Rosario Brothers Farm, located in Medina, New York, is an example of Latino leadership in agriculture in the northeastern United States. In just five years, Sergio Rosario and Silvia Rios have used their experience as farm employees into a productive 250-acre business, projected to expand to 350 acres with new options in packing.
The crisp autumn air in Medina, New York, heralds the beginning of the harvest. Walking among perfectly aligned rows of apples, Sergio Rosario watches as the reds of the Honeycrisp apples intensify in the morning light. At his side, Silvia Rios, his wife and partner, carefully supervises the empty crates that will soon be overflowing with freshly picked fruit.
“We have approximately 75 acres of Honeycrisp, of which 55 are high density with B.9 rootstock and 20 are traditional planting,” Sergio explains as he points to one of the younger sections of the orchard. “These trees produce apples that are more uniform in size, easier to handle, and of superior quality. In those blocks, we achieve up to 1,200 bushels per acre, equivalent to about 48,000 pounds of fruit.”
In all, Rosario Brothers Farm grows 250 acres of apples spread across three locations: Medina, with 120 acres and where the operations hub is located; Ransomville, with 80 acres; and Waterport, with 50. Of that total, 200 acres are earmarked for the fresh fruit market and 50 for industrial processing, although Sergio clarifies that they will soon stop producing fruit for processing to focus entirely on premium varieties. “We are cutting down the old processing trees; everything new is being planted for the fresh market,” he says with conviction, his words reflecting his vision for the future of the family business.
The main varieties include Honeycrisp, Gala, Fuji, Evercrisp, Pink Lady, Empire, Jonagold, Golden Delicious, and Linda Mac, all recognized for their sweetness, crisp texture, and high commercial demand.
Time has taught Sergio that quality opens doors. “The Honeycrisp on B.9 rootstock is more resistant to stress and fire blight,” he explains. “It grows more slowly, but produces firmer fruit with better color.” That attention to detail has positioned them among the most respected Latino growers in the area. But getting there wasn’t easy. “No one wanted to buy from us at first,” he recalls. “We lost an entire crop the first year because we didn’t know we had to keep records of the chemicals we applied. The apples ended up being turned into juice, and the price was a third of what a fresh apple is worth.”
They learned on the job, going door to door, until the packing houses Hess Brothers Fruit Co. (Lancaster, PA), H. H. Dobbins (Lyndonville, NY), Niagara Fresh Fruit (Biocul), and later Pomona Packing (Wolcott, NY) gave them a chance. “At first, they asked us for 20 boxes to check the quality. When they saw the fruit, they started asking us for more. Now there are companies that want us to send them everything, but we prefer to compare prices and payment methods — we have to ensure the workers’ payroll,” he says.
In the apple business, prices fluctuate as much as the seasons. “There are years when a 20-bushel (800-pound) box can be worth $800, and others when it barely gets up to $300,” Sergio explains. “That’s why we want a stable market. To know that every year my fruit can be worth at least $400 or $500 per box. That would allow us to plan.”
Silvia interjects in a calm but firm voice: “We want to have our own packing facility, Mildred. Once we deliver the apples, we don’t know where they go. We would like to get to know our customers, to have a relationship with them.”
The couple has done the math. The electrical installation and cooling unit for a cold storage facility alone would cost them $180,000, not including the structure. The dream of having their own packing facility is not a small one, but it doesn’t scare them either. “We’re not afraid of the investment,” says Sergio, “but there has to be a steady income. If there’s no cash flow, poor management can lead to ruin.”
That’s why they are considering two options: installing their own packaging and cold storage line, or building transparent partnerships with packers and distributors that guarantee traceability and fair prices. “The important thing is transparency,” adds Sergio. “I don’t mind if others make money; it’s business. But everything has to be clear. I need to know how much my work is worth.”
Sergio looks to the horizon, where the green of the trees blends with the autumn sky. “Our goal is to fill the empty land we still have — about 50 to 55 acres — with new varieties of packaging,” he says. “We want to reach 350 acres in total, replacing old trees with new ones. We plan to achieve this in two years.”
During the interview, Mildred Alvarado makes a suggestion: “We could organize a visit to a farm with a complete packing line and cold chain. Maybe in Massachusetts or the Hudson Valley.” Sergio smiles, but also sighs. “That would be nice. But there’s something about this business that isn’t talked about much: it’s a competitive, almost cannibalistic business. Producers don’t let you in to see their systems, let alone meet their buyers. Everyone protects their way of doing things.”
Rosario Brothers Farm employs more than 30 Latino workers, most of them from Mexico, who return each year under the H-2A program. “We bring in Mexicans because we know their culture and their way of working,” Sergio explains. “That helps a lot with communication and respect. If someone leaves, we ask that their replacement be someone they know, so they can adapt quickly to the system.”
But for him, they are not just workers. “The best thing,” he says with a twinge of emotion in his voice, “is to see how they thrive. Some have already built their own houses, bought new cars, and sent their children to school. We organize a dinner every year, at the end of the harvest or at Christmas, to thank them.” He pauses, remembering a moment that he cherishes: “One couple got up in the middle of dinner and thanked us. They told us, ‘We worked for 20 years with a company and were never able to do anything. Since we’ve been with you, we’ve bought a house, a car, and paid for our children’s schooling.’ That made me feel that it was all worth it.” Silvia adds: “When we travel to Mexico, the families welcome us with food and a big embrace. They say to us, ‘Thank you for giving our husbands work. Thank you for our children now being in college.’ That’s priceless.”
Sergio knows that the success of a farm is not measured only in bushels or dollars, but in the human impact it leaves behind. “Every apple we harvest carries the effort of many families. We are just the bridge.” With an optimistic outlook, he talks about the future: “We want to have our own packing plant or, at least, transparent partnerships. We want a fair price, but also stability. It’s not just about producing, but about building something lasting. So that our children and our workers can continue to grow.”
Rosario Brothers Farm continues to grow, not only in acres or production, but in vision, dignity, and hope.
