The Real Farm to Table Part 4: Why Supporting Local Food Matters

A Summer Series

Laura Davis & Sarah Fox | Photo by Genna Caviness

Welcome back to our summer series, where we’re spending time with the people who grow our food, care for the land, and keep Arizona’s farming traditions alive through hard work and purpose.

In this issue, we visit Two Sisters’ Tomatoes, a small farm built on conviction. Laura and Sarah aren’t in it for appearances. They grow natural food, stand by their choices, and do the kind of hands-in-the-dirt work that speaks for itself.

Two Sisters, One Farm: A Conversation with Laura and Sarah

When Genna and I pulled up to their farm, the first thing we noticed were the tools. Left where they’d been dropped, still leaning against a wheelbarrow or poking out of rows mid-prep, they told the story of a long day and the kind of tired that only comes from real work under the Arizona sun. The beds were being shaped for the coming season, the ground tended with care and a bit of stubborn hope. Laura greeted us with a smile that said both “welcome” and “we’ve been busy.” Inside, Sarah was finishing up and joined us with an adorable baby on her hip like a final, joyful punctuation mark. It was immediately clear that this was a farm built on sweat, family, and the quiet kind of purpose you don’t find just anywhere.

Some ventures begin with a blueprint, a business plan, or a seat at a boardroom table. Two Sisters’ Tomatoes started with a broken world, two stimulus checks, and a bit of dirt.

Broken because the pandemic had just upended everything: jobs vanished, supply chains collapsed, grocery shelves went bare, and people suddenly realized how fragile the food system really was. For Laura and Sarah, it was a wake-up call. The world they thought was steady, wasn’t.

Laura and Sarah, two sisters from Ohio, didn’t set out to become tomato farmers in Arizona’s Verde Valley. Sarah had been busy navigating check-ins and concierge calls in Sedona’s hospitality industry when COVID abruptly ended that chapter. Laura, whose Peace Corps assignment in Nepal was cut short, had spent her days teaching families how to grow kitchen gardens. Suddenly home, with unexpected free time and a global view of food, they looked at each other and asked, “Now what?” The universe replied with juicy, sun-warmed tomatoes and the wholesome satisfaction of working the land.

“We just decided to go for it,” Laura said. “The broken supply chain made people realize they needed local food if they were to survive difficult times, and we saw a chance to be part of the solution, rooted in organic farming and the kind of food that does the body good.”

They didn’t start with much. Just a few acres, a greenhouse, and the kind of dream that keeps you up at night. Grow real food, the right way, for people who care what’s on their plate. Today, their 2.5-acre farm is peaceful and purposeful. Nearly an acre is in active cultivation. The greenhouse is where they take chances. New crops, new methods, no guarantees. Just grit, sun, and a little faith.

Now their beautiful, vine-ripened heirlooms sell out fast at farmers markets in Flagstaff, Camp Verde, Prescott, and Payson. “We try to be the first tomatoes to market in the Verde Valley,” Sarah added. “We plant early and take risks.

Sometimes we lose crops to late frost, but being first matters. People are waiting.” Some customers want tomatoes for slicing and salads. Others buy by the case, choosing the ones that are extra ripe or slightly bruised because they’re perfect for canning or sauces. “We have local cooks and canners stock up,” Laura said. “That kind of loyalty is what keeps this little operation going.”

They also have a growing circle of customers who bring them seeds from their family gardens. These are often heirloom, open-pollinated varieties that don’t show up in commercial seed catalogs. “We’re helping preserve not just the memories but the seeds themselves.”

The sisters grow more than just tomatoes. Their seasonal lineup includes squash, lettuce, peppers, okra, and even artichokes, some of which have become wildly popular in floral arrangements. One of their helpers, a retired teacher from Ohio, now runs the small flower program, which has quietly become a surprise hit. “The artichokes, especially, have ended up in wedding bouquets,” Laura said.

Farming with Integrity

The sisters don’t sugarcoat their stance. They’re deeply concerned about the direction of industrial agriculture and the reliance on synthetic chemicals like glyphosate. In their view, growing food comes with a responsibility that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“People are trusting us with their food,” Laura said. “That should mean something.”

