A Visit to Linnaea Farm

If you follow the road that runs along Gunflint Lake, past the turnoff that leads to the ferry, you will see a sign hanging from a tree that reads: lettuce, carrots, basil, peas, raspberries, cut flowers, elephant garlic, blueberries.

If you pull your car into the dirt parking lot here, you will find a farm stand stocked with fresh produce—shiny green cucumbers and zucchini, bunches of carrots in orange and purple, bountiful lettuces that look like bouquets, bags of crunchy green peas, mouthwatering raspberries and blueberries, and beans in yellow, purple, and green. These are the products of Linnaea Farm, an innovative farm and gardening program here on Cortes Island.



Each year Linnaea Farm welcomes ten students—from Canada, the US, and around the world—to participate in an eight-month program that teaches organic farming and permaculture. The students live on the farm, along with nine farm “stewards” who are year round residents. Together they work the farm, producing fruit and vegetables, meat and eggs to feed themselves and to sell to island residents and visitors. There is also an alternative children’s school at Linnaea, and in the summer, a teen camp.

Linnaea sits on a 315-acre land trust that includes 100 acres of forestry reserve and 30 acres of pasture as well as the farm and gardens. A species index has been taken, showing exactly what types of wildlife make this land their home—otter, mink, and beaver, among others—and is monitored to regulate the impact on the environment. In all ways, Linnaea strives to be in balance with the land.

I had long been interested in Linnaea Farm, having bought their products at the farm stand on previous visits. This time I was lucky enough to get a tour of the farm from farm steward Adam Schick, who took time out to show me around during what is the busiest time of Linnaea’s farming season.



Starting at the farm stand, we walk past student gardens. Each participant in the Linnaea program is given a garden plot of their own to tend, getting to choose what vegetables, fruits, and flowers they would like to plant. This gives them a greater sense of investment and responsibility responsibility. "The students know that they have to leave their gardens in good shape for the next person who inherits it," Adam tells me. The student gardens are a collage of different vegetables and flowers—from green beans and fava beans, to tomatoes, tomatillos, and sunflowers. There are squash, peas, and peppers, kale, chard, and hollyhocks, all in cheerful profusion.



Continuing on to the lower garden we pass the horse barn and pig house. Linnaea also keeps some cows, for dairy and beef, as well as chickens. These are used to feed the residents as well as sold to local families; the manure from these animals goes to fertilize the gardens and fields. There are bee boxes as well, though they are kept mainly for pollination purposes, not for honey.



Past the barns there is an apple orchard, planted nearly 100 years ago by the family that first homesteaded this land. A variety of different types of apples—including Winter Banana and Vanderpool Red—means the farm has apples nearly year round. There are also fig trees, peaches, and walnuts on the property.



Linnaea is a production or market garden, which means that almost all their produce is sold directly to the consumer, either at the farm stand or a weekly farmers’ market. “It’s like sharing your garden, rather than just being a producer,” says Adam. But along with the pleasure of connecting directly with those who will consume your produce, there is the challenge of marketing a product. “Being a market gardener you have got to sell your stuff,” says Adam. You’ve got to like people, to talk to people—you have to get excited about it, be a barker.”



One of the ways Linnaea does this is by offering unusual and colorful varieties of vegetables. A bag of green beans will include beans in three different colors—green, yellow, and purple; a bunch of carrots contains both orange and purple carrots. “You’ve got to make it exciting, appeal to people,” Adam explains. “Hook them with the looks; once they taste it, they’ll want to buy it again.”



Like all small and local farmers, Adam and the staff at Linnaea struggle with the desires of consumers who have lost touch with the seasonality of produce and farming. “People don’t understand seasons any more,” he laments, “they want year-round salad. Salad is great in the spring when the lettuces first come in. But by August, why not have a tomato and cucumber salad?”



Linnaea’s peak season is fairly short, from the end of May to mid-September. It conveniently coincides with the time period when the population of Cortes Island swells with summer residents, tourists, and boaters. There are extra mouths to feed, but it is a busy time. “It all happens in six weeks,” says Adam. “Everything is ripe and you’re harvesting as well as putting up food for winter—pickling cucumbers and beans. Every day you put up a week’s worth of food.”

