After we disembarked the Ferry, McGlasson Fruit Farm was just a few miles down and on our right. I'll be honest, I was expecting something...more. I found this place by posting a Facebook request asking for pick-your-own-peach destinations, and in my mind I would walk down aisles of trees and plucking off big, fat, juicy peaches. This wasn't the case and I want to set your expectations if you go. There weren't any goats or farm dogs wandering about. What they DID have were tables piled high of local, fresh produce. You could smell the tomatoes when you walked by the table, no antiseptic, hard-as-a-rock, mealy, tasteless specimens here. Only genuine, bona fide, old-fashioned love apples. You had your pick of those, too.
You could purchase ones that were blemish free for a premium price, or invest in box of "rough tomatoes" that had been around the block. I grabbed some of each. My husband is the chef in the family, and he promised me fresh bruschetta tonight.
Not only that, I found my perfect peach. My embarrassing-to-bite-into-while-in-public peach because I had to make a slurping noise to try to keep the juice from running down my face and into my lap. No worries. They had napkins.
Amy claimed one suspiciously derriere shaped potato.
We all came home with apples, peaches, tomatoes and fresh herbs. Besides my eating-there peach, I grabbed a box of fruit to make homemade peach pie. My husband may be the chef, but I rule over our pastry department. My mother-in-law finally gave me the family pie crust recipe, and I plan on testing it tomorrow. If it's any good, I'll share it!
I hear come Fall, you CAN pick your own pumpkins. I'm going to have to invest in a set of side bags before then.