Ask Arlo Franklin if he likes celery, and he’ll give you a look that says, “that’s a stupid question”.
His answer is a resounding yes. He says the juiciness and the “greenness” make celery delicious. He particularly likes it if a bit of a “chew” is involved.
Arlo is nine. While his classmates are chugging down potato chips and chicken nuggets, Arlo can be found in the celery fields of Franklin Farm with a prime stem in his mouth.
His love comes from a generational connection to this most staple of crops.
The Franklin family
For six generations and almost 120 years, the Franklin family has grown celery in Auckland. For the first 60 years, it was in Mt Roskill, but when property prices rose, they moved to Waimauku.
“They used to have a three-hour trip into town on horse and cart to take it into market,” said Luke Franklin.
He’s the fifth generation, and he and his wife Jasmine are the current owners of the 16ha property.
His father and mother (Alan and Monique) live and work on-site, as do his grandfather and grandmother (Graham and Lucy).
At 82, Graham iss still an active part of the operation. He can be seen driving through the fields while his wife lends a hand in the packhouse.
“It’s so special. I don’t know anyone else who gets to work with four generations in one business,” said Luke.
His wife Jasmine couldn’t agree more.
“Having my kids and husband at work with me, I love working with Luke. Not everyone can do it, but he’s my best mate, and I absolutely love being with him at work.”
Stringy texture
Celery has struggled to find a place in Kiwi hearts compared to the sweetness of a ripe tomato or the popularity of its water-based competitor, the cucumber.
While many will avoid celery because of its wet, stringy texture, Jasmine quickly points out that they’re probably not trying the best celery.
“When it’s sitting on the shelf for a really long time, that’s when it goes stringy,” she said.
Freshly picked, she compares it to the “eye fillet” of the celery.
The Franklins have family recipes that are shared at every gathering. A stock or soup without a stem is unthinkable.
“If we don’t put it in, it just doesn’t taste the same. Hand on my heart,” Jasmine said.
Great-gran Lucy’s famous stuffed celery is a fan favourite – an upgraded twist on the traditional cream cheese topping.
“We’ve got cream cheese and really finely chopped spring onion, capsicum, ham, a little bit of gherkin and then a little bit of aioli to make it spreadable.”
Jasmine doesn’t muck around if you ask her if those ingredients would be better on a cracker.
“It’s a nutritious, delicious vessel. A cracker doesn’t have much nutrients,” Jasmine said with a smile.
‘Aphrodisiac’
As Jasmine cold-pressed fresh celery juice, she spoke about how many people are now learning about celery’s health benefits.
It’s high in vitamin C and antioxidants, making it a great addition to a healthy diet. It’s also been linked to lowering blood pressure and is high in vitamin K.
Alan had a little-known secret about celery that he shared with a glint in his eye.
“You’ll find that [celery] has a pheromone that women find attractive called androsterone.”
The theory is that when consumed, celery could theoretically act as an aphrodisiac.
While science is unsure about its effectiveness, Alan’s wife Monique gave her verdict. “Obviously! I’m still here,” she giggled.
The future
The family said celery farming is not an easy way of life. They harvest six days a week regardless of the weather, and slowly, Auckland’s sprawl is pushing up land prices.
But since Luke and Jasmine took over the farm four years ago, they’ve started to change the land’s outlook.
In spring, the Franklin Farm sunflower fields illuminate the area in yellow, and their current project is turning an old nursery into a monarch butterfly house to boost populations in the area.
It’s a diversification from celery that hasn’t happened in a few decades, although celery is still their staple.
If the future of this plot is ever in question, then you only need to go back to Arlo and ask what he wants to be when he grows up.
“A celery farmer,” he said with enthusiasm.
Ask his sister Saskia the same question, and she’s a little more reserved. After a moment of contemplation, Arlo turned to her with a look of confusion.
“You don’t want to be a celery farmer?” he asked with surprise.
“Maybe” she smiled.
