It’s April, the sun is shining, but there’s still a slight chill in the morning air. Amanda Staples is already covered in dirt as she unlocks a gate and welcomes me into her garden. For now, there’s more black dirt than lush green plants. There’s much work to do, but Staples is excited.

“ I just planted onions yesterday,” she said, pointing to a tidy row. “ I've got tons of lettuces, kale, cabbages, and whatnot in the greenhouse ready to go in the ground.”

Staples is friendly and laughs easily, but I got the feeling she’d rather be working, and behind her smile, she seemed to be subconsciously paging through the almanac in her head about what needed to go into the ground today, this week, this month. 

Making treasure from trash

Sixteen years ago, the space was so overgrown it was impossible to get the lay of the land. Surveying the half-acre plot, she recalled, “It was a mess.  Multiflora rose vines wrapped in porcelain berry, all of these mulberry saplings everywhere, and black locust saplings everywhere. It was just a thicket. 

“ There are massive trees on either side of the property, so we didn't know what the sun situation would be like,” she said. She had three weeks to decide whether she wanted to buy the property. “We didn't have time to test the soil.” But Staples took the risk.

Hiding under that thicket, Staples unearthed a pile of 40 bottles, an even more enormous pile of rubble, and two ice cream trucks. Clearing the space helped her discover what might be possible. 

Over its lifetime, Germantown Kitchen Garden has had many iterations. There was a “homestead-community supported agriculture (CSA),” but the 10-person CSA didn’t pay the bills. Staples experimented with an orchard and raised beds, but she couldn’t quite make that pay off either.

Around 2015, Staples decided it was time for a break. She worked for a friend doing landscaping and took some horticulture classes. By 2016, she felt refreshed and ready to recommit to her urban farm. “ My puttering days were over,” she said with conviction. “ I have to make a living.”

Over time, Staples settled on what worked. “No more potatoes,” she laughed. “They take up too much space.” The plot layout means she has to think creatively about what she sows — trellised plants free up valuable real estate. “ I have a weird little area here now that's like all perennial stuff, so I planted rhubarb, gooseberries, and fig trees.” She pointed to a row of tiny green sprouts. “ Because these plants are trellised, I can always plant underneath them.” 

It takes green to grow green

Staples runs Germantown Kitchen Garden as a business, and like any typical founder, she pumps a lot of her earnings back into it. This can be frustrating. So much is out of her control, such as weather patterns, pollution, and neighborhood critters.

To help cover costs, Staples applied for a “Stabilization Grant” from The Merchants Fund, a Philadelphia-based nonprofit that funds small businesses so they can overcome obstacles to growth. She was awarded $10,000 and used that money to buy a tunnel for her tomatoes. 

Tomato tunnels function like an open-ended greenhouse: they’re a transparent plastic semicircular tunnel rising to 7 feet high in the middle. They allow for longer growing seasons and keep the plants safe from tough weather conditions such as cold, wind, rain and hail. 

When Staples speaks about tomatoes, her whole demeanor changes. “Tomatoes are my number one moneymaking crop. They're also my number one joy. I love them.” 

The tunnel was a game changer. “ I went from a couple hundred dollars worth of tomatoes to a couple thousand dollars worth of tomatoes just in one season,” she explained. “I like to grow heirloom tomatoes. They can't tolerate the weather. They just can't be rained on in that capacity.” Now she has very coddled tomatoes. 

“ They're extremely pampered,” she laughed. “And one of my favorite tasks is to pamper them.” To that end, she created an heirloom tomato spa of sorts. At least once a week, she walks through the tunnel, pruning and clipping diseased leaves to ensure airflow and sunlight bathe her tomatoes for their maximum comfort and growing potential. 

Germantown Kitchen Garden's name came from a European practice. Staples explained, “You'd have these formal gardens, these cut-flower gardens. And then the kitchen garden is where you grow your vegetables and herbs when you walk out your door. All your food is there.”

This idea is what Staples is trying to foster in the community. Almost since the garden opened, on Saturdays from May through October, you can find Staples selling her seasonal produce at a farmstand on her property. She doesn’t travel to area farmer’s markets. 

Locals flock to buy her salad greens, garlic, tomatoes, carrots and whatever might be in season. If Staples doesn’t grow it, she’ll source items, like those space-loving potatoes, from other growers. She wants to ensure her customers have access to high-quality, locally grown goods. These partnerships allow her to focus on what she grows best while supporting other regional farmers.

In spring and summer, the garden transforms into a social space. People sit in the back and enjoy coffee from Germantown Espresso. This community element is essential to her vision. "I love urban farms, and I want people to be able to come into one and see what it's like," she said.

Staples’ passion for urban farming and sustainable living shines through in her work. Her little urban oasis reminds us that, even in the heart of a big, loud, populated city, a garden can thrive and community can flourish. It’s clear Staples is not just growing food; she’s cultivating a more connected, sustainable, and vibrant city.