The growth of ‘agrihoods’ Residents of Eastmark, a development that hosts an urban farm inside the community, may be more primed for that reality. Dubbed “agrihoods,” these communi- ties are also known as farm-to-table living or developer-assisted agriculture. Here, locally raised, often organic produce is the selling point, in place of a staid golf course or tennis court. Along with the farm and diner, Steadfast includes a farm store where customers can buy coffee, fresh produce and cut flowers. Tiffany Chandler lives in Eastmark. She estimates she shops at the Steadfast Farm store once or twice a week. “To be right there, knowing that your food is being raised right there is incred- ible,” she says, pointing to the farm from her seat on the Steadfast Diner patio. “Since COVID’s happened, buying locally and supporting small businesses is such a big thing on a lot of people’s radars.” The Urban Land Institute counts more than 200 agrihoods located in at least 30 states, according to Civil Eats. Erich is an innovator in the space, first managing the 11-acre farm at Gilbert’s Agritopia. A landscape designer by trade, Erich planned Agritopia’s community garden and parts of the neighboring development Epicenter. His farming experience before jumping into that role was minimal — working on a family plot in a community garden. “I like challenges,” Erich says. His start, he says, was “very trial by fire.” It was at Agritopia that Steadfast was born. As the farm grew, they moved their operations to Schnepf Farms in Queen Creek before settling at Eastmark. Erich describes the farm as biointen- sive, meaning they plant crops several times during the year. Crews turn over a bed of recently harvested lettuce while other seeds germinate, the quicker to fill that space after a harvest. “Our style of farming — a lot of people think it’s cutting edge to do this small-scale but high-production model,” he says. “But it’s really getting back to the old way of doing things.” Along with the farm store, the Schultzes launched Steadfast Coffee to serve drinks and breakfast tacos. The coffee shop has grown from a trailer to two locations: inside their farm store and at Air Guitar, an upscale convenience store in Gilbert. Steadfast is poised for more growth. Its owners are also working on an educational urban farm for downtown Mesa and more land in the East Valley to focus on flowers. With each opportunity, the owners say they won’t lose sight of their north star. “The farm has been the foundation of everything and we always want to make sure that the farm is authentic and sustain- able,” Erich says. “It’s not just a showpiece for the other things. Farming has become a vehicle for creating community.” The Schultzes know that even with plan- ning and diligence, their crops — and thus their very business — are subject to nature. Yvonne recalls the “tomato apocalypse of 2018,” when the farm’s tomato plants sat underneath tunnels meant to protect them. Instead, the structures created a fatal heat dome for the crops. “We got there probably an hour late and it was already 130 degrees in there and cooked all of the tomato plants right when they were starting to produce,” Erich says. “It was a devastating loss for us,” Yvonne adds. Scorching summers, serious planning Arizona’s scorching summers present a huge challenge for the patio-reliant restaurant and the farm. Before the start of each year, the Schultzes spend a day or two designing a growing plan. That includes microgreens, salad greens, cucumbers, tomatoes, and a selection of root vegetables such as carrots, radishes, turnips and beets. The farm sells produce to chefs and individual customers alike. In the punishing heat of summer, farm production slows. During those hot months the Schultzes grow enough to sustain the diner and farmers markets, to keep a year-round connection with market regulars. Steadfast also produces honey and eggs that are in high demand. Last year, Erich says, they learned about a secondary “black market” of people reselling their eggs. They started limiting the number people could buy. Microgreens grow indoors year-round. The team uses shade cloth and micro- sprinklers on its lettuces “to trick the plants into thinking it’s cooler than it really is,” he says. The team hopes to add service to the nearby community pool and to build a structure on the “beer garden,” a section of the patio that looks at the farm. The Schultzes say a climate-controlled space, which will keep the farm view with a large wall of windows, will be key to the restau- rant surviving harsher summer months. “Having that contingency is always good,” Erich says. “Nine seats in here isn’t quite enough to do what we want to do.” A new chapter for Mesa’s Valentine diner The history of Valentine diners such as Steadfast goes back to the dawn of Interstate Highways after World War II. These portable, prefabricated restaurants popped up along highways, named after their manufacturer, Arthur Valentine, and known as dining cars because they resembled railroad cars. These eight-to- 10-seat diners arrived on-site fully equipped. Some of these restaurants have survived over the decades, while others have been repurposed into other busi- nesses or fallen into disrepair. They remain highly portable. The diner at Eastmark was previously on a roadside in Colorado. It initially opened as HandleBar in 2017, led by chef Adam Allison. Chasie Womack took the restaurant over in 2023. The diner abruptly closed in July — a move that “came as quite a surprise” to its operator. At the time, Eastmark’s developer said it closed the eatery “to focus on restructuring operations to restore our vision and upgrade your dining experience.” In November, the Steadfast team announced they would take over the diner. With their experience running a >> p 14 (Photos by Jacob Tyler Dunn) About half of what Steadfast Farm grows is salad greens, which briefly air dry before being packaged. Chef Derek Christensen, a one time farm hand at Steadfast, has returned to launch the diner in what he calls a “full circle” moment with the Schultzes. Burgers and sandwiches are made with beef from Wickenburg’s Capital Farms and Phoenix’s Noble Bread.
