Friday, July 30, 2010

Hipster Supported Agriculture

The problem with Hipster Supported Agriculture, is that the Hipsters, at least the ones I know, were hard to convince about the value of food-for-labor. I've kept one victim, um ah HELPER, in a continuous supply of swiss chard (which she planted) and walnut butter from my uncle-in-law's farm. My son, hipster-extraordinaire, has gotten plenty of food, sans the labor, but since he put in all the hardscaping over the years, I can't really complain.

Today I got to work at a different site with an entirely unknown bunch of kids, the Service Learning Program from Chicago's Mather High, at the Peterson Garden Project, where I'm one of the core volunteers.

Project volunteer Ann Van Z arranged for the group of 30 kids and their 4 supervisors to come and weed whack. They were disappointed that they didn't get to pick any vegetables, but did a fantastic job cleaning up the perimeter of the huge lot, and clearing the weeds in the paths. Several of them also got a lesson in watering, so all the plots that needed it got watered as well. (I did my best to try to find 30 radishes in the Farm2Give plots, but there weren't really 30 ready to be picked. Upside is I have a nice big bunch of huge radishes ready to take to the Lincoln Foundation Food Pantry.)

I also talked about why it's so important to control your food source, demonstrating a planting of the last open bed at the garden with lettuce, chard, a mesclun mix, and, what the heck, some zucchini. If no one claims the plot, we can make it another food pantry plot.

One of the things that astounded me is what these kids didn't know. They didn't know where seeds come from. They didn't know what lettuce looks like growing in the ground. They didn't know what dirt is made of, and a couple of them professed to be appalled that we were growing plants in horse manure. (Several also didn't know what manure is. It was quite amusing listening to the two contingents- kids and adults- dancing around the word "shit.") So I explained about dirt, and how it contributes to nutrition and flavor, and how chemical additives and fertilizer, far from enriching the soil, actually deplete it of the natural ecology; if there's no nutrients in the dirt, there's no nutrition in the food.

I hope we made some converts. Pictures from the two hours that the kids were there is on the Peterson Garden Facebook page; I encouraged them to tag themselves, and to join the site.

It's not a garden, it's a revolution.

And maybe these are the future leaders of it.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

On the garden meander

I managed to take pictures of just three gardens on yesterday's Rogers Park Garden Group garden "meander," not including the several dozen people in my own garden, which was on the tour. The walk started and ended with semi-public gardens. First, the lovely formal courtyard of Rogers Park landmark the "Casa Bonita;" if you drive up Ridge Avenue into Evanston, you know this building. It's the big white terracotta courtyard apartments just south of St. Scholastica High School, which is where the walk ended.

The Casa Bonita's blinding white courtyard and pristine central pool make you feel like you've stepped out of Chicago and into Mexico City; all that's missing are the palm trees. The sound of water, with two running fountains, sets the mood.

Further down Ridge, we got to go into the "sunken" gardens behind two of three wonderful Prairie School bungalows on the east side of Ridge, a decades-long desire of mine. From their front yards on Ridge to their backyards there is a 10-foot drop, so you get to actually walk downhill, an unusual sensation for a Chicago property. Both houses had ponds dominating the spaces, and Ridge-level decks overlooking them, creating cozy, shaded walkways for a hot day.

A spectaluar 15-foot-wide hibiscus with dinner plate sized blooms was a highlight of these.

My house was next; the best thing about being on the walk was how people really understood the "garden as canvas" aspect of the design, with at least one person complimenting the layout as "painterly." Thank you everyone who walked through for your lovely remarks. It was wonderful sharing my garden with you.

From my house the meander started meandering back towards the starting point, dropping into a shady back yard with several inviting seating areas and a free standing stone fountain that made me want to just sit down and drink a nice smoothie like the one below. The eye-popping centerpiece here was a Smoke Bush hedge--gorgeous.

The last 3 gardens on the walk were street-side gardens; a corner vegetable garden with a large lawn, another courtyard garden and the parkway gardens that were funded by an Adopt the Public Way grant that the RPGG gives out each year.

The walk ended at St. Scholastica's wonderful 14-acre property on Ridge. The Benedictine sisters there host a large community garden, a garden for the on-site monastery, 100-year-old concord grape vines, several fountains, a labyrinth, a grotto, and what must be several miles of woodsy and meadow walks as well as a regulation track and an athletic field. (Since my daughter went to high school here I was already familiar with this gem.) The Sisters invite people to come in and respectfully tour the gardens, on their own, any time.

