Harvesting

The end of summer comes faster each year it seems, and with it comes the bittersweet flood of freshly harvested garden vegetables. Though I adore the taste of sweet yellow pear tomatoes straight from the vine and the crisp crunch of home-grown cucumbers, this last mad influx of produce means that the long winter and a time of fallow fields is not far behind. Already the squash vines are browning and fading away, the herbs are setting seeds, and the sunflowers are bowing their heads to the ever-shortening hours of sunlight. I will surely miss the wonderful flavors of summer when the greenery is gone and the garden is bathed in frost.

Yet there are many ways to preserve the pleasures of the harvest long into the winter. For the moment, my crafting life must take a back seat to food preservation. Hours and hours spent now skinning, seeding and simmering fresh tomatoes means having a taste of summer in January in the form of spaghetti sauce kept fresh in a chest freezer. I have been busy putting up dozens of pints of freezer pickles, sweet relish, tomato sauce, and quarts of mashed potatoes made with red and white potatoes from our bountiful crop. Some things are dried with a dehydrator and packed in glass jars, such as oregano, basil, chocolate mint, and sage. Other vegetables can be kept for weeks in a cool section of the basement; the balance of our potatoes is stored in perforated brown paper bags sitting on top of an unused air hockey table. Not the ideal root cellar arrangement, but it will have to do until we can build a more proper storage area.

So how did the garden grow this year and what is still left to be harvested? It was a strange summer in terms of weather. Early warmth was followed by weeks of rain. Then a cool August was followed by a hot and humid first week of September. Mid-summer rains caused the tomatoes to stay green until late in August meaning a relentless number of red fruits are now coming in. Green and wax beans were plentiful again this year. The sage grew like weeds. Our two-year-old peach tree produced a dozen delicious fruits. The cucumbers flourished on trellises, a method we will use next year as well. Radishes happily germinated and almost all the garlic plants produced healthy bulbs. The new asparagus bed is now well populated by lacy asparagus ferns. On the downside, the squashes were attacked by vine borers yet again, causing a reduced winter squash yield, although a few new summer squash bush varieties were very productive. In the future we'll plant only the bush type to save space and make the borers more manageable. Unfortunately beetles and grasshoppers feasted on the basil and kale, making the crop mostly unusable, and the broccoli never produced heads for the second year in a row.

There were a few wonderful surprises in the garden this summer. After a poor showing by potatoes planted in containers in 2007, we planted several in-ground rows of plants this year. Having survived an early attack of Colorado potato beetles, the plants went on to surpass our wildest expectations by yielding over 110 pounds of potatoes! And before you ask, no, we don't have a farm! We live in a suburban neighborhood and have a back yard garden that comprises only about 3% of our land. It is amazing how much food can be produced in a small area if the popular focus on large expanses of green lawn is traded for a love of well-placed, intensive gardens.


One other interesting twist occurred in a last minute raised bed we created in our south-facing front yard. Running out of space and time, we tossed some watermelon seeds and the extra home-grown tomato seedlings into this new bed. We waited and waited and yet no little watermelon seedlings appeared. Then, one day, seemingly overnight, watermelon vines began covering the bare soil at an incredible rate. The prolonged heat in the front yard apparently fueled their growth spurt and soon several green melons were forming under the lush foliage. One of these green beauties is now over 18 inches long! We are anxiously waiting for the day that this giant surprise baby can be opened. Will the center be sweet, red and juicy? Or will it be pale and lacking flavor? Only time will tell.

Like the hidden and mysterious interior of the watermelon, one never knows what will grow in the garden each year; its progress cannot be rushed and the outcome is always unpredictable. Sometimes waiting for the harvest can be a stressful and tedious process. Those long, quiet days when nothing seems to be happening are masking the intense changes taking place underneath the surface. Watching a garden grow builds patience and forces our acceptance of things beyond our control. It develops our appreciation of success and failure as two sides of the same coin; the flourishing of one thing balances the shortcomings of another. Gardening encourages us to be unafraid of trying something new for the results may lead us in an entirely unexpected and rewarding direction. Of course these lessons are more acceptable in hindsight at the end of the season. I am sure I will need to relearn them again next year as I curse at the bugs and wait impatiently for fruit to ripen. Hindsight may be 20/20 but it has a short memory. Luckily Mother Nature is always willing to repeat the lesson.

