To Market

So, things have slowed pretty dramatically in the garden. I can still cull some greens (arugula, mustard, kale, and lettuce), and the occasional turnip or radish, some rosemary and thyme. Many of the leaves though have wilted from the frost. About half of the plot is left fallow, piled with old plants and leaves in the hopes that they might decompose, and give back some of the nutrients that they took to give me food during the summer and fall. I wonder what will happen to it once I leave.

Because my yield is pretty slow at the moment, I have begun to supplement my produce supply more substantially from the farmer's market at Dupont Circle. I have been getting a steady supply of apples from there, real apples. There are so many different kinds available that totally defy the monotony and conformity of grocery store fruit shopping. I keep thinking I will bake something with these new and delicious apples, but end up eating them instead. Two weeks ago I got a couple pounds of York apples. This Sunday it was Nittany. I really want to give Winesap a try sometime soon; what a delicious name.

I got some parsnips, sweet potatoes, and eggs this past week as well. I want to cook up something special with the parsnips.

I have recently started to eat meat again, and the farmer's market has been pivotal to me in making this decision. Ultimately, I really love the cyclic interaction between the life of animals on a farm and the life of plants. In an ideal, self-contained, self-sufficient, sustainable farm system the two give and take in a most elegant symbiotic way. One of the efficiencies built into this involves raising and slaughtering animals for meat, milk, or eggs. I feel like eating meat can be a really positive act when done conscientiously, and as part of this cycle.

My first step in working my way into this system has been buying grass-fed, sustainable raised, small scale meat from the farmers market. I started with buying pork, but have gotten into bison from Cibola Farms in Culpepper, VA. (http://www.cibolafarms.com/) It's so amazing, and has definitely become my favorite meat.

My brother-in-law Jake recently graced me with some deer he shot and butchered himself. I made a pretty damn amazing chili with some of the ground meat, and i still have a pound of stew meat that I'm saving for something special. While I think there is an initial weirdness to eating something like a deer, an animal that seems more decorative to most of us than anything else, I felt really good about that as an eating experience. I mean, it's great to go to the farmers' market and all, but you can't really beat hunting and gathering in terms of connection to food and sustainability (when it's done responsibly that is). This precious gift from the natural world was then passed on to me by a friend and family member. It just makes me appreciate a little bit more the intricate weaving of the earth and the exquisite life it gives.

I have shied away from eating beef for a long time... it's a weird India quirk without much substantive foundation to it. But, I also really want to work with cows. Dairy would be ideal, but if I had the chance to work with beef cattle, I don't know if I would turn it down. But, I suppose that is an issue to be dealt with when and if I actually face it.

The farmer's market has also been a great point of networking for me. Daniel and I are trying to figure out what our post-India life will look like, and we are moving seriously in the direction of farm work. I'm pretty sure I will have an internship at Wollam Gardens, a cut flower farm in Virginia, for the spring. I've started putting out inquiries for the summer on both Maryland and Virginia farms, and have received positive feedback about that. I imagine we might be busy with some farm visits before we decide which one we will ultimately end up at.

I'm so happy to be entering the farm life with such momentum, and a companion I can share it with.

Sugar and Spice

I contend that my mom’s gingersnap recipe makes some of the best cookies in holiday circulation. Of the myriad baked goods and confectioneries that accompany the fall and winter, these spiced cookies are amongst the most classic, simple, and comforting indulgences. My mother’s recipe seems to have the perfect balance of different spices, and always produces a beautiful brown cookie with the traditional cracked top. While the ginger and molasses are the predominant tastes in these cookies, it is complimented by cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg, staples of fall and winter seasonal fare.

Ginger, of course, is a root the flesh of which has a distinctive and pungent kick to it. The cultivation and use of it in food and medicine began in India and southeast Asia. It is widely regarded as an effective digestive aid, as well as useful in the soothing of colds. I find it makes a good warming and healing tea in the colder months because of its sharp flavor.

Cinnamon cultivation began in Sri Lanka and it comes from the bark of an evergreen tree. The bark is peeled from the young shoots of the cinnamon tree, then left to dry and form the quills we know as cinnamon sticks. Nutmeg is ground from the seed of another evergreen tree indigenous to southeast Asia. Cloves are the dried flower buds of a tree from Indonesia.

