Let’s say you want to become a raisin farmer. This is probably a bad business model if you live in, say, northern Minnesota, but in California’s San Joaquin Valley it makes a lot of sense, since that’s where most U.S. raisins—and half the raisins in the world—come from. You can see the Sun-Maid and Dole Food fields as you drive along the highway, their grapes shriveling in the sun. So you move to Fresno, buy some land, grow some grapes, turn them into raisins and then sell them. Wait, not so fast. Did you give part of your crop to the federal raisin reserve? Last month the Supreme Court ruled on an obscure little case called Horne v. Department of Agriculture, brought by a California raisin farmer who claims that by requiring him to pay into this so-called raisin reserve, the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) is illegally confiscating his private property. The case didn’t attract much media attention because the unanimous ruling was just a logistical one—it was kicked it back to a lower court—that was dwarfed by the gay-marriage and voting-rights decisions, which, understandably, are much bigger political issues than dried fruit. Still, for most of us the discovery of a governmental raisin hoard will count as a question-raising surprise. Where are they kept? Why are they kept? Is the American economy in danger of being thrust into recession by an avalanche of underpriced raisins? What other piles of fruit are out there, and, more importantly, can we eat them?