Growing Local

Daily cooking tasks always seem more pleasant and interesting in the summer when fresh, local produce is arriving in great abundance. It is no surprise that my culinary creativity peaks from July through September. In addition to the herbs, fruits and vegetables growing in my own small garden, we have been reaping the edible benefits of our purchased share in a local CSA called Rabbit's Dance Farm, located just off the beaten path in Cumberland, RI, near the the Massachusetts border. This lovely pocket of farmland is tucked away on a small back road that is not far from the commercial shopping strip on Route 114 in Woonsocket, RI. One would never know that this unassuming rural gem existed so close to big box megamarts like Walmart and Lowes. In contrast to the oceans of pavement and energy-draining lights of the stores on the main road, Rabbit's Dance is a quiet oasis of trees and fields gently striped with rows of lush, green plants in various stages of bloom and growth.

I came upon a mention of Rabbit's Dance last year while perusing the listings of local farms at Farm Fresh Rhode Island, a comprehensive and informative site for budding localvores like me which provides links to area CSAs, farms, farmers markets, community gardens, and related events. I was delighted to find an organic CSA within a 15 minute drive of my home. Right away I contacted Rabbit's Dance manager, Kristin Lewis, to inquire about a share. I was just in time to sign up for a 2007 winter share, which offered delicious fresh fall produce such as mixed greens, squashes, potatoes, garlic, sweet potatoes, beets and carrots. This year I am splitting a full summer share with a friend. Though I have enlarged my gardening area at home, I know I cannot grow all my own produce. Buying supermarket chain fruits and vegetables is an option, but buying locally-grown food has many advantages both for my family's health and for the well-being of the environment. Obtaining additional produce from a CSA or farmers market nicely fills gaps in my home food production.

"CSA" stands for Community Supported Agriculture. A CSA is a partnership between a local farm and the community which is mutually beneficial: community members buy shares in the upcoming harvest in advance, which pays for farm expenses such as seeds, labor, land costs, and equipment maintenance, and in exchange, the shareholders receive a portion of the seasonal produce grown on the farm. Most CSAs expect their shareholders to spend a little time volunteering on the farm, either helping on share distribution days, in the fields, or in the greenhouse. Spending some time on the farm and interacting with farm owners or managers and other shareholders increases interactions between members of the community, builds a personal relationship between growers and consumers, keeps local farmland in food production and out of development, and allows people to develop closer connections to the origins of their food. For more information on Community Supported Agriculture and to find a CSA in your area, visit LocalHarvest.org.

Basil from Rabbit's Dance waits to become pesto!

Having tried my hand at growing food at home, I know how hard it is to be successful in the face of variable weather conditions, animal theft (oh those woodchucks and chipmunks are hungry!), insect invasions, and plant disease outbreaks. I have great respect for local farmers, especially owners of small farms, who persist despite all these natural barriers, and while being pressured to compete with "cheap" food that is sold at big chain stores. However, it is becoming more apparent each year that seemingly cheap food has hidden costs in terms of health dangers, increased shipping energy expenses, and loss of natural habitat that highlight how important it is to maintain support for our local food sources. No farmland and no farmers equals no food.

Beyond buying a CSA share, frequenting farmers markets and farm stands are two additional ways to buy local produce as well as to support local food production. Located not more than a few miles from Rabbit's Dance, is the farm stand at Cooks Valley Farm in Wrentham, MA. After having picked up my share at the CSA, it has become my pleasurable habit to drive a few minutes down the road to Cook's to purchase a few fruits and vegetables from the wonderful, large assortment of their own produce grown on site on this 300 year-old family farm. Though Cooks is not an organic farm, they do strive to grow with the least chemical input possible; for example, they use methods such as integrated pest management which is also used by organic growers. I am always amazed by the wide variety of produce that the Cook farm grows. The farm stand, located in the historic, white barn by the side of the road and adjacent to the family farmhouse, displays numerous baskets of lettuce, broccoli, radishes, peppers, squash, peaches, berries (in season), cucumbers, tomatoes, potatoes, onions, corn, amongst other vegetable delights. Right now bunches of garlic can be seen hanging from the barn rafters while curing for future storage. In the fall, the farm has pumpkins, winter squash, and a sizable number of apple varieties available for sale. The stand is open quite late in the year too: I bought bags of their apple seconds to make applesauce just before Christmas last year!