Spiced cookies and breads became very popular in Europe in the Middle Ages, once the routes of trade with Asia were opened. Gingersnaps themselves are German in their origin, while England and Scandinavia also have long histories of dark and flavorful cookies like these.

This recipe produces a relatively soft cookie, but if you are looking for a harder, snappier texture an extra minute or two in the oven might be able to give you some of that.

Gingersnaps

1 cup sugar
¾ cup butter (a stick and a half)
¼ cup molasses
1 egg
2 ¼ cup flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. ginger
½ tsp. cloves
½ tsp. nutmeg
¼ cup sugar

In a large bowl mix 1 cup sugar, butter, molasses and egg. Beat until light and fluffy. Add the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, ginger, cloves and nutmeg. Mix everything together. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator for about an hour. It will make the dough much easier to handle.

After refrigerating the dough, heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Take the dough and shape into 1-inch balls, rolling each in the extra ¼ cup sugar. Place the balls 2 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheets.

Bake at 350 degrees for 8 to 12 minutes until set. They should expand, puff up, then flatten and begin to crack. Once set, take the cookies out allowing them to cool for 1 minute on the baking sheet. Remove from the cookie sheets to finish cooling.

This recipe should yield about 5 dozen cookies, and take about 2 hours, including the refrigeration and the baking time.

Cold Crop

I'm sitting right now at a little cafe in Petworth, drinking a cup of Polish coffee, and warming my hands from the past hour of weeding and thinning turnips. It's currently 35 degrees in Washington. Looking at the forecast for the next week, it's doubtful that temperatures will climb above 45 degrees. We are past the 60 degree, bucolic, golden leaved days of fall, and it feels we are rapidly approaching winter. I have already seen snow in the city twice. Just a few flakes really, and nothing that would stick, but it was snow. All around me I hear people predicting a long cold winter, and the conditions now seem to indicate as much. It is deeply cold, and not even December. I certainly don't want to argue with Nature and its cycles of temperature, but the current weather conditions are causing a shift in the patterns of my life.

It is dark now when I leave work which is frankly a little dejecting sometimes. The most significant outcome of this daylight rearrangement is that I find myself having very few opportunities to go out to the garden. At the same time, I think it's pretty amazing how the earth does go through cycles. If the darkness starts to get me down, just thinking about reasons for it and the tilt of the earth remind me that that it is good and right for the natural word to cycle thusly. It is the necessary counterpart to the long hot days of summer. With the weather as it is I can be a hermit, huddled inside with a cup of coffee, reading or writing, and not feel guilty about it. It is a time that I can seek a different sort of cultivation, both in my own life and in the life of my garden.

After all, the weeds are not deterred by the cold weather. I should not be either

I have been harvesting a hearty crop of lettuces for the past month and a half, and it seems as if I still have a fair bit of that to look forward too. The Oakleaf lettuce and Arugula in particular seem to withstand the cold heartily. I had my first harvest of the purple sheened kale this last week, and cooked most of it up with potatoes and olive oil in a creamy soup.  I will be sharing some of these greens with my family at Thanksgiving in a few days.  We'll see what happens with my cabbages... it may be to cold for them to fully mature.

My greatest joys come from the root vegetables: the large

 round white turnips, the radishes that come in rose or black. As much as I love cultivating these though, I'm still not an expert at using them in the kitchen. I'll eat them raw, or roasted with onions and garlic. The radish tops are usable in soups. But I definitely want to expand my root recipe lexicon.

With Daniel's help I was able to clear out the last remnants of summer's crop. The beans, eggplant, and peppers have all been uprooted, and laid back down in the plot where they will decompose back into the land. After a long summer of making homes in the dirt, these plants were pretty persistent and it took some good tugging to get some of them up out of the ground. 

It is good to have a reason to go outside, a motivation to deal with the cold.  The grey and barren city can deter from this.  I have hope that I will be able to reap some harvest until January when I leave the city.  