At Two Sisters’ Tomatoes, it does. That trust shapes every decision they make. They’ve chosen not to use pesticides of any kind, not even those approved under organic certification. The reason is personal and practical. They drink the same water that runs through their irrigation lines. Their children play in the same soil where the crops are grown.

Sarah knows it’s not always easy. They’ve lost crops to bugs and heat and bad timing, and there’s no safety net when you choose to farm this way. But she sees that as part of the trade.

“We lose crops sometimes. But that’s part of the deal,” she said. “You give up some control, but you keep your integrity. You keep your health. You keep the ground cleaner than you found it.”

This isn’t about perfection. It’s about staying aligned with their values, even when the stakes are high. They’re not trying to build an empire. They’re trying to grow food that’s good to feed your family.

Their method isn’t the easy route. It means pulling weeds by hand, staying ahead of pests the old-fashioned way, and accepting that some seasons are stingier than others. But it also means their soil stays healthy, their water stays clean, and their customers never have to second-guess what’s in their food. It’s not just farming—it’s a promise. One rooted in safety, transparency, and respect for the land they work.

Last year, they brought on a few local FFA girls to help with fieldwork. “They were sharp, motivated, and completely changed the vibe of the farm,” Laura said. “It felt good to bring young women into this space and show them what small-scale farming can be.”

Local Produce vs. Store-Bought Produce

There’s something different about biting into a tomato from a local farm. It’s not just the flavor, though that’s a big part of it. It’s the fact that the tomato was picked at its peak, likely that same morning, and hasn’t spent days in a truck or weeks in cold storage. It still tastes like the sun. Most grocery store produce, especially out of season, is picked too early so it can survive the long haul. It ripens in boxes or under fluorescent lights, which dulls both taste and nutritional value. You can tell the difference.

Local farmers grow with the seasons. They stick to what thrives naturally in the soil and weather they know best. Grocery store shelves, on the other hand, are designed to look the same all year. Strawberries in January. Asparagus in October. That kind of consistency usually requires greenhouses, artificial light, chemical inputs, and a lot of water. It’s not just resource-heavy. It’s often flavor and nutritionally light.

The distance food travels also matters more than we think. Local produce might come from ten miles down the road, often arriving within a day or two of harvest. Grocery store produce can come from hundreds or even thousands of miles away. It sits in transit, in warehouses, in storage. That long journey chips away at freshness and adds to the environmental cost.

Then there’s shelf life. Commercial growers aim for produce that looks perfect and holds up under pressure. Uniform size, tough skin, long-lasting appeal. But that often comes at the expense of flavor and nutrition. Local growers don’t have to grow for shipping. They grow for taste, for variety, and for the people they feed in their own communities.

When you buy local, you’re not just getting better food. You’re keeping your money in your community. You’re supporting small farms, families, and neighbors who are doing the work with care. You’re choosing a system built on connection, not convenience.

So yes, local produce is fresher. It tastes better. It’s better for the land and the people on it. And once you’ve tried it, you won’t need a label to remind you. You’ll know.

Not for Profit, But for Purpose

Profit isn’t the end goal, at least not yet. “This is a hobby farm that pays for itself,” said Sarah. But the dream runs deeper. “We’re not trying to build an empire. We’re here to rebuild a broken connection between people and their food.”

Their tomatoes are picked within a day of hitting the market. That freshness stands in stark contrast to the hard, flavorless supermarket versions. “When someone asks why store tomatoes are so bland, I want to say, ‘Because they’re styrofoam,’” Laura said.

Both sisters still work other jobs to keep things going. But with loyal customers, including local canning legend Sara Bowyer from the Park, and growing demand for local food, the future looks promising.

“We’re not in this to scale up or sell out,” Laura said. “We’re here to serve the community, connect people to their food, and grow what matters.”

Get in Touch with Two Sisters’ Tomatoes

If you want to experience food grown with care and purpose, reach out:

740-607-3033 • twosisterstomatoesaz@gmail.com • twosisterstomatoes.square.site