This year, Rabbit's Dance has teamed up with Cooks to offer summer fruit shares and a coupon program for purchasing additional vegetables at the farm stand. The two farms seem a natural blend considering their close proximity and mutual devotion to local food. Since my food shopping this week included the bounty from both farms, I decided to try to make an (almost) entirely local meal.

On the menu:

• Crustless Broccoli, Baby Red Onion, and Cheese Quiche
• Oven-roasted Mixed Summer Squash, Italian Style
• Sliced Fresh Cucumbers

Ingredient origins:

• baby red onions, sweet yellow pepper, cucumbers, summer squash - Rabbit's Dance Farm, Cumberland, RI
• broccoli - Cook's Valley Farm, Wrentham, MA
• garlic - my own garden
• Atwell's Gold cheese - Narragansett Creamery, Providence, RI (sold at Rabbit's Dance)
  
• eggs - Ferrucci Egg Farm (A. Ferrucci & Sons), Milford, MA
• milk - Munroe Dairy, E. Providence, RI (delivered by Maple Farm Dairy, Mendon, MA)
• butter - Kate's Homemade Butter, Old Orchard Beach, ME
• salt and pepper, seasonings, olive oil (not local)

Why not try to make a locally-sourced meal, especially during the summer when produce is readily available? You'll be challenged to think creatively and to explore the food resources in your own area. It will also be an eye-opening experience that will make you look much more closely at the origins of what you are eating.

Bon appetit!


Resources:
What is a "localvore?"
http://www.postoilsolutions.org/localvore

Where to find food grown near you
http://www.localharvest.org

More about CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture)
http://www.localharvest.org/csa/

Farm Fresh RI (CSA, farms and farmers markets)
http://www.farmfreshri.org

Massachusetts CSA Programs
http://www.nofamass.org/programs/csa.php

Massachusetts Farmers Markets
http://www.mass.gov/agr/massgrown/farmers_markets.htm
http://www.nofamass.org/programs/ofg/markets.php

Massachusetts Department of Agriculture Consumer Resources
http://www.mass.gov/agr/massgrown

Rabbit's Dance Farm CSA, Cumberland, RI
http://www.rabbitsdancefarm.com

Cooks Valley Farm, Wrentham, MA
http://www.cooksvalleyfarm.com

Narragansett Creamery
http://www.richeeses.com

Munroe Dairy
http://www.cowtruck.com

Maple Farm Dairy
http://www.maplefarmdairy.com

Kate's Homemade Butter
http://www.kateshomemadebutter.com

Ferrucci Egg Farms
508-473-7015
Milford, MA (sold in local stores and through Maple Farm Dairy)

Creative Composting

Writing has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but my inspiration for it comes in waves, and I don't produce a steady stream of written works all year long. I tend to focus my energies on different projects in different seasons. I haven’t been attending to my writing during the past few months because I have been researching, planning, and nurturing my incipient garden, which is promising to be bigger than it was last year at this time. For the past two summers I have been experimenting with one method of raised bed gardening that reminds me of the ebb and flow of my writing endeavors: lasagna or sheet-mulch planting. For those not familiar with this method, here is a summary. Place a thick layer of newspapers and cardboard over the grass. Soak thoroughly with water. One can construct foot-high, wooden walls for the new garden bed, but it isn’t entirely necessary. Add straw and other organic waste matter – wood chips, kitchen vegetable scraps, grass clippings, leaves, yard trimmings, or any kind of non-toxic plant matter. Then pile on a layer of compost, and mulch generously. One option is to cover this layer cake with a sheet of black plastic to speed up the decomposition process, but it isn’t absolutely necessary. And voila, in a couple of months, depending on the temperature, you will start to have a nice, rich earthy mass of nutrients to feed your plants. No double-digging or sweating for hours with a hoe and shovel trying to encourage our rocky New England soil to part with its rubble. This method builds up rather than excavates down. With any luck, you will also be able to dig down into the rotting pile of biological refuse to find a squirming layer of earthworms busy doing their job churning life into the future soil you have started.

