Posts Tagged ‘Sunshine Organic Farm’


Red and yellow onions drying in the front stall.

A sea of organic onions has washed up at the horse barn at Bee Heaven Farm. The onions  are laid out in two double rows on either side of the walkway, and one layer deep on tables in two of the stalls. The red spring onions still have their tops attached, and the big round yellow ones are topless. They are drying out so they can be kept longer in storage.


Farmer Arturo dropping off a million onions. Farm worker Luz in background. Photo by Margie Pikarsky.


Yellow onions drying in the back stall.

Farmer Arturo Gonzalez of Sunshine Organic Farm grew all these onions for the CSA. “So many onions, I don’t know what to do with them!” he told me. “I’ve been eating onions every day — onions with breakfast, lunch, and dinner and I still have too many onions!”

You can help Margie with her onion problem by grabbing some at the next summer offering. Just think — onion soup, caramelized onions (my favorite), dried onions, onions in omelets with fresh herbs — I could go on and on…

If you aren’t already, get on Farmer Margie’s mailing list so you don’t miss out on a single deal during the off season!


Sea of red spring onions.

Read Full Post »

Strawberry love


This conjoined strawberry came from Sunshine Organic Farm. Even though I handled it gently, it was so ripe that it bruised easily, and leaked bright red juices all over my hand. Doesn’t it look like a large moth, or perhaps a heart? Grown locally at Sunshine Organic Farm.

Read Full Post »

Arturo Gonzalez (wearing blue hat) points out a double row of Italian basil and sage growing among rows of tomatoes.

Good local food abounds in Redland, but you have to know where to look for it. One place is Margarita’s farm stand located on Krome Avenue. Earlier in the growing season, brother and sister owners Arturo and Maggie Gonzalez invited farmer Margie and her hard working crew for a tour of Sunshine Organic Farm, located right behind the stand, and for a completely locavore lunch.

The farm is certified organic, and Arturo has been growing heirloom tomatoes and other vegetables for several years. He was selling his vegetables at the stand, along with other locally grown produce and herbs.

Before we lunched, Arturo gave us a brief tour of his five acre field. Long rows of grape tomatoes, hanging in heavy clusters, stretched endlessly toward the back of his property. “All the tomatoes came in at the same time and ripened overnight,” Arturo complained. The vines produced more than he could sell, and a heap of rotten fruit lay on the ground. Abundance, thy name is tomato!

Farm intern Erinn kicked off her sandals and stomped around on the mess of overripe grape tomatoes. Squish squish!

Several rows of shaggy vines were loaded down heavily with colorful heirloom tomatoes — green zebra, yellow taxi, gold nugget, black cherry, and yellow cherry, to name varieties I recognized. In between rows of tomatoes grew double rows of basil and sage, both blooming with the sweetest aroma. Nearby were sweet long peppers, and those outrageous globular lavender and white eggplant with the romantic name of Rosa Bianca.

Madeleine chopped up frozen guanabana to make drinks for the guests.

After the tour, we gathered under a breezy overhang at the back of the farm stand. Madeleine, who works at the stand making batidos (fruits shakes) and juices, pulled out frozen chunks of guanabana (soursop), and made a thick white fruit drink in the blender with some added sugar and water. It was my first sip of guanabana (and I have no excuse why I waited so long to try it). It tasted a bit like banana, definitely not sour, certainly delicious.

Marinated fried tilapia waiting to get eaten. They didn’t have too wait long.

Nearby, a deep fryer full of vegetable oil heated up. On a table beside it was a large steel pan heaped with cleaned whole tilapia, which Arturo had marinated overnight with pepper and other spices. He gently eased fish one at a time into bubbling hot oil where they would swim until they turned a golden brown. He had sourced the fish from an aquaculture farm he discovered near Okeechobee.

Arturo offered Margie his heirloom tomato salad.

As the fish cooked, Arturo tossed fresh mild watercress grown by “the old Cuban guy down the road” with spring onion slices for a simple salad dressed lightly with olive oil, white vinegar and salt. “When I eat fried fish I gotta have a salad,” he said, making another one. He cut up a variety of different colored tomatoes picked at the peak of ripeness from the field just steps away. They were also dressed with just the right amount of oil, vinegar and salt. In the farm stand kitchen, Maggie made twice-cooked crispy tostones, fried patties made from locally grown plantains and brought them out piping hot, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside.

Erinn enjoyed the tilapia.

Farm intern Marsha dug in to the tostones.

As Arturo and Maggie cooked, we rounded up a collection of mismatched plastic outdoor chairs, and gathered in a semi-circle near the fryer. This was rustic dining at its best. We ate from paper boats on our laps, using fingers to pick at the fish, stabbed at salads with plastic forks. The fish was cooked to perfection, its white sweet flesh moist and tender, fried skin and fins golden brown and crispy crunchy. Dessert was thick slices of queso blanco (farmer’s cheese) topped with slabs of guava paste, maybe the only two things that weren’t local, but we quickly forgave that. The meal was fresh, simply and quickly prepared, and the most delicious thing I had eaten in a long time.

Margarita brought out a simple dessert made with cheese and guava.

Who needed overpriced craziness of SoBe dining when we had a fresh, delicious meal at our own locavore “pop up cafe” located near a busy country road, deep in the heart of where food comes from. As cool spring breezes whispered of new growth and possibilities, Arturo shared a dream of putting in water tanks and growing tilapia and watercress. Selling fried fish meals could come soon after that, permitted under a county ordinance passed last year. Hopefully by next winter’s growing season, locavores could drive down to the farm stand to buy heirloom tomatoes, and stay for a batido or a bite of fresh tilapia, relaxing at a shaded picnic bench. “Eat local and keep a family farmer in business,” somebody in our group said. Arturo laughed with delight. Yes, it’s really that simple.

Margarita’s Fruits & Vegetables
15585 SW 177th Ave. (Krome Ave.)
Redland FL 33187
Open 7 days a week, 9 am to 6 pm. Open all year. 

Margie crunched down on fried fish fins.

Read Full Post »