The Great Pumpkin

Just before Halloween, my partner and I found ourselves making our way down Sugarloaf Mountain in Dickerson, MD after a day long venture through the woods and the rocks, to the summit of this low but lovely peak. The mountain itself is small, at only about 800 feet higher than the surrounding farmland, but this allowed for some spectacular views of the Potomac. It was a crisp fall day, brightened by the seasonal foliage, and only 40 or 45 minutes out of the city. While the mountain itself was our destination, one of the highlights of the day for me was the drive through the bucolic farmland of northern Montgomery County, some of the highlights of which include a vineyard and the largest and most diverse squash stand I have ever seen. We passed the stand a few minutes before reaching the mountain itself, and I declared definitively that we would be stopping there on the way back. I had a mission in mind that I had to fulfill.

That mission was a pumpkin. Not just any pumpkin, but a sugar pumpkin that I could use for baking. Most pumpkins you encounter are no good for cooking with; they are bred to be carved and decorated, sacrificing size and shape for bland flavor and unappealing texture. Sugar Pumpkins, however, are small, round, and sweet. There are a number of different kinds of baking pumpkins, though the sugar is the most common. Cinderella is a French Heirloom variety also known as Rouge vif d'Etampes, that look just as you would imagine the carriage from the Fairy Tale conjured up by a fairy godmother. Or there is the Jarrahdale Pumpkin, with blue-grey skin, and bright orange flesh, with a wonderful culinary reputation. The stand had pumpkins and other squash of all shapes, sizes, and colors, many of which I don't think I have ever seen before. Also, hot apple cider for you to drink while you browse. I stuck to the basics though, and get my archetypal little sugar pumpkin.

Before using any kind of squash, I prefer baking it for a while, though you can boil or even microwave them to get them soft and workable. To bake, cut the pumpkin in half, getting rid of the stem, then scoop out the pulp and seeds. Save the seeds for roasting later. You need a good large knife you can get some leverage out of. Once cut, place the two halves face down in a shallow baking dish, and cover with aluminum foil. Bake at 375 for an hour and a half. You'll need to let it cool for a bit after this (I usually get lazy and stick it in the freezer for 15 minutes). You can then very easily scoop the flesh out from the skin and puree or mash it.

After letting the pumpkin decorate the coffee table for a few days, I decided it was time to utilize my find. I thought about bread or pie, but came down to pumpkin soup because it is one of my favorite things ever. I have also come to feel like using curry is also one of my favorite things to use in the fall or winter, and makes a deep rich addition to the seasonal cuisine. It meshes perfectly with all kinds of squash. So, I combined the two in the following recipe:

Curried Pumpkin Soup

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 medium onion, diced

1 hot red pepper, coarsely chopped

3 large carrots, sliced about 1/4 inch thick

2T. olive oil

Flesh from 1 pumpkin

3 cups of chicken or vegetable stock

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 bay leaf

2 tsp. curry powder

1 tsp. turmeric

A pinch of cayenne pepper

1 1/2 tsp. salt

Raw pumpkin seeds

1 cup cream

Flat leaf parsley, a few sprigs, coarsely chopped

Heat 1 T. olive oil in a stock pot over medium heat; add garlic and onion. Sauté until onion is translucent, 6 or 7 minutes. Add the red pepper and carrots, cooking for another 5 minutes. Next comes the pumpkin, chicken stock, bay leaf, 1/2 cup brown sugar, curry, turmeric, cayenne, 1 tsp. of the salt, and pepper to taste. Bring it all to a boil, then reduce heat and cook until everything is tender and infused with flavor, about 20 minutes.

In the meantime, toast your pumpkin seeds in a small saute pan with 1 T. olive oil and a touch of salt. Keep it on medium heat, and stir frequently, until they are slightly browned.

Returning to the soup, take it off the stove to allow it to cool. Again, I will often stick it in the freezer to expedite. Once cooled, puree in a food processor. Pour back into the stock pot and adjust the seasonings to taste. Stir in the cream just before serving. Add the roasted pumpkin seeds and parsley as a garnish on top.

We ate this with corn bread, though I think using Roti or Naan would be an excellent pairing.

Old Grand-Dad

One of the best decisions I've made all week was making a pot of chili the other night. It's the perfect sort of comfort food for the weather that has descended upon us in the past few days; outside it's crisp and cold and clear, and pretty thoroughly October.