Rogers Park Garden Group keeps their meanders (as they call them) short and compact-- you can do the whole thing in about an hour even if you stand around talking with the gardeners, and they feed you at the end of it. You must join the group to attend: a steal at $10, since they do several lectures, a huge plant sale and other events all year. Their next event is a tour of Rick Bayless' garden; to join and get tickets, go to their website.

Cucumber-mint smoothie
One large cucumber, seeded, cubed and frozen
coupla Tablespoons to 1/4 cup mint syrup, depending on how sweet you like your smoothies
1 cup raw milk yogurt
1/2 cup whole milk
honey to taste, optional (if you like your smoothies very sweet)

To make the mint syrup, combine a large handful of mint in 1 1/2 cups of water, 1 teaspoon lemon juice and 3/4 cup sugar. Bring to a boil and reduce to 1 cup. Strain (and discard the greens). Add a few drops of mint extract to punch up the flavor.

Put all ingredients in a blender and pulse until combined, then blend on liquify until completely smooth.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

What I need to get through the winter

In which I pretend to be Barbara Kingsolver.

Do you think about what you eat? Or do you go to the grocery store and grab stuff off the shelf? Do you know how much food you consume? When you start thinking about growing it yourself, you need to start thinking about "how much."

I started out with the idea that the kids should know where food comes from. So I planted tomatoes. A friend gave me some raspberry canes (the first edible I ever grew). Then peppers. Then beans, onions, carrots. Then I started thinking--I wonder if I can get through a summer without buying any produce (yes). Then it became-- how long into the the autumn can I stay out of the produce aisle? (a long time). Here's where I've gotten to this year:

Fruit syrup (for treats and drinks)
• Current use: about 1 wine-bottle full every 10 days
• Fresh fruit needed per bottle: 1 pint
• # days from last summer fruit harvest to first summer fruit harvest: 270

I need to freeze 27 pints of fruit. Since I don’t grow more berries than we consume, this can all come from the farmers market. I’ve currently been buying 2 to freeze for every one we consume each week.

Tomatoes
• Current use: One whole tomato and one tomato sauce dish per week
• Fresh fruit needed per: 6-8 tomatoes per quart of sauce or pint of paste, plus some just peeled and frozen whole
• weeks from harvest end to harvest start: 40
• fruits per plant, 10-20; need 30+ plants. I don’t have it, only have 10, plus 5 cherries, giving me a maximum yield of 200 (more likely 100+), so I can do at most 15+ quarts of sauce/whole/paste in some combination (probably do paste, since it takes up less room, in smaller jars) I can also stretch this by making as much of the summer’s meals as possible from the cherry varieties.

Winter Squash family
• Current use: 1-4 dishes per week (stews, casseroles, soup, baked goods)
• Fresh fruit needed per: one squash or pumpkin can yield 2-3 meals/uses pulped.
• # weeks from harvest end to harvest start (zucchini) 34

I need 68-130 meals, or 40+ fruits. I have 9 vines, so this is actually doable, betw root-cellar type storage and frozen pulp. Amazing.

Corn, peas, beans, other “side” veggies
• Current use: 2 cups per day
• # days from harvest end to harvest start: 200
Beans a dead loss, won’t get more than we consume immediately (thank you evil furfaces); I have 80 corn stalks, which might yield 2-6 ears per stalk. Gonna need to learn how to preserve corn, because this is also doable.

Roots
• Current use: 2+ lbs per week (3 to 7 items per lb, carrots, turnips, parsnips, beets. I don’t grow potatoes)
• # weeks from harvest end to harvest start (including overwintered): 24
• need 100-400 items. Again, a possible winner. I have 80 parsnips, 200 turnips, 40 beets, countless carrots.

Misc.
pesto, eggplant
• Current use: 1 meal per week
• Fresh needed per: 1 quart of whatever I preserve
• # weeks from harvest end to harvest start: 38
• I have enough parsley and basil to preserve several quarts of pesto (in addition to preserving for use as flavoring); eggplants still up in the air (no fruit yet :(, but there are 12 flowers on four plants, which if they all fruit is 12 quarts of baba ganoush, or peeled, blanched frozen ep slices)

While you gear up for preserving, here's a treat to make with the wonderful apricots available for another couple of weeks.

Apricot-honey cookies

3 eggs
2 teaspoons baking soda
4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup honey
1 cup apricot compote (thin apricot jam. or any thin jam)
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon orange extract (for apricot. Try different extracts with different fruits)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).

