AROUND 4 P.M. on Friday, I changed my mind about the intimate evening with my taxes I had planned. I called up my friend Sam to see if he was up for a beer. "A beer and then home to productivity and a lonely cat," I said to myself.

I hadn't bargained on backgammon and my rumbling stomach. Or maybe I had. I enjoy wheedling Sam into feeding me when I visit. He often gives a show of reluctance, because he's familiar with the rate at which I can consume his carefully hoarded delicacies. But I'm a perseverant guest. Last time I came by, he actually removed from my hand the remains of the triple-cream Camembert he had brought back from a bike ride to the French Marin Cheese Factory. He claimed he feared for my arteries.

This time he wisely put together the preprandial plate himself, rather than leaving me alone with a whole quantity of anything. The plate consisted of a toasted slice of Mestemacher Hazelsauer bread (rye bread with whole grains and slices of hazelnut in it – who knew anything vacuum-packed could taste so good? – and it has no preservatives) accompanied by a handful of dried figs and a couple slices of saged white cheddar sent by his mother from the San Joaquin Valley. On the side, a little bowl of Brown Cow cream-top maple yogurt with a drizzle of a rose syrup his roommate had brought from Canada. And dinner was still to come.

Sam is not only a fearless experimenter in the kitchen, but he also cares to know where the ingredients for his experiments come from, which can be difficult in a time when food travels an average of well over 1,000 miles to get from the farm to the fridge. You may wonder why it matters that food travels to get to your table. Detailing the reasons could easily take up this week's entire Bay Guardian, but here's a compelling one for the hedonists: it tastes a lot better if it hasn't had the life wrung out of it by a long journey. Think how you feel after a 10-hour flight ...

An element that makes it possible for Sam to be a knowledgeable kitchen chemist is the weekly box of seasonal, organic produce his household gets delivered from Terra Firma Farm. They're one of the 15 pickup spots for Terra Firma in the city, so not only do they get a box, but they also get it for free (not to mention the other boxes that don't get claimed within a day or two of delivery – which they occasionally donate to delighted friends).

For our dinner, Sam concocted a chickpea and green-garlic curry with potatoes and a side of sautéed leeks. All of the produce except the chickpeas – from the box. My contribution to the night was a trip to the corner store for a six-pack of Anchor Steam. And a few games of backgammon.

Thoughts of our meal led me to the Terra Firma Farm Web site (www.terrafirmafarm.com), which informed me that Terra Firma is a CSA, a Community Supported Agriculture farm. Community Supported Agriculture is a concept that came to the United States in the 1980s via Europe and Japan, and means essentially what the name suggests: a mutually supportive community and a farm committed to responsible land use. Apparently, a group of women in Japan in the 1960s, concerned about the rising industrialization of food and declining Japanese farms, started teikei (partnerships) between farmers and urban dwellers. Less literally, teikei often translates as "putting the farmer's face on food."

CSAs are best known in the United States for "subscription farming," in which urban dwellers invest in a farm in return for its produce or product. No surprise then that CSAs tend to be concentrated around larger metropolitan areas. Loyally, I expected California to have the largest number of CSAs, but at 74, we're four farms behind New York.

Subscribing to a produce box is an easy and delectable way to eat what's in season – not in Chile or another place halfway around the world, but here, in California – a notion that can be difficult to keep in mind when shopping in supermarkets or even smaller produce stores that cater to the standard of everything being available at all times.

A box may also be a way to meet new vegetables – and never fear, the newsletter that comes with most farms' boxes has simple recipes, as well as useful facts about produce (really! Who knew that the heavier a citrus fruit is, the sweeter it is?) and news about the farm that really does make you feel more connected to the planet than that caged tree in the sidewalk outside your apartment.

The helpful Terra Firma Web site lists all of the current pickup points (with maps). There are a few near my house – and a small box can certainly be secured with bungee cords to a bike rack. If you don't live near a delivery point, don't despair; you may be able to start a new one. Besides, there are several other farms (Riverdog, Eatwell) that deliver produce boxes or baskets to the Bay Area.