The Apricot Capital: How Brentwood Became a Fruit Basket Legend

On a sunlit summer afternoon in Brentwood, California, the scent of ripening fruit hangs in the air. Though today’s visitors might pass suburban housing tracts and bustling farmers’ markets, Brentwood’s roots run deep into the soil—roots nourished by apricots. Once hailed as the 'Apricot Capital of the World,' Brentwood’s orchards helped shape both the land and its community.

The transformation began in the late 1800s, when railroads extended into eastern Contra Costa County. The promise of distant markets was irresistible to local farmers, among them John Marsh, whose Rancho Los Méganos laid the groundwork for modern Brentwood. As families like the Garin and Filice clans arrived, they recognized the valley's alluvial soil and Mediterranean climate as ideal for fruit cultivation. Apricots, particularly the Blenheim variety, soon flourished.

By the early 1900s, Brentwood was a patchwork of orchards. In 1910, the Brentwood Fruit Company opened, and dozens of packing sheds and canneries soon followed. Harvest season transformed the town: horse carts piled high with golden fruit rolled through dusty streets, and the metallic rhythm of canning echoed from the sheds. It was a community-wide effort. The Garin family, for example, employed neighbors and relatives, with children like Tony Garin learning the trade alongside their parents. Japanese-American families, such as the Nagatas, also played an integral role, tending orchards and hand-packing fruit for shipment nationwide.

During the 1920s and ’30s, Brentwood’s apricots gained national renown. At its peak, the region shipped thousands of tons each year, dried and canned for markets as far away as Chicago and New York. Local newspapers began referring to Brentwood as 'The Apricot Capital.'

But time brought change. After World War II, a wave of development swept across California. Orchards, once stretching as far as the eye could see, made way for new homes and businesses. By the 1970s, only a handful of apricot growers remained—among them the Filice family, who held out against the tide of suburbanization. As John Filice once recalled in a 1976 interview, 'We watched the orchards shrink, but we kept the trees as long as we could. There’s something about the land—you don’t forget it.'

Despite the changes, Brentwood’s agricultural spirit endures. The Harvest Time Festival, held each summer, draws crowds eager for a taste of homegrown fruit. Local stands—like Dwelley Family Farms and Frog Hollow Farm—still sell apricots at their sweetest, picked at dawn and gone by nightfall. For many, a bite of a Brentwood apricot is more than a snack—it’s a memory of the town’s golden era.

Why did Brentwood’s apricots become so beloved? It’s partly the land itself. The unique microclimate produces fruit that’s intensely sweet and aromatic, with a subtle tang that lingers. Even today, bakers and chefs seek out Brentwood apricots for jams, pies, and cobblers—each one a tribute to the town’s history.

Brentwood’s story didn’t end with apricots. As the orchards waned, cherries, peaches, and wine grapes took their place. U-pick farms now dot the landscape, inviting families to reconnect with the land and its traditions. Yet, as longtime resident Maria Nagata observes, 'People still ask about the apricots. There’s a pride in knowing they came from here.'

Brentwood has changed, but the legacy of its orchards remains. Next time you bite into a sun-warmed apricot at a roadside stand, remember: you’re tasting a piece of California history—one that’s as sweet as the fruit itself.