Beat eggs well. Dissolve baking soda with a little milk. Mix together the rest of the ingredients to make a soft dough. Spoon onto a parchment-paper covered baking sheet in teaspoonsful. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes. DO NOT OVER BAKE.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The allure of housewifery

I spent the morning cooking and preserving--crackers, pita, veggie stock, pesto, mayonnaise. I spent yesterday giving my son's old bedroom a thorough, deep cleaning, and repainted it (for the first time in 15 years). I spend an hour every morning in the garden, and carve out time for the CSA and what little grocery shopping I do (which involves several stores as a rule, since I only buy from locally-owned mom-and-pops when at all possible).

It seems like it should be drudgery, but it isn't. It is probably the one thing I do--taking care of my home and my family--where I am absolutely confident that I know what I'm doing.

In my public life, as an arts management consultant and a teacher, there is always a niggling sense that I'm not quite up to snuff, that I don't quite fit in, that the world is a scary place with nuances that I will never grasp.

It's not about control. I know that I'm not really, when it comes down to it, any more in control at home than anywhere else-- I can cook all day and then have everyone call at the last minute and tell me they won't be home for dinner. I'm not sure anyone really notices the deep cleaning, since no one ever comments on it. My tiny act of revolution-shopping locally-affects the economy and the zeitgeist not one whit.

Perhaps it's about ambition, or lack of it. I'm not an ambitious person, so excelling in the public sphere seems pointless. I only want to do what I do; I don't really want to run things, and if I'm already the best at something, knowing that is mostly good enough for me.

I think that housewifery-the cooking, cleaning, nurturing and creating a household--speaks to women on an epigenetic level. This is what we did for eons, long before the industrial revolution took the means of production (which used to belong to women) out of our hands. It's only been 200 years since the weaving, and then the farming, and then the sewing, and then the cooking, and now even the childcare was industrialized and removed from the home. Along with it came a massive PR effort to convince us that these things were drudgery, and unworthy of our talent and our time, that somehow, because they were "women's work" they were valueless. Industrialization removed the activity from the homes of the people and the hands of women, and then labeled those hands, and their owners, as idle, vain, and useless.

I don't feel nearly as idle, vain or useless at home, up to the elbows in bread dough, as I do in a modern grocery store, confronted by aisle upon aisle of incomprehensibly varied non-foods, or in an office, where I've been delegated one tiny part of some massive effort to plug into the gears of commerce.

I know young mothers who count it as a point of pride that they don't know how to cook and have no time to clean. They hire others to do these things. If they aren't valuable enough to do themselves, how must they feel about the people that do it for them?

Goat cheese crackers

10 ounces fresh goat cheese, at room temperature
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 T honey
3 T sour cream
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 T kosher salt

Beat the goat cheese, honey, salt and butter together until smooth. Add the flour and beat until well blended. Divide the dough in half or thirds, and place each half on a piece of waxed paper about 18-inches long Gently roll the dough back and forth, using the countertop as a base, to crate two 12-inch logs or 3 8" logs. Wrap each log in waxed paper and refrigerate for at least 3 hours and up to 3 days; it should be very stiff.

When ready to cook, preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C) for thick crackers or 300 for the thin ones. Take one log out of the refrigerator, and using a serrated knife, cut it into 1/2-inch thick slices for a crumbly, shortbread-like cracker, or as paper thin as you can for a crisp cracker. On an ungreased baking sheet (or lined with parchment) place the slices 1-inch apart. Repeat with the second log, keeping the unused dough refrigerated until needed.

For the thicker crackers, bake for 30 minutes then turn and continue baking until the crackers are a rich golden color, 15 to 20 minutes more. For thinner crackers, bake 20 minutes, check the color. Should be an even golden brown. Add time incrementally until done. Transfer them to a cooling rack and let cool completely. They can be stored in an airtight container for about a week or in the freezer for up to six months.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Letting the garden call the shots

One of the things that gardening teaches you is how to let go. Every gardener starts the season with a plan-- the lettuce gives way to the peas which lead to the chard, then switch over to beans, after which the broccoli starts bearing. Mother nature is extremely clever this way.

You can find books and charts and advice that will give you a perfect succession of veggies so that you have your own fresh farmer's market out back all summer, with something new just about to ripen every week.

And then the rabbits eat all the beans. And the slugs get the broccoli. Because, as every gardener knows, Mother Nature, while extremely clever, is the original Bitch Goddess.

