A box scheme is a subscription to a field, not to a shop.
You get what grew, in the amount it grew, in the month it grew. That's the good part and it's also the difficult part, so this page starts with February rather than with a photograph of August — and then tells you what you'll get too much of, what you won't get to choose, and how to stop.
Brassicas, until they run out — Kale, cabbage, sprouting broccoli if the winter was kind to it. Purple sprouting in March is the first good news of the year
Leeks and onions — The two things that carry the whole gap. A box in March without a leek in it has gone wrong somewhere
Some things bought in — Citrus, and occasionally salad, from growers we name on the label. We would rather buy in honestly than send you a box of four swedes
Less variety, same weight — The box does not shrink. It gets duller, which is a different complaint and a fair one
Why we tell you this first — Because the people who leave a box scheme almost all leave in March, having joined in July. Knowing about February in advance is most of what makes a member stay
The rest of the year
Winter
Roots, brassicas, leeks, stored squash. Heavy boxes, long cooking, not much colour. The best soup months of the year and genuinely nobody's favourite box.
Spring
The gap, then the turn. Purple sprouting, then rhubarb, then the first salad and the first radishes. From mid-May it changes every single week.
Summer
Everything at once, and too much of it. Courgettes, beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, chard. This is the month people fall in love and it is not representative.
Autumn
The best boxes of the year, and the ones nobody photographs. Squash, sweetcorn, the last tomatoes, the first roots, apples if the orchard did well.
Box sizes
Small
- Six or seven kinds of veg
- Right for one or two people
- About two thirds of a shopping bag
- Fortnightly is an option
Standard
- Eight to ten kinds of veg
- A family of three or four who cook
- The one most people end up on
- Swap out two items you never eat
Large
- Ten to twelve kinds, bigger quantities
- A household that cooks every night
- Genuinely a lot of veg in August
- Most people start here and move down
Nothing is paid on this page — Ask below and we'll send you the standing-order details. There's no card form here and there never will be
The price doesn't change with the season — It's the same in February as in August, which is the deal — you carry the thin months and you get the glut for the same money
Collection is cheaper than delivery — There's a collection point in most villages we deliver to, and it takes a couple of pounds off. Say which you'd like when you ask
The weather decides the rest — A wet June changes what's ready in July. Nobody at this end gets a vote either, and a scheme that promises a fixed list is buying in to cover itself
Choice is what makes a supermarket wasteful — Growing to demand means growing a surplus and ploughing it in. Taking what's ready is the actual mechanism by which this wastes less
You can veto two things — Permanently, at any point. Most people veto fennel. Some people veto beetroot. Two is the limit or it becomes a shop again
We tell you what's coming on Sunday — One message, one channel, the list for the week ahead so you can plan. Never a surprise on the doorstep
Allergies are different from dislikes — Tell us and it's absolute rather than one of your two vetoes. That's not the same thing and we don't treat it as one
Freeze it on the day it arrives — Not on day five when you feel guilty. Beans, peas, sweetcorn and most soft fruit freeze well raw; courgettes and tomatoes want cooking first
The awkward vegetables have a sheet — Celeriac, kohlrabi, romanesco, salsify. One method each, no ingredients you won't have, and it's below and free whether you ever order or not
Give some away without feeling bad — A neighbour, the office, the food bank if it takes fresh. Passing on half a glut is not waste and it's how most long-term members handle August
Pause for a fortnight in the holidays — Free, any time, as long as we know by Sunday. A box rotting on a doorstep helps nobody and it's the commonest reason people quit
What actually gets wasted — Almost always salad, and almost always because it went in the drawer instead of a jug of water. It's the one thing worth doing differently
Eggs, half a dozen
From the hens you can see from the track. Boxes returned and reused, so please send them back with the crate.
Add it at the farm shopBread, from the mill down the road
Baked the morning it's delivered, with flour milled four miles away. Sourdough or a tin loaf, and it goes stale properly rather than never.
Add it at the farm shopMilk in glass, two litres
From a herd of forty, in returnable bottles. The bottles are worth more than the deposit suggests, so they do come back.
Add it at the farm shopPause for as long as you like — Holidays, illness, a month where cooking isn't happening. Pausing is better for us than a box nobody unpacks
Sunday is the deadline because Monday is picking — It's cut and packed for a named list. After Monday morning the vegetable exists and somebody is going to eat it
Why we'd still like a season's warning — Not as a rule — as a favour. Seed goes in months ahead and knowing roughly how many boxes we're growing for is the difference between a surplus and a shortfall
Nothing is stored except your address — No card details on our side at all, because the payment is a standing order you control from your own bank
If you leave, we'll ask one question — Why, and you're free not to answer. Almost every honest answer is either "too much veg" or "February", and both of those are on this page for that reason
“I quit in my first March and rejoined the following September, which the farm found funnier than I did. Six years now.”
A member, since the second time
Ask about joining
Not ready? One message a month, and it's mostly what's in the box
Live preview — every color, word and block is editable after you pick it.