I think I have discovered a new fondness for making things with beans, and its because I've finally made a transition from using them canned to going through the steps of soaking and cooking them. This process takes about 8 million hours, which flies in the face of the prevailing convenience food culture. While it's tempting to try and speed up the soaking or the cooking, I think there is some sort of value to engaging in the long slow process. It's similar to the sort of feeling when you're waiting for bread to rise. It's nice to find these certain realms where you can just set something off to do its slow and sure magic, and by taking part in this it reminds you that you don't need to be in such a hurry about everything either. Also, it's not like soaking beans is hard or anything. You just soak them. AND, they are a lot cheaper than buying the beans in cans. For a dollar fifty I can get a bag that is I dunno, maybe three or four cans worth. I'll start soaking on a Monday morning, cook them in the evening, and then have a ready supply for the whole rest of the week.

That is exactly what I did this past Monday, and so on Tuesday, after a cold and windy bike ride home from work, I decided it was time for some chili. The main inspiration in my chili making was this bottle of Old Grand-Dad whiskey that had about 1/2 a cup left in it. This is my second recipe this month to whiskey. I think that it is a crucial additive to fall and winter cooking, and there are probably only a few things that wouldn't benefit from it. One of my housemates just shared a weekend camping anecdote about cooking apples and peaches over a fire in aluminum foil and their own inspired moment of adding whiskey to the fired fruit mix. There is no way that doesn't sound delicious.

In the chili wanted something that would be deep, dark, and sweet, so in addition to the whiskey some of the other important tones came from brown sugar, blackstrap molasses, tons of cumin, cinnamon, oregano, and rosemary. It was also a really great way to use some stray peppers and eggplant I had lying around from the garden, as well a pile of tomatoes given to us recently from some other gardens. My own tomato supply is now a thing of the past, and has been replaced by rows of radishes.

Old Grand-Dad's Chili
Red and black beans cooked (I made about 3 dried cups worth)
Corn or vegetable oil
2 Onions, diced
1 tsp. salt
Green peppers (I used 2 bell and 3 or 4 banana peppers), chopped
1 small eggplant, chopped
4 carrots, chopped
1 Serrano chili, minced
3 garlic cloves
2 rosemary sprigs
3 oregano sprigs
3 T. cumin
2 tsp. chili powder
1tsp. cinnamon
3lbs tomatoes, chopped
(You can always use a canned tomatoes if you don't have fresh. In fact, if they are out of season definitely used canned tomatoes. When the product is canned, it is canned in a ripened state, whereas the fresh ones you buy in stores are only fake ripe and kind of gross.)
1 can tomato soup
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 T. Blackstrap Molasses
1/2 cup whiskey
Salt and pepper to taste

Cook the beans in a big pot. Set aside.

In a large skillet, get the vegetable oil going and saute the onions with the salt until they are nice and translucent. Add the rest of the vegetable, first the peppers, then the carrots, then the eggplant, and finally the garlic along with the herbs. You can add some of the cumin and chili powder at this point, but I usually reserve the bulk of this until the mixture is in soup form. Cook for another 5 minutes. When everything starts to look a little brown dump in your chopped tomatoes, and then the tomato soup. At this point you should add the rest of your cumin, chili powder, and the cinnamon.

This should simmer in the skillet for 15 to 20 minutes. While it's sitting there, you can mix in the brown sugar and the molasses. The molasses really helps give it a deep rich tone. Also, the whiskey can go in at this point. Once things are really smelling good, add the skillet contents to the big soup pot full of beans. Everything should simmer together for another 20 minutes. Feel free to adjust the sweetness, spiciness, and saltiness of it all as you see fit.

I paired it with toasted bread and some garden lettuces. This makes a lot of chili so there will be leftovers for the coming week.

A Letter to the next president

By Michael Pollan. So good.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/12/magazine/12policy-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=4&ref=magazine

October's Beginning

I think that October is marking a very positive time for me. The growth in the garden is mirrored by my increasing excitement over things to come in my own life. First of all, it's fall which means really exciting things in the realm of root vegetables, my favorite things ever. The carrots, turnips and exotic radishes are doing so well, and I got a new area all ready yesterday to plant some more. I will have to pull out the tomato plants soon, and while this seems to mark an end to some sort of era, I am happy for the space to plant new and different things.