Just before my visit to Linnaea, they had harvested twenty-five pounds of basil (that’s four big garbage bags full, in case you’re wondering). What does one do with such bounty? “Did you see the sign up at the stand that says ‘bulk basil?’” Adam says with a laugh.

The day I visited, the cucumbers were coming on strong. “There are so many cucumbers in here, it’s overwhelming,” said Tamara, Adam’s partner and fellow farm steward, from her seat in the cucumber patch. Time to start pickling.



Linnaea’s lower garden is made up of student gardens, the market garden, and a patch planted with basket willow to be used in upcoming basket making workshops. The market garden was bursting with beans, lettuces, a greenhouse of tomatoes, blueberries, carrots, eggplants in flower, and stands of raspberry canes.



There are melons as well, an unusual crop for this far north. They are grown on a compost pile that is covered in black plastic. Not only does the black collect heat from the sun, but the decomposition of the compost also generates heat, which helps the melons thrive and ripen. The melon variety pictured below, Noir de Carmes, apparently splits open when ripe, releasing an intoxicating scent.



In the middle of the market garden is a large area fenced off for chickens, and an old truck that has been converted into a chicken coop. Every year the chicken area is moved to another part of the garden, taking five years to make a full rotation. This allows that portion of land to lie fallow and be fertilized by droppings from the flock of fifty chickens. The eggs are consumed mainly by the residents and farming students, though the excess is sometimes sold in the off-season when there are no students to feed.



For most of Linnaea’s nearly twenty-year history, the farm has been certified organic. They recently allowed their certification to lapse, but in no way have they changed their philosophy and practice of growing according to organic guidelines. “If we were selling to other markets it might be an issue,” Adam tells me. “But we sell all our stuff on the island, everyone here knows what we stand for.”

Like many other organic pioneers, there is the feeling at Linnaea that the label means less than what it once did. “Organic produce has become super available,” Adam says. “You can get an organic tomato year round. But even if it’s organic, it’s been shipped there.” He tells me that the local co-op on Cortes carries tomatoes from Mexico. “Once you see them next to our tomatoes—they might as well be doing our marketing for us; they don’t look good, they don’t smell good.”



Linnaea’s commitment to not harming the environment extends to its packaging choices as well. They sell their produce in bags made from cellulose, which decomposes naturally, even though they are more than three times as expensive as plastic bags. “We want to do more than just break even,” Adam says. “We want to have more of a beneficial impact than a negative one.”

Standing amidst Linnaea’s gardens, teeming with butterflies and the delicious scent of fruits and vegetables warm from the sun, it’s easy to see that they are doing just that—feeding, teaching, supporting the environment and community.

Want to taste some of Linnaea Farms’ amazing produce? You’ll have to visit Cortes Island. But the farm stand is waiting for you each summer. A posted sign explains that the stand is stocked every morning “by people, not fossil fuels…it don’t get no fresher than this!!”



For more about gardens, teaching program, and school at Linnaea Farm, see their website.

LINNAEA FARM TRI-COLORED BEANS WITH WALNUTS AND GOAT CHEESE
A bag of Linnaea Farm “green” beans contains the crunchiest, snappiest beans ever—in three colors. This is a simple recipe but delicious, a nice addition to a summer lunch or dinner. It is also a perfect way to showcase the lovely colors of these beans (the purple ones are only purple on the outside, inside they are green). Use the freshest green beans you can—ideally from a local organic farm.



For each person use:
One generous handful of fresh green beans, tipped and tailed
1/2 tablespoon crushed walnuts, roasted briefly in a dry pan
1/2 tablespoon soft goat cheese, crumbled (easier to crumble when cold, when warm it smears)
One small clove garlic, or half a large clove, sliced thinly

Olive oil for sautéing
Salt and pepper to taste

If your beans are fresh and tender, skip the blanching. But if your beans are thick and tough at all, blanch briefly in boiling water and remove to a bowl of ice water to cool.

Sauté the garlic in olive oil until softened but not brown. Add the beans and sauté until warmed through but still slightly crunchy. Arrange on a plate, sprinkle with salt (and pepper, if desired). Top with roasted walnuts and goat cheese.