You can be a gardener all your life and still get caught flat-footed by each year's special problem. Last year-no tomatoes. This year the carrots were slow and the rabbits prolific. I decided to try pole beans this year, just because I never have, and turns out I hate growing them. They're slow and ugly and don't bear very well. But the space is committed. So between them and the rabbits, no beans this year.

On the other hand, the swiss chard took off like a rocket, and has continued to bear and bear and bear through storms, cold, heat, drought and critters. So I've adapted my expectations, and my menu. You can plant whatever you like, but the garden is in charge.

Portobello-stuffed swiss chard leaves

20 large Swiss chard leaves
2-3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil *
1 shallot or onion,diced
3 Portobello mushrooms diced
2-3 Tbsp soy sauce
1 cup rice*, cooked
3 Tbsp crushed walnuts*
herbs, dried or fresh, to taste (I used tarragon)
1/4 cup chicken or vegetable stock

bowl of ice water

Preheat oven to 350°F (180°C).

Wash chard and cut stems from leaves. Dice stems very fine and saute in the soy sauce until the liquid is gone. Set aside in a large mixing bowl.

In a pot of boiling water, blanch chard leaves for 1 minute, then immerse immediately in a bowl of ice water, drain and set aside. (This will stop them from continuing to cook).

In a skillet over medium heat, saute onion in olive oil until just going soft, add mushrooms, and cook 3 - 4 minutes until all oil and liquid is absorbed. Mix with chopped chard stems, walnuts and cooked rice. Add seasonings.

Carefully lay out chard leaves-- lay one leaf then place a second one across it in the middle at right angle s(so you have a chard "X"). In the centre spoon some stuffing, then fold over the crossed leaf, tuck in the corners, and fold the bottom leaf to create a flat pocket. Place the stuffed leaves in a lightly greased 9x9" baking dish with stock in the bottom.

Cover and bake 15 - 20 minutes. Makes 10 child-fist sized wraps.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Eight things I'd hate to give up

I want to save the planet. I really do. And I'm trying. I've gotten pretty good about finding local sources, or at least local merchants, for everything from groceries to motor oil. And I reduce-reuse-recyle like nobody's business. I make my own baking powder for pity's sake. But there are some things I just don't want to give up. Here's a partial list.

Disposable toilet paper
Did you know that there are websites that propose that you get reusable toilet paper? (Also menstrual pads). I mean, I used cloth diapers for my kids, but even I have my limits. I want it to be soft, too. It's a dissolute American thing, I guess.

Tootsie rolls
Forget fair trade. I love me some rubber chocolate. And those little fake colored ones that pretend to be fruit flavored? Yeah, those.

Oranges. Avocados. Lemons.
All those tropical fruits. I live in Illinois, but this is one of those times when I thing "global economy, baby!"

Sugar

And not the kind made from beets. Real live cane sugar. Hey--I'm close to the Mississippi (okay, couple hundred miles. That's close, right?) And cane sugar grows right at the other end! Just a quick zip up the Big River.

Door to door transportation
Using a non-human power source. Biking is great. I believe in it! Healthy, planet-saving, and easy. So why do I always find myself driving two miles in the car? Terrible. I should be shot.

Saran wrap
Does a product come any more unsustainable? Or more useful?

Rubber flip flops
Except they aren't rubber anymore, which would biodegrade. They're 100% petroleum byproduct. The rattan ones give me blisters.

Apricot Potato Salad
Fortunately, I don't have to give this up, because I made it myself using fresh, local, whole, organic ingredients.

Any kind of potatoes you've got, one-two potatoes per serving. I used russets today, because that's what I had.
1 small apricot for each potato, or 1 large one for each 2-3, pitted and diced
2 serano peppers per each 3-4 servings, diced very fine
sea salt to taste



Dressing (Adjust for size of salad. This makes enough for 2-3 servings):
Whisk together:
1/3 cup mild oil, such as canola (nut or olive oil overwhelms the apricot)
>1/4 cup wine vinegar
> 1/4 cup honey
ground white pepper to taste

Dice and boil the potatoes until soft but not falling apart. Drain and cool. Add the remaining ingredients and salt to taste.

This will keep for weeks, except for the so-yummy-you'll-gobble-it-right-up part.

What would you hate to give up to save the planet?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

It's not always the gardener working

The thing about a garden is, it's a lot of work. But it's not always the gardener that's working.

In March and April, it certainly is the gardener-- the dirt, unfortunately, doesn't shovel itself. I actually love the spring prep work-- clearing out the winter debris and hunting through the mulch for the first sprouts. This is the time to plan new beds or reshape old ones. To amend the dirt and start watching for overwintered spinach, turnips, parsnips, onions and leeks to isolate for seed saving. So this is grunt labot time.

