‘‘At the time, I could see Dad and other people in the industry starting to get sick – cholesterol, heart problems, blood pressure – and that’s absolutely down to the chemicals we used.’’

Back when the orchard was doused in chemicals, there were no snakes to watch out for or insects burrowing into the apples. ‘‘We killed everything. I can tell you the difference, because I’ve been conventional and I’ve been organic. I’ve seen what those chemicals can do, and let me tell you, they’re harsh.’’

Since chemicals were banished from Petty’s, Mustafa’s father’s health has improved. But it took him a while to get used to the realities of organic farming.

There’s as little as five per cent waste each year from conventional crops, but in organic orchards, spoilage accounts for about 30–35 per cent.

‘‘During the first four to five years, we weren’t even breaking even. Dad said to me, ‘Mate, we’re going to have to live in a tent’. I wondered what I had done, but then it started to work out.’’

Throw in a freak weather event like the hail on Christmas day and there’s another 40 per cent of the year’s crop gone.

Mustafa predicts it will take the orchard about two years to recover from the storms. But despite the struggle, he wouldn’t go back to using chemicals. ‘‘Because the thing is, you just can’t beat the taste.’’

THE JAM MAKER

Nellie DiPietro spends most of her days making strawberry jam – but don’t ask her to eat it.

‘‘I’ve been making it for so long I think I’ve gone off it,’’ she laughs. The chief jam maker at the Warrandyte Berry Farm says she “never really was a jam person”.

But don’t let her aversion fool you.

Her daughter, Frances Pantalone, loves the stuff. So did family patriarch Tony, who died in 2005. ‘‘He used to spread it on his toast an inch thick,’’ DiPietro recalls.

What began as second fiddle to the couple’s fruit shop soon became a full-time job. Every day for 10 months of the year, they sell the jam from a roadside cart outside the farm. The family also sells house-made pasta, ice cream and fresh strawberries.

‘‘We do it because people come back and tell you how nice it is, so you keep it going,’’ DiPietro says.

The jam is made simply. ‘‘I weigh up the strawberries, weigh up the sugar and then put some lemon juice in it to sit. That’s about it,’’ she explains.

Every jar of jam contains about 200 grams of strawberries, picked from the neat rows covering the hill beside Warrandyte-Ringwood Road.

Standing at the top of the field, Pantalone ponders why local produce makers are so important. ‘‘We’re a family business, not a corporation and I think people should support what we have around here. We’ve got so much opportunity here and it breaks my heart that everything gets imported.’’

Each guest at the Longest Lunch will receive a jar of her mum’s jam.

THE WINEMAKER

The soil at Kellybrook Winery in Wonga Park might be rocky and unforgiving, “but it is superbly terrible for growing wine’’, says second-generation winemaker Phil Kelly.

Kellybrook’s new winemaker Rob Hall agrees. ‘‘If the soil’s good for growing vegetables, it’s too good for growing vines. Good soil creates lots and lots of leaf and too much shade,’’ he explains.

Hall wears the grin of someone who’s on to a good thing. The 38-year-old winemaker was lured away from highly regarded Mount Mary Vineyard in Lilydale this year to implement what his boss, Phil Kelly, calls a philosophy of winemaking.

But Hall says it’s less philosophy than an application of simple core values: let it linger in the barrel to build more complexity.

Kellybrook makes table wines, sparkling wines and crisp, dry apple cider. Guests at the lunch will be treated to the label’s signature riesling and other wines of interest.

Kellybrook has been a family business since 1962, initially making cider from the property’s apples. Today, vines outnumber apple trees.

A tiny team makes it happen each year, keeping the output small compared with other vineyards. ‘‘The focus is quality, not quantity,’’ Kelly says.

‘‘We pick the fruit off the vine, put it on to the trailer, press it and mature it. That’s the benefit of a small winery: it’s straight from the vineyard and straight through the winery.’’

At Kellybrook, everyone gets their hands dirty, especially Hall, whose hands are stained a deep purple. He has spent the morning removing yeast from sparkling red wine.

‘‘You can always pick the winemakers who don’t do any work: their hands are clean.’’

Warrandyte World's Longest Lunch is on Friday, March 2 at noon-4pm on the Banks of the Yarra River, Warrandyte. The event is organised by Manningham Council and Box Hill Institute as part of the Melbourne Food and Wine Festival. Bookings close on February 24. Details: call 9840 9310.