It’s really quite a magical natural process, and it all happens without much effort on the gardener’s part beyond the initial set-up. One can even toss in non-animal food scraps and grass clippings over the course of the year and enrich the pile, heaping on new fodder for future gardening. Keep adding organic matter to the mess as time goes on and the soil just gets better and better. And it all happens underneath the surface, under the cover of mulch or plastic, and completely out of view. The magic happens so subtly that peeking under the outer layer during the incubating period would not be advised. Allow the mystery to stay behind Mother Nature’s magic curtain. It is best just to have faith and believe that, indeed, a voluptuous brown earth, steaming and teeming with vital nutrients, will be waiting to nourish your plants and, in the end, you.

Our "Arbor Garden" with its archway made from a recycled cedar swing set.
Hinged, arched doors were created out of reclaimed, old barn boards.

How does decaying vegetal matter remind me of writing you ask? Well I don’t want to reveal too much of what goes on under my mulch, but trust me, covering up the brain and letting the worms work into that gray matter is an absolutely necessary part of my creative process. I suppose that doesn’t paint a very pretty picture, but I warned you not to peek under the outer layer until it’s time to plant! I’ve been very guilty of lifting up that thought-incubating plastic way too many times before the soil was ripe; I was often repulsed and discouraged against creating anything by the nasty sight of ideas not yet fully ready for growing into fully-leafed projects. Remember: Never peek! Trust that nature is stewing and churning beneath the surface of your skull.

When the time is right, and the temperature has the reached proper level, the stink of rotting thoughts subsides and the pleasantly sweet aroma of creative compost will signal that your mind-garden is ready for cultivation. Lift up the top mulch, throw in some seeds, and watch what grows. A veritable cornucopia of essays and poems, art work, and literary fruits will blossom if you just let the land between your ears lay fallow for a little while. Composing in the compost increases your creative yield. Trust me, decay and dirt are good things despite what your mother may have taught you. Now pardon me while I put back my mulch. My artistic compost pile needs to stew a little longer.

When I am not looking...

...great things grow. I am gradually learning to let go of my natural tendency to fuss over things, like my garden. Planning is necessary, of course, to get the plantings established, and I do put some effort into arranging the vegetables and herbs so that they are next to companions that they like. However, once the plants are in the ground, the more I worry and tend to them, the more they are beleaguered by insect pests and disease.

This year, for a variety of reasons, I planted and walked away. One could say that I almost neglected the garden for about three weeks; I didn't weed or prune or inspect the plants for bugs. And yet, when we returned from vacation this past weekend, we were surprised to find many vegetable gems hidden under all that wild, green foliage. Pickling cucumbers had grown seemingly overnight, and the long, plump D'Avignon radishes were popping out of the dirt like stout fingers reaching up from the soil. Under an unassuming canopy of leaves, we found the bean plants were heavily laden with both green and yellow pods. We harvested 2 1/2 pounds of beans and still more young ones await to grow on the vine.

Nature will follow it's own course, for good or bad, whether or not I fret and hover. I wish I didn't have to repeatedly learn this lesson in gardening as well as in other areas of my life. I am sure I can't let go of trying to control every tiny detail because I lack a trust that life will take care of itself; I feel a need to force events to be just so. I should follow the lead of my plants and grow with abandon when the season is right, knowing that the sun won't always be shining and that the rain will ebb and flow. Be fruitful when opportunity strikes and don't dwell on what is less than perfection. Everything grows very well in its own way and in its own time, bugs and all. Should it be any other way?

The wall of cucumbers!

An onion plant flowers after being rescued from the compost bin

A tall variety of phlox