Indian Vegetables Usa Lo Ekkada Pandistaru

[vasu123]

Usa lo indian stores ki indian veggies ekkadi nundi vastay, oke place lo edina state lo pandistara or individual states lo pandistara.

[cool_dood]

they are spread out all through vayya - il, fl, ca etc 

[Raja123]

[vasu123]

they are spread out all through vayya - il, fl, ca etc

So eh state ki ah state lo pandistara , ante anni states lo land farming veggies ki anukoolistaya? Winter lo snow paddappudu snow places lo kooda pandutaya or vere state nundi import cheyistara

[siru]

So eh state ki ah state lo pandistara , ante anni states lo land farming veggies ki anukoolistaya? Winter lo snow paddappudu snow places lo kooda pandutaya or vere state nundi import cheyistara

Greenhouse farming chestaru..
Kcr farmhouse lo kuda vundi ee facility

[cool_dood]

So eh state ki ah state lo pandistara , ante anni states lo land farming veggies ki anukoolistaya? Winter lo snow paddappudu snow places lo kooda pandutaya or vere state nundi import cheyistara

private farmers ki desi veggies contracting isthaar vaa, aallu aalla green houses lo pandistaaru - yeah year round productivity untadi - don matter if its winter or whateva - also mehico lo bhi chalane untaai farming - inthakee ipudu neekem kavala?

[ravula]

 

why lauping?
 

[KillChillPandey]

mexico, california, florida..e madya ekkuva pak nunchi imports ekkuva chestunnaru for low cost..so brandname india di aina product pak di..

[Force]

Greenhouse farming chestaru..
Kcr farmhouse lo kuda vundi ee facility

[hyderabadgreat]

ekkda padincharu...

[Mahesh_Fan]

Lab lo :giggle:

[tom bhayya]

LOS ANGELES — Some entrepreneurs dream of ruling Wall Street while others imagine themselves as Hollywood moguls or as the next Bill Gates. But for Harbhajan Singh, founder of Samra Produce here, the quest has been to become America's "king of okra."

Raised and educated in India's fertile Punjab region, Mr. Singh, 41, came to Southern California in 1985 as a trained agronomist with a master's degree in economics. As a member of the agricultural Jat caste, it was natural for him to think about growing and selling food. He saw California as ideal for growing the kind of Indian specialties — okra, eggplant, bitter melon, beans — that he ate as a child.

"In Punjab, you can grow anything," Mr. Singh said. "It's like California."

Once he arrived, and with $500 borrowed from his family, Mr. Singh started buying vegetables from wholesalers and selling them to local Indian markets and restaurants from the back of a pickup truck. In the mid-1990's, he opened a 1,400-square-foot stall at the 7th Street Produce Market in downtown Los Angeles and started a small farm in Delano, in the Central Valley. But he found that because of the climate, the region grew only inferior versions of the okra and other produce traditionally used in South Asian kitchens.

Mr. Singh said he lost that farm, falling heavily into debt, but he eventually found his ideal spot in a hot, dry farming area near Indio, southeast of Palm Springs. Relying largely on credit from his customers, he slowly built Samra into a substantial business. His 150-acre farm grows okra — a vegetable with a subtle, eggplant-like taste that also makes it popular in Southern dishes like gumbo — as well as chiles, opo squash and daikon radishes. He also buys from other local farmers who produce vegetables suitable for the growing Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi immigrant market.

 

HAT area grows the best okra in the world," Mr. Singh asserted, sitting in his spacious warehouse in the sprawling produce market. As the business has grown, his space has grown to 18,000 square feet.

Being the best, he said, has always been his obsession. By producing only the highest-quality produce and delivering it quickly, he could lead a market that was largely ignored by others.

"At first, no one would listen to me," said Mr. Singh, who arrives at the market at 5 a.m. daily and usually stays past 4 p.m. "People ignored me. But when I delivered the best quality, they got confidence. Now they see I really am the king of okra."

Virtually a one-man operation in the mid-1990's, Mr. Singh's business now employs eight people. Last year, it had sales of more than $10 million, five times the 1998 total. He sells his produce — some of it delivered in a company-owned 18-wheeler — as far away as Vancouver, British Columbia; Toronto; Chicago; the New York region; and London, where there are large Indian populations.

