Moon Dog Farms

Certified Naturally Grown family farm growing fruits, vegetables & flowers in the Texas Gulf Coast

MoonDog Farms is dedicated to stewardship of the land, reinforcing a healthy community and producing great food.  

Filtering by Tag: local food

From the Plastic Purses of Babes: A Diehard Locavore Story

There was a lovely story recently shared on facebook by one of our regular farmer's market customers.  She's the mother of an adorable young girl—a little lady who never arrives at market without the proper shoulderbag and matching sunglasses— and she always makes a point to give her daughter some money at the start of their shopping, allowing her to pick their purchases and handle all transactions.

Not only is the cute quotient completely overwhelming, I'm always struck by what seems to me a fine way of teaching money management, confidence and an underlying appreciation for local food.

 "...Friends, just wanted to let you know how special this little market has become to us!  When we arrived home, several neighbors saw my daughter. They said, “ Oh, you must have just got home from  the grocery! She then replied, "No silly, vegetables come from the farmers, not the grocery store. They grow them." Then my sweet 2.5yr old said, "Bye, bye friends" and walked away to take her market purchases inside. I was beaming with pride! Thanks Galveston's Own Farmers Market! Score!"

I'm always tickled when our little customer with the plastic pink purse shows up. After that story, it'll be a struggle to resist hugging her tearfully and offering to go halfsies on her college education everytime she prances into market asking for kale.

When a preschooler skips over to your table and points at the pyramid of bok choy asking for one of the 'big, white things' and proudly hands over a fist of money, you can't help but marvel at the encouraging darlingness of it all. Little girls lugging asian vegetables exactly their same size like some alternate crunchy version of "My Size Barbie" is enough to make anyone beam with pride.

 I'm sure Mattel's got the focus groups lined up already.


Growing food as a lifestyle is hard work. Growing food as a means to support oneself is far from the easiest way to go about it. We run into hardships and obstacles, foreseen and unforeseen, every single day.

The wonder of watching life emerge and transform in real time is one big fat reason why we're trying our darndest to make this adventure work.

Another is freedom—the kind that comes from knowing what went into the growing of our fruits and vegetables, and freedom from guilt because we do our best to do no harm to our environment and its future.

Those two year olds with 3 foot bok choys are another reason.

Truly horrible fashion. Hat cut into visor, the strawberry rhubarb color palette and those terminator sunglasses...

Truly horrible fashion. Hat cut into visor, the strawberry rhubarb color palette and those terminator sunglasses...

Or rather, the sharing of food which helps in making others healthy and happy. We can do very little to improve other people's lives. It's presumptuous to think we would even be suitable for that job—I mean, I've seen how bad our farmfashion is—but we can provide a memory of what good, honest food is. And hopefully reinforce the value of putting community, quality and accountability before fast, cheap and anonymous.


All we have to do now is keep it up until our produce toddles away in the arms of two year olds of all backgrounds and all classes. Thanks, Plastic Purse.

Now, if we can just convince her to bring a bok choy to show and tell...


Texting With The Coastal Classic

Walls of white fog are certainly full of ambiance. And yet, while quite reminiscent of Wuthering Heights and other wind-torn romances, they can put a real cramp in your farming style.

While crouched over the steering wheel like a myopic old granny, we drove from the farm to the farmer's market last Sunday in what amounted to the pea-soupiest of foggy mornings. We had hoped then that the moisture would abate by the start of the week. It didn't.

I never liked Wuthering Heights anyway.

So it is that I find myself in front of the computer, juggling emails, taxes and website revisions with close to zero news to report about the actual farm. You know, that plot of dirt with plants stuck in it.

Truth is, we haven't been able to get out and play in the dirt and plants most of this week...rain and more rain has left a sticky, goopy mess, forcing us to find tasks more suited to the weather. What blather was I left to share?

Then, from the ether, came our one saving grace. In the form of a text message.

(You knew that 21st Century miracles come with a electronic chime and can be scrolled with the thumb, right?)

The new chef for the Pelican Club at Gaido's restaurant in Galveston, Ross Warhol, sent me a little thank-you note for the produce we'd sold him a few days prior. Baby carrots, kale, meyer lemons and flowered bok choy had all been transformed into various epicurean wonders.

Baby carrots harvested early in the morning to be served for dinner as a Pelican Club special preview later that night.

Baby carrots harvested early in the morning to be served for dinner as a Pelican Club special preview later that night.

Ross is new to the island, brought down from the hinterlands of New York to jazz up the historic Pelican Club with his sizable skills and devotion to farm-fresh ingredients. He contacted us several weeks ago, looking to start a working friendship between He Who Cooks and They Who Grow.  

Obviously, we were delighted.

Gaido's is a revered institution on the island, run by folks who clearly support their community— not to mention they serve a mean redfish. (And a fresh one at that.)

As small organic farmers in the very same community, we seek to work alongside any who share our reverence for good food, served well and served responsibly. Their added shot of class is just a bonus for us. :)

And the sentiment that sent me over the edge? In describing a beet salad he made using our bok choy and carrots, Chef Warhol declared,

“ ...I love that I was able to keep the tap roots on while cleaning/ cooking them, it's like they are waving at you and saying, 'Hello, look at me!' "


Could you expect me NOT to fall in love with the guy who makes that spectacular food and then talks about its spectacularity like that?”

I'm in favor of anyone who loves to play with good food as much as we do. So “Huzzah!” to Chef Ross Warhol, “Hear Hear!” to the entire team at Gaido's, and “Yay!” to all the individuals (that means you, dear reader) who support the whole endeavor, whether you hanker for bok choy flowers or not.

So go on and hustle over to Gaido's for the Pelican Club weekend specials. The Club re-opens officially April 16th, but I hear the food is already pretty tasty. Must be that chef who talks to his carrots.