by Erik
A couple months ago I drove 9 hours to Orange County with my wife, my parents, and my two kids all crammed into a rented Dodge Caravan. I was a little nervous to drive so far with the kids. Nine hours in a car with a six month old and a three year old? What better way to spend your vacation!? But my Dad was insistent on taking his "Grand Tour" of California's Central Valley, and so away we drove!
In case you haven't had the opportunity to experience it for yourself, there really is nothing like the Central Valley in late January. I mean this in a good way. If you're the kind of person who actually interested in where food grows, and what it looks like while being grown, then a drive down Highway 99 along the eastern side of the San Joaquin Valley will offer a glipse at pretty much every kind of crop that California grows best -- or, if it's the middle of winter, you'll at least see where those crops are grown. Highway 99 goes right through the middle of Fresno, Tulare, and Kern counties -- which are typically ranked amongst the top most agriculturally productive counties in the entire United States. Tulare County is also the single largest producer of dairy products in the United States (helping make California the largest dairy state in the nation -- suck it Wisconsin!).
You might not get to see everything in full bloom/blossom during the middle of January, but you can still see a lot. Orchards are especially abundant -- almonds, walnuts, and pecans in particular. If you hop off the highway and travel a bit farther to the east, the foothills of the Sierra Nevada produce a unique thermal belt that prevents frost during the night -- which, as everyone knows, is critical in producing high-quality citrus. Most of California's citrus crops comes from Fresno and Tulare counties (the southern orange orchards having long ago succumbed to the urban sprawl of greater Los Angeles, and the northern citrus orchards having been decimated by the great freezes of 1972 and 1990).
The other Central Valley crop of note is grapes. They produce a lot of grapes in the southern San Joaquin (technically, the San Joaquin Valley is the southern half of the Central Valley). Now, these grapes aren't your fine wines. These grapes are (generally) your Carlo Rossi, your Franzia, your Peter Vella. And your raisins. Which is why Kingsburg, CA is home to the world headquarters of Sun Maid Raisins.
We first started seeing the signs about 10 miles out. "Sun Maid World Headquarters!" We weren't going to stop, but then The Boy said he had to pee and so we whipped off the highway and it randomly happened to be the Kingsburg exit. There were signs for the headquarters and so I thought "eh, why not?"
I'm seriously glad we stopped -- it ended up being one of the highlights of the trip. The headquarters is about a half mile east of the highway, and is attached to a huge factory. Factory tours may be available, I dunno -- we didn't have time, and I didn't ask. But there is a gift shop with your typical dried fruits, candy, and free Sun Maid samples. Actually, the gift shop itself wasn't all that interesting. What made the stop worthwhile were the bathrooms.
That sounds weird, right? Well, the reason they're interesting is because to access the restrooms, you have to leave the gift shop and actually go inside the real headquarters part. You open a double door and enter the waiting/reception area, a room that I can only describe as a place where all time stopped in 1964 (when the factory was built). The whole place is decked out in richly ornate (but mid-century modern) wood, and it's very very still and quiet, and behind the reception desk a wonderful and friendly woman asks "Can I help you?" You ask for the restrooms and she points kindly down the hall. When you come out (having washed your hand thoroughly), she asks if you might like a sample, and with a wink and a nod tips her head towards the bowl full of Sun Maid mini-boxes on the top of the curved mid-century modern desk. Along the wall, encased in glass, are small mementos of Sun Maid's history -- including a replica of the original Sun Maid red bonnet worn by Lorraine Collett (the original Sun Maid). The original bonnett is held in the Smithsonian.
Outside the office is is a giant Sun Maid rasin box. A small placard attached to the base of the box informs you that you are standing next to the largest raisin box in the whole world. And why shouldn't you be? Sun Maid is the world's largest processor of raisins and other dried fruits. You stand and admire the big red box for a while, and then get back in your car and get back on the highway.
The whole experience takes 20 minutes. But it's an interesting way point, and after three hours of blasting along the pavement at 80 miles an hour the still and quiet of the headquarters was a brief step back in time. Not quite so far back as to when the original Sun Maid was making 15 dollars a week picking grapes, but more so to a time when men in Don Draperesque-suits and felt-brimmed hats would have walked the hushed headquarters hallways, smoking like fiends (the free sample dish at the reception desk would be filled with Lucky Strikes) while trying to figure out how to sell more raisins, and at the end of the day going home to their tiny little California bungalows, living the California dream.


{photo credits: wikipedia.org}