His success reflects a broader reality in the nation's produce market. As ethnic populations — and interest in ethnic food — grow across the country, so do the opportunities for entrepreneurs like Mr. Singh, said Richard Meruelo, president of the Alameda Produce Market, which owns the 300,000-square-foot 7th Street market, built in 1919.

Mr. Meruelo also owns 600,000 square feet of space in the adjacent area and plans an additional half-million by 2002. He said that most of his clients were not the big produce companies that had been in Los Angeles for generations, but rather Asians and Latinos who ran small businesses with 400 to 20,000 square feet of space and sales of less than $2 million annually. They concentrate on traditional ethnic foods — Thai, Korean, Chinese, Mexican, Salvadoran, Caribbean — that are consumed by immigrants and an increasing percentage of the native-born population.

"The growth in this business comes primarily from Asians and Hispanics who know what sells well in their own communities," said Mr. Mereulo, himself the son of Cuban immigrants. "The key is to specialize in something."

Supermarket chains like Lucky's and Ralphs, he said, "know how to sell an orange to the mass market, but these guys sell a special product that is not mainstream."

Immigration from India and elsewhere in South Asia has been rising steadily over the last 40 years; the number of South Asians in the United States and Canada is now estimated at 1.4 million to 6 million, concentrated in several large urban areas.

Wholesalers like Anuj Patel, who owns Darpan Vegetables in Maspeth, Queens, say that until they met Mr. Singh, it was difficult to acquire a consistent supply of high-quality okra and other vegetables used in Indian kitchens. "People can tell the difference," said Mr. Patel, an Indian immigrant, who says his business has tripled since two years ago, when he began buying produce from Mr. Singh. "The radishes he grows, the okra, it's like from back home. You have other growers but the quality is not there."

Such concern about vegetables may seem a bit unusual to many Americans. But Mira Advani, a leading Indian food critic in Los Angeles, pointed out that many South Asians are vegetarian. Quality takes on a greater significance because produce makes up the bulk of their diet — the base for sauces, stews and soups, she said.

"Indians are very picky about their vegetables, their okra and their eggplant," said Ms. Advani, a native of India. "Their okra has to be the best — small and firm. Nothing else will do."

Such demands suit Mr.Singh well. Now the self-proclaimed "king of okra" hopes to enlarge his kingdom: he plans to start a farm next year in Mexico and eventually to expand to major supermarkets.

"It's basically a tough business, and you win by using your mind and technique," he said, with evident pride. "People don't understand my kind of product. You have to know every detail. Okra and other vegetables are not boring. Okra is not just okra. It is very special."

[Mahesh_Fan]

LOS ANGELES — Some entrepreneurs dream of ruling Wall Street while others imagine themselves as Hollywood moguls or as the next Bill Gates. But for Harbhajan Singh, founder of Samra Produce here, the quest has been to become America's "king of okra."

Raised and educated in India's fertile Punjab region, Mr. Singh, 41, came to Southern California in 1985 as a trained agronomist with a master's degree in economics. As a member of the agricultural Jat caste, it was natural for him to think about growing and selling food. He saw California as ideal for growing the kind of Indian specialties — okra, eggplant, bitter melon, beans — that he ate as a child.

"In Punjab, you can grow anything," Mr. Singh said. "It's like California."

Once he arrived, and with $500 borrowed from his family, Mr. Singh started buying vegetables from wholesalers and selling them to local Indian markets and restaurants from the back of a pickup truck. In the mid-1990's, he opened a 1,400-square-foot stall at the 7th Street Produce Market in downtown Los Angeles and started a small farm in Delano, in the Central Valley. But he found that because of the climate, the region grew only inferior versions of the okra and other produce traditionally used in South Asian kitchens.

Mr. Singh said he lost that farm, falling heavily into debt, but he eventually found his ideal spot in a hot, dry farming area near Indio, southeast of Palm Springs. Relying largely on credit from his customers, he slowly built Samra into a substantial business. His 150-acre farm grows okra — a vegetable with a subtle, eggplant-like taste that also makes it popular in Southern dishes like gumbo — as well as chiles, opo squash and daikon radishes. He also buys from other local farmers who produce vegetables suitable for the growing Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi immigrant market.

HAT area grows the best okra in the world," Mr. Singh asserted, sitting in his spacious warehouse in the sprawling produce market. As the business has grown, his space has grown to 18,000 square feet.

