Tierra Vegetables' seven varieties of smoked chilis were recently dubbed an endangered American foodstuff and brought on board a metaphorical food ark by Slow Food, a global organization dedicated to good food and traditional foodways. Sure, Tierra grows regular garden stuff at three sites around the county, but Lee, Wayne, and Evie love chipotles first and foremost. Hell, even their hordes of shelties love chilis. Lee is quick to assure me that this pepper is a sweet pimiento, but I still hesitate, rubbing the dust off as an excuse to look around. The field looks like any other well-used piece of farmland in the middle of the harvest season.
Watermelon rinds from the failed melon plantings lie in little heaps at the end of the rows.
These white-top beets aren't doing so well. Wayne's barefootedness is just another example of Tierra's laid-back atmosphere. The buildings are weather-beaten, the flowers out front are spent in the fall heat, brown and trodden upon. The James don't have time to prettify their farm. They've got 60 people to fill produce boxes for, and they've got chilis to smoke.