Also, it means sweaters, and soups, and trees changing color, blankets, bundling, and reading. Also writing more. It means I finally feel like doing things, and really loving a lot of the things I'm doing. Oh, and sweet potatoes. Maybe an outing into the mountains, and a cabin weekend. Music. Also apples! The real stuff, not that stuff found in grocery stores. I am hoping to delve into the unexplored realms of pastry, and hone my bread baking. In one of my more momentous moments, I just bought two tickets to India for next February, which marks the start of a new sort of life that I will be so happy to live with my companion.

One of my first culinary homages to the fall came last week, inspired by a visit to the Williamsburg, VA farmer's market. I was down there to visit one of my best friends who decided to move a little further south. The market was so great. It had everything I could have wanted but without all the alienating bustle of the Washington DC markets. I came away with so many treasures: goats' milk soap, delicious cheeses, spelt bread, orchard apples, and 3 pounds of sweet potatoes. My first sweet potatoes of the year! I bought the apples and potatoes together, and new instantly how I wanted to handle them:

Whiskeyed Appled Sweet Potatoes

3lbs Sweet potatoes

2lbs Apples

2/3 cup brown sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

1 pinch nutmeg

1 Cup cheap whiskey

1/2 Cup butter (1 stick)

Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Start out by piercing the skins of the sweet potatoes, and then microwaving until they are softened slightly. I had two large ones, and it took about 6 minutes each. Slice them into a good eating size. Then, core and chop the apples, placing all this into a 9 X 13 baking dish. Sprinkle the brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg on top, mixing it in a bit among the slices. Pour the cup of whiskey over the ensemble. Dot with slices of butter. Top with salt and pepper to taste.

Cover the mixture with tin foil, and place in the oven for about 20 minutes. Take the foil off, and bake for 15-20 minutes more, until everything is soft and done looking.

Bear in mind that the quantities here are very general, and can be changed according to taste. The most important aspect is having good base ingredients. I find there is a huge difference between store sweet potatoes, which are pretty bland, and locally grown ones raised on a smaller scale. In fact, I hated sweet potatoes until I started digging them up for myself on a farm. I wish I had gotten my act together and started planting my own sweet potato slips this year. The farmer's market product made a fine replacement though, and made a really simple dish that evokes so much of the goodness of fall.

September's End

My little turnip sprouts have turned into big leafy plants. I rode my bike to the garden straight after work today to give some much needed care to my garden by the metro. While I continue to visit the garden frequently I have been finding it harder to spend good solid chunks of time there. This might get even more difficult as the light leaves the day sooner. At the same time, I love the fall and I love being outside in it so much, so I'm sure I will continue to spend a significant amount of time in the garden. Today I thinned the different seeds I planted early in September: turnips, radishes (red and black), mesclun, oakleaf lettuce, arugula, and mustard greens. I made a lot of progress in this, though I will probably need to go back and do a final thinning in another few days. I came away with significant amount of the leafy greens, just from the thinnings. I think I will never buy lettuce from a store again.

Also, I accomplished some weeding, and more harvesting. I have another crop of bush beans going strong that I was finally able to harvest. A lot of eggplant, some of which I roasted for dinner tonight. A lot of peppers that I will begin drying. More basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano. I also picked a handful of tomatoes, though the plants are in the final throws of fruiting.

I just planted some kale and some more lettuce the other day, which is already starting to sprout. In a rather sad moment, I decided to finally pull out some of my squash plants. It was a very final sort of action, but I am excited about putting new things in their place, and

the gradually changing landscape of the garden. I started to prepare the former squash bed for another planting, getting some hummus and manure into the ground. I am going to start a second crop of mustard greens, turnips, and radishes in their place. Maybe some more carrots.

There was a row of radishes I planted a few weeks ago, that was refusing to grow. I found this strange and frustrating, because all the other rows have come up so well. I though that maybe I had simply forgotten to plant anything in there at all. Well, today I discovered that I had planted something, not radishes, but carrots. That made for a nice little surprise. I do hate waiting for carrots to germinate though... they seem to take forever, especially next to the turnips and radishes which provide such instant sprout gratification.