Being the best, he said, has always been his obsession. By producing only the highest-quality produce and delivering it quickly, he could lead a market that was largely ignored by others.

"At first, no one would listen to me," said Mr. Singh, who arrives at the market at 5 a.m. daily and usually stays past 4 p.m. "People ignored me. But when I delivered the best quality, they got confidence. Now they see I really am the king of okra."

Virtually a one-man operation in the mid-1990's, Mr. Singh's business now employs eight people. Last year, it had sales of more than $10 million, five times the 1998 total. He sells his produce — some of it delivered in a company-owned 18-wheeler — as far away as Vancouver, British Columbia; Toronto; Chicago; the New York region; and London, where there are large Indian populations.

His success reflects a broader reality in the nation's produce market. As ethnic populations — and interest in ethnic food — grow across the country, so do the opportunities for entrepreneurs like Mr. Singh, said Richard Meruelo, president of the Alameda Produce Market, which owns the 300,000-square-foot 7th Street market, built in 1919.

Mr. Meruelo also owns 600,000 square feet of space in the adjacent area and plans an additional half-million by 2002. He said that most of his clients were not the big produce companies that had been in Los Angeles for generations, but rather Asians and Latinos who ran small businesses with 400 to 20,000 square feet of space and sales of less than $2 million annually. They concentrate on traditional ethnic foods — Thai, Korean, Chinese, Mexican, Salvadoran, Caribbean — that are consumed by immigrants and an increasing percentage of the native-born population.

"The growth in this business comes primarily from Asians and Hispanics who know what sells well in their own communities," said Mr. Mereulo, himself the son of Cuban immigrants. "The key is to specialize in something."

Supermarket chains like Lucky's and Ralphs, he said, "know how to sell an orange to the mass market, but these guys sell a special product that is not mainstream."

Immigration from India and elsewhere in South Asia has been rising steadily over the last 40 years; the number of South Asians in the United States and Canada is now estimated at 1.4 million to 6 million, concentrated in several large urban areas.

Wholesalers like Anuj Patel, who owns Darpan Vegetables in Maspeth, Queens, say that until they met Mr. Singh, it was difficult to acquire a consistent supply of high-quality okra and other vegetables used in Indian kitchens. "People can tell the difference," said Mr. Patel, an Indian immigrant, who says his business has tripled since two years ago, when he began buying produce from Mr. Singh. "The radishes he grows, the okra, it's like from back home. You have other growers but the quality is not there."

Such concern about vegetables may seem a bit unusual to many Americans. But Mira Advani, a leading Indian food critic in Los Angeles, pointed out that many South Asians are vegetarian. Quality takes on a greater significance because produce makes up the bulk of their diet — the base for sauces, stews and soups, she said.

"Indians are very picky about their vegetables, their okra and their eggplant," said Ms. Advani, a native of India. "Their okra has to be the best — small and firm. Nothing else will do."

Such demands suit Mr.Singh well. Now the self-proclaimed "king of okra" hopes to enlarge his kingdom: he plans to start a farm next year in Mexico and eventually to expand to major supermarkets.

"It's basically a tough business, and you win by using your mind and technique," he said, with evident pride. "People don't understand my kind of product. You have to know every detail. Okra and other vegetables are not boring. Okra is not just okra. It is very special."

K

[tom bhayya]

CA valley region lo chaala farm lands sardars vi konni small cities aithey punjab lo unnattey untaayi

[SamosaChai]

LOS ANGELES — Some entrepreneurs dream of ruling Wall Street while others imagine themselves as Hollywood moguls or as the next Bill Gates. But for Harbhajan Singh, founder of Samra Produce here, the quest has been to become America's "king of okra."

Raised and educated in India's fertile Punjab region, Mr. Singh, 41, came to Southern California in 1985 as a trained agronomist with a master's degree in economics. As a member of the agricultural Jat caste, it was natural for him to think about growing and selling food. He saw California as ideal for growing the kind of Indian specialties — okra, eggplant, bitter melon, beans — that he ate as a child.

"In Punjab, you can grow anything," Mr. Singh said. "It's like California."