In April and May, the seeds and starts go in-- time for stoop labor, and still the gardener's workload. We anxiously track the rain and the temperature, the frost and the wind, and watch for the first little beans elbowing their way through the dirt, and trying to remember which brassica that is poking its heart-shaped cotelydons out (because you just know you forgot to label it).

In June the work tapers off. Oh, we keep finding stuff out there to keep us busy, but we're fooling ourselves, because from planting to harvest, there's really nothing to do-- we pass the heavy lifting off to the plants themselves, and to their insect and bird and wind pollinators. In June in the internet age, most of the gardening is happening on line in panicky "why are my tomatoes so small" posts.

There's still not that much to do in July-- thanks to the neighborhood rabbits, I, at least, have no beans to harvest; they've harvested them all for me. (It doesn't seem fair that I leave some for them but they don't leave any for me.) There's a little bit of planting as the spring vegetables like peas and greens and radishes are ending-- time for the fall roots and the last-gasp try for broccoli. The herbs are starting to go a little wild, so there's cutting and preserving to start.

But for the most part, I can sit back for a couple of weeks, sip some mint tea in the heat, and wait for the goddess work her magic.

Goat cheese crackers
10 ounces fresh goat cheese, at room temperature
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 T honey
3 T sour cream
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 T kosher salt

Beat the goat cheese, honey, salt and butter together until smooth. Add the flour and beat until well blended. Divide the dough in half or thirds, and place each half on a piece of waxed paper about 18-inches long Gently roll the dough back and forth, using the countertop as a base, to crate two 12-inch logs or 3 8" logs. Wrap each log in waxed paper and refrigerate for at least 3 hours and up to 3 days; it should be very stiff.

When ready to cook, preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C) for thick crackers or 300 for the thin ones. Take one log out of the refrigerator, and using a serrated knife, cut it into 1/2-inch thick slices for a crumbly, shortbread-like cracker, or as paper thin as you can for a crisp cracker. On an ungreased baking sheet (or lined with parchment) place the slices 1-inch apart. Repeat with the second log, keeping the unused dough refrigerated until needed.

For the thicker crackers, bake for 30 minutes then turn and continue baking until the crackers are a rich golden color, 15 to 20 minutes more. For thinner crackers, bake 25 minutes then check the color. Should be an even golden brown. Add time incrementally until done. Transfer them to a cooling rack and let cool completely. They can be stored in an airtight container for about a week or in the freezer for up to six months. These crackers will not be quite as crisp as my regular cracker recipe.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Nasturtiums are not just for salads

I’m growing Nasturtium 'Spitfire' for the Garden Bloggers Grow Project. (Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.)

I had thought to grow them up my trellis, but you have to train them since they aren't really climbers--they need to be tied, and the stems keep breaking, because they want to trail. Fortunately, I also planted some along the high edge of one of my vegetable beds, so I'll let them just trail there, and maybe tie a few up the smaller plant stand that they are under.

The ones on the gate and back by my fence are small-too shady for these, but the latest planted-under a plant stand- seem to be thriving.

Nasturtiums, of course, are not just a beautiful flower. They are also a garden beneficial, attracting aphids away from more desirable plants like tomatoes, and are also edible. I often pop a nasturtium flower in my mouth when I'm working outside, for the quick delicious peppery taste, and for a little water.

Recently,the getinthegarden.com blog came up with the wonderful idea of nasturtium dolma. My leaves were not quite large enough (you need palm-sized leaves to be able to roll them), but I made this layered casserole.

Nasturtium Dolma
1 1/2 cups cooked pearl barley
1 small summer squash, diced
1/4 cup pine nuts
small onion, diced
mushroom (any type), diced
cardamom, garam masala, sea salt, black pepper to taste

Stir fry the vegetables and nuts in a little sesame oil; add the spices and continue to saute until the veggies are coated with the oil and spices. Add the cooked barley and saute another 5 minutes or so, until it's all hot and mixed.

Lay out several nasturtium leaves and lay a spoonful of filling on each, then fold and place them side by side in a loaf pan so that the edges of the leaves hold each other up like little envelopes. You don't need to brine or pre-cook the leaves; laying the hot filling on them cooks them slightly, making them a little easier to handle.

Bake at 300F/145C for 20 minutes. Serve with yogurt-cucumber sauce.

(Warning- they fall apart, but are delicious)