In the plans for the near future is a really good go at my herbs. I need to pick some serious quantities to dry and have ready for the winter months.

Basil to Pesto

One of my consistent summer activities has been using the handfuls of basil I take home with me from the garden, and food processing up mass quantities of pesto.  I can look forward to the fall and winter months, knowing that I have a stash of frozen pesto blocks taking up the shelves of my freezer. 

To make the best Pesto, I have heard that one should really use a pestle and mortar to grind the mixture up.  I, unfortunately, do not own either of these things.  I do, however, have a small food processor type machine that works just fine.  While traditional Pesto is composed of basil, pine nuts, Parmesan, and oil there are numerous variants for experimentation.  Any green, hard cheese, or type of nut is pretty much fair game.   I'm currently growing Arugula, and plan on trying that maybe with some Asiago cheese added to the mix.  

Making pesto is one of the easiest and most worthwhile things you can do in a kitchen with a delicious pay off that can easily be stored for a long period of time. There are only a few ingredients, and the process is terribly easy.  The quantities I give in the recipe below are pretty approximate.  I think I measured everything out the first time I made it, but the mixture has never been the same since, and the results are always just as good. 

Pesto:

2 cups fresh basil, packed

1/3 cup pine nuts

1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

3 medium garlic cloves, minced

Salt and black pepper to taste

Combine the basil and pine nuts in the food processor, mincing it up.  Add the garlic and mix a bit more.  Add the olive oil, a bit at a time, and mix again.  Add the cheese. Mix.  Salt and pepper. Mix.  You probably want to have a spatula near by to scrape the edges during this whole process.  This should make about one cup.

If you want to store it for more than a few days, do so in the freezer in an airtight container.

Harvest

So, today is the first day of fall and I just want to express the fact that I am really, really excited about this.

While I've spent a lot of time thinking about my new plantings, and how good the sprouts are looking, fall is really the time of harvest, when you feel like your summer long labors are exuberantly expressing themselves in the fruits and vegetables that make a steady stream into the kitchen.

In early September I had the pleasure of attending a Heritage Harvest Festival, sponsored by Southern Exposure Seed Exchange, just outside of Charlottesville, VA. It was a Saturday full of heirloom plants, workshops, seed swaps, music, tastings, and camaraderie. All this despite the torrential hurricane rains of the morning. While I learned a lot at the workshops and tasted more varieties of tomatoes than most people think even exist, one of the most satisfying aspects of the festival was the purchase of 3lbs of plums, and 3lbs of some of the first really good apples of the season. These came care of a family run orchard called Vintage Virginia Apples run out of North Garden, VA nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains. They are really friendly people who love to talk about good fruit. They are just beginning a really exciting venture into cider making, and offering some workshops on that soon. (http://www.vintagevirginiaapples.com/)

I felt like I wanted to do something special with the plums. I spent time conjuring different ideas as they sat in my kitchen coming to their fully ripened state, and finally settled on the idea of making a plum crisp. Its a straightforward way of baking fruit without having to delve into the complicated realm of crusts. Going into the project, I wanted to make something that allowed the natural sweetness and goodness of the fruit to carry the dish. Most crisps or cobblers or tart like things are filled with butter and sugar, and while this can be delicious, I felt like I owed it to the goodness of the fruit to try and rely a little less on these additions. The sugar I did use was brown, though I can imagine good results from Turbinado, Sucanat, honey, or any alternative to regular old white. To cut back on butter, I used some yogurt which gave the topping a moisture and a smooth consistency.

Plum Crisp:

2lbs plums (or a mixture of stone fruits; i stuck a peach in there as well)

1/4 Cup brown sugar

1 T. Cornstarch

3/4 Cups rolled oats

3/4 Cups flour

1/2 Cup brown sugar

1 tsp. Cinnamon

A pinch of salt

1/3 Cup butter, melted

1/3 Cup yogurt

The oven should be 400 degrees.

