnival-like atmosphere as the parking lot becomes transformed into a maze of tents and color for the U-District Farmers' Market.

By 9 a.m., shoppers armed with reusable cloth bags are lined up to buy the fresh produce and organic foods heaped on makeshift tables. In the center of urbanity, the few traditional farmers left in Washington state are having their heyday.

For many small farmers, markets like the one started in the U-District by UW alumnus Chris Curtis are a way to make a living.

From its humble beginnings in one corner of the University Heights lot in 1993, when 17 vendors came from all over the state to sell their wares, the farmers' market has become the largest in the state. On any given Saturday between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m., more than 5,500 acres of farmland are represented in the center of the state's largest city.

The market was Curtis' brainchild. After spending several years running a Haagen-Dazs ice-cream store on the Ave., Curtis and her husband decided to refocus their lives.

"My husband and I decided we would ... scale down, live a little more simply, not chase after ... money," Curtis recalled. Dressed in jeans and a bright orange jacket, she is an instantly recognizable figure, wandering from stall to stall with a clipboard in her hands, chatting with farmers and making sure they have everything they need. A silver chain and peace medallion hang from her neck.

"I wanted to take all that energy and put it toward a community event," she said.

The "community event" she thought up was modeled after the farmers' markets she had seen in California, where the markets were centered around the farmers.

"There aren't any crafts there, there isn't a flea market, there isn't a circus or a sideshow," Curtis said.

Food is the focus of the weekly markets. The farmers' market now includes cooking demonstrations from local chefs as well as a newsletter with farming advice.

The farmers benefit from the focus on their products. As the Puget Sound region becomes increasingly developed, the farmland that once produced most of the state's revenue has been carved up and sold to developers. Condominiums now stand in areas that were once open fields -- a sad trend, said Curtis.

"Most of these farmers are from Puget Sound," said Curtis. "Those of us who live in Puget Sound know how threatened the agricultural land and open space is. One of the reasons we live in Puget Sound is that we can drive out to the country and see the pretty landscapes and open fields and some corn. Farmers are very good stewards of the land."

Small farmers also have to compete with corporations who buy products wholesale. For the few remaining farmers who attempt to support themselves in the old-fashioned way, farmers' markets are an important source of income. According to Curtis' statistics, the average vendor at the U-District farmers' market grosses $982 per market day -- a large payoff for any farmer.

Farmers who grow their own lettuce may be able to sell it wholesale at 15 cents per head, said Curtis. At the market, they can sell the same head directly to a customer for 10 times that amount.

While farmers often find it easier to sell their crops to wholesalers who harvest them using their own equipment and workforce, there is a pride that goes with producing and selling one's crops, said Charles Creech, who sells Holmquist Hazelnuts by the bag to eager market buyers.

The Holmquist family of Lynden has lived and worked on its 300-acre farm since the 1870s, Creech explained.

Originally dairy farmers, the Holmquists shifted their energy to cultivating hazelnut trees at the turn of the century. Today, the Holmquists have the largest family-owned hazelnut farm in the world.

"It's been handed down to them -- they kind of look at it as tradition," said Creech. "They feel somewhat of a connection with the earth ... they kind of turn up their noses to farmers who sell away their blood, sweat and toil."

Inside the market, a few rules apply: Everything must be grown and processed in Washington and farmers must be present some of the time to answer customers' questions about their food.

Although the people who rise with the sun to grab the freshest produce are typically older, Dylan Knutson, a California college student, sells the fish caught by his father and brother. This is a way for Knutson to provide a base for the next generation of farmers.

"I've grown up around the business and have started to take over some of it now," said Knutson. "If my brother wants to keep going with the business, I'm going to take over."