Maya Okafor
“We plant in rows because a hoe fits between them. Everything else follows from that.”
Carrots, onions and salad leaves on twelve acres of heavy clay.
We keep no warehouse. We keep a list of growers, a few electric vans and a timetable that starts at five in the morning.
Seven things, all from the farms below, most of them cut on Monday or Tuesday morning.
Cut Monday
Cut Monday
Cut Tuesday
Cut in September
Lifted Monday
Cut Tuesday
Lifted in August
The list changes every Friday with whatever is ready. Swap up to three things, or mark what you never want, until Sunday midnight.
Each farm is certified organic, within forty miles of the packhouse, and names its own price at the start of the season.
“We plant in rows because a hoe fits between them. Everything else follows from that.”
Carrots, onions and salad leaves on twelve acres of heavy clay.
“Kale doesn't mind the cold. I mind it a lot. That's the deal we have.”
Kale, cabbages and winter greens under four tunnels that are never heated.
“Beetroot tells you when it's ready. You pull one, you taste it, you send the rest.”
Beetroot, chard and herbs on river silt at the edge of the marsh.
“Forty-one harvests on this hill, and the squash still surprises me most years.”
Squash, potatoes and drying beans, organic since before it had a label.
Nothing waits overnight in a cold store. This is a Tuesday, start to finish.
Leaves first, while they are still cold, then the roots, lifted and bunched by hand.
, in the field
A cold rinse takes the soil off. Nothing is waxed, trimmed for looks or bagged.
, at the farm
Heaviest at the bottom, leaves on top, this week's recipe card in the lid.
, at the packhouse
Six electric vans leave together and split by postcode. The drivers know which gates stick.
, on the road
Before supper, with a text when it lands. Leave last week's crate out for us.
By , at your door
Leave last week's crate on the step and the driver takes it home. We wash it, stack it and send it out again; a crate does about forty trips before it is mended or chipped for mulch.
If it can't come by road from within forty miles, it isn't in the box. That's why there are no bananas.
Tunnels keep the rain off; they never burn gas. Tomatoes arrive in July, not in March.
Paper bags, a waxed cotton wrap for the leaves, and a crate that comes back.
Each farm names its price before the season starts, and the box price is built up from there.
Leaves and roots leave the field the morning they reach you. Only squash and onions are cured, on the farm.
No contract and no minimum. Pause for a holiday from your account up to Sunday midnight.
Prices include delivery and the crate. Your delivery day depends on your postcode.
Four suppers from this week's rows, printed on the card inside the lid.
Anything else, write to hello@furrow.example
Each area has one delivery day a week, Tuesday to Friday. Check your postcode below; vans usually reach you between three and seven in the evening.
Tell us a safe place when you sign up: a porch, a neighbour, behind the bins. Boxes are packed to sit outside for an evening, even in summer.
The box follows what is ready, but you can swap up to three things a week and keep a list of what you never want sent.
Leave last week's crate on the step; the driver folds it and takes it back. If one goes missing nothing happens, we would just like it back.
Yes. Every farm we buy from is certified, and each grower's licence number is printed on the recipe card with their name.
From your account, any time up to Sunday midnight for the next week. No calls and no forms.