Once he arrived, and with $500 borrowed from his family, Mr. Singh started buying vegetables from wholesalers and selling them to local Indian markets and restaurants from the back of a pickup truck. In the mid-1990's, he opened a 1,400-square-foot stall at the 7th Street Produce Market in downtown Los Angeles and started a small farm in Delano, in the Central Valley. But he found that because of the climate, the region grew only inferior versions of the okra and other produce traditionally used in South Asian kitchens.

Mr. Singh said he lost that farm, falling heavily into debt, but he eventually found his ideal spot in a hot, dry farming area near Indio, southeast of Palm Springs. Relying largely on credit from his customers, he slowly built Samra into a substantial business. His 150-acre farm grows okra — a vegetable with a subtle, eggplant-like taste that also makes it popular in Southern dishes like gumbo — as well as chiles, opo squash and daikon radishes. He also buys from other local farmers who produce vegetables suitable for the growing Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi immigrant market.

HAT area grows the best okra in the world," Mr. Singh asserted, sitting in his spacious warehouse in the sprawling produce market. As the business has grown, his space has grown to 18,000 square feet.

Being the best, he said, has always been his obsession. By producing only the highest-quality produce and delivering it quickly, he could lead a market that was largely ignored by others.

"At first, no one would listen to me," said Mr. Singh, who arrives at the market at 5 a.m. daily and usually stays past 4 p.m. "People ignored me. But when I delivered the best quality, they got confidence. Now they see I really am the king of okra."

Virtually a one-man operation in the mid-1990's, Mr. Singh's business now employs eight people. Last year, it had sales of more than $10 million, five times the 1998 total. He sells his produce — some of it delivered in a company-owned 18-wheeler — as far away as Vancouver, British Columbia; Toronto; Chicago; the New York region; and London, where there are large Indian populations.

His success reflects a broader reality in the nation's produce market. As ethnic populations — and interest in ethnic food — grow across the country, so do the opportunities for entrepreneurs like Mr. Singh, said Richard Meruelo, president of the Alameda Produce Market, which owns the 300,000-square-foot 7th Street market, built in 1919.

Mr. Meruelo also owns 600,000 square feet of space in the adjacent area and plans an additional half-million by 2002. He said that most of his clients were not the big produce companies that had been in Los Angeles for generations, but rather Asians and Latinos who ran small businesses with 400 to 20,000 square feet of space and sales of less than $2 million annually. They concentrate on traditional ethnic foods — Thai, Korean, Chinese, Mexican, Salvadoran, Caribbean — that are consumed by immigrants and an increasing percentage of the native-born population.

"The growth in this business comes primarily from Asians and Hispanics who know what sells well in their own communities," said Mr. Mereulo, himself the son of Cuban immigrants. "The key is to specialize in something."

Supermarket chains like Lucky's and Ralphs, he said, "know how to sell an orange to the mass market, but these guys sell a special product that is not mainstream."

Immigration from India and elsewhere in South Asia has been rising steadily over the last 40 years; the number of South Asians in the United States and Canada is now estimated at 1.4 million to 6 million, concentrated in several large urban areas.

Wholesalers like Anuj Patel, who owns Darpan Vegetables in Maspeth, Queens, say that until they met Mr. Singh, it was difficult to acquire a consistent supply of high-quality okra and other vegetables used in Indian kitchens. "People can tell the difference," said Mr. Patel, an Indian immigrant, who says his business has tripled since two years ago, when he began buying produce from Mr. Singh. "The radishes he grows, the okra, it's like from back home. You have other growers but the quality is not there."

Such concern about vegetables may seem a bit unusual to many Americans. But Mira Advani, a leading Indian food critic in Los Angeles, pointed out that many South Asians are vegetarian. Quality takes on a greater significance because produce makes up the bulk of their diet — the base for sauces, stews and soups, she said.

"Indians are very picky about their vegetables, their okra and their eggplant," said Ms. Advani, a native of India. "Their okra has to be the best — small and firm. Nothing else will do."

Such demands suit Mr.Singh well. Now the self-proclaimed "king of okra" hopes to enlarge his kingdom: he plans to start a farm next year in Mexico and eventually to expand to major supermarkets.

"It's basically a tough business, and you win by using your mind and technique," he said, with evident pride. "People don't understand my kind of product. You have to know every detail. Okra and other vegetables are not boring. Okra is not just okra. It is very special."