Cut the fruit into small pieces, getting rid of the pits, and place into a bowl. In another bowl, mix together the brown sugar and cornstarch. Sprinkle over the fruit, then dump the whole mixture into a baking dish. I used a regular pie plate, though a tart pan or a 9-inch square baking dish would work well.

For the topping, mix together oats, flour, sugar, and cinnamon. Next comes the butter and the yogurt. Stir until well mixed, then just apply over the fruit mixture by hand.

Put it in the oven and bake 20-25 minutes. I suggest a few more sprinkles of brown sugar on the top while its cooling. Also, serve it warm with some vanilla ice cream.

Aubergine

While its sitting in some olive oil and roasting in the oven, I thought I would take a moment to pay a little homage to eggplant. I learned through some wikipedia research that the plant is native to India where it is called "brinjal" and the European name "aubergine" is derived from this Sanskrit origin. From India is was propagated throughout south and east Asia, and then the Middle East, making a major impact in the cuisines of all these regions. In the West, it started being called "eggplant" the 18th century when someone came up with some white cultivars that look, quite literally, like large eggs hanging off a plant. I still remember my epiphany, working on an organic farm in southern Maryland, looking out on rows of white eggplant, when suddenly it all made sense.

There is a very limited variety of eggplant available in a conventional grocery setting that belies the tremendous diversity of the vegetable. There is a much broader range of shap

e, size, and color grown on smaller scale farms and gardens in North America, but even more so in the various regions of Asia where it is popular: pink, purple, white yellow, stout, long, thin, fat. I'm growing a basic home depot variety, along with a few Ping Tung plants.

The Ping Tung has been so good to me. I spent so much of the summer anticipating the first fruits of the plants. It took a while for them to fully mature, but when the little baby eggplant pods started to appear, I can't tell you how excited I was. The shape and color are so good! Ping Tung eggplant are long and slender, with a different sort of purple shade to them, and this white accenting at the top. I have seen pictures where it appears almost pink. They can grow to be quite long, I read up to 18 inches, but I haven't left any of mine on the plant past 10 or 11. Ping Tung, named after the village in Taiwan where they are from, also particularly high yielding, and disease resistant so they make a solid addition in practical terms, aside from their novel appearance.

(BTW: The seed, and pretty much all the seed I use, comes from http://www.southernexposure.com/, from the good people at Southern Exposure Seed Exchange/Acorn)

Saucey Tomatoes

So tonight I found myself in the position of really wanting to make something, but having next to nothing in the refrigerator or the pantry. I've been aching for a while now to make another batch of tomato sauce, and the only thing I have plenty of are tomatoes. It's getting down to the tail end of the harvest, though, so I figure I should take the chance to make some sauce now while I can. I just started making my own sauce from fresh tomatoes this summer. I started from a very basic Joy of Cooking recipe, and have adapted the general principles to every new batch based on my mood and supplies. The backbone of the sauce is this: Sauteed onions, carrot, celery, and garlic with a selection of herbs, be it basil, rosemary, thyme, sage. My personal favorites are the rosemary and thyme. Then add 2 or so lbs of tomatoes, and a dash of salt and pepper, all simmered together for 10 or 20 minutes.

Tomato sauce can start out with butter or olive oil. I tend to like butter better, but that's in part because I find onions easier to saute in that than oil. I like to put a lot of herbs in, and I usually let it simmer for closer to a half an hour so that all the flavors from the herbs can be fully released into the sauce. On general principle, I think the more variety of vegetables you can include the better. I also almost always use a little bit of brown sugar at the very end of the process: a lot of times the tomatoes I am using are really ripe, and can be a little acidic which is tempered by the sugar. You can peel your tomatoes, but I prefer the texture of the skins, and also it's a lot less work in the kitchen. To get the seeds out I've developed a method of simply cutting my tomato in half and then squeezing the seeds out. This can be a little messy, but if you're willing to take a minute to clean up after, the process is actually quite satisfying. Other fun additions: wine, whiskey, hot peppers, olives, cream (added after the sauce is cooked, and just before serving), and any variety of adventurous herbs, maybe curry or old bay.  What I made tonight was very simple, and thrown together with the few remnants of food left in the house. Just a note, I didn't have any onions, so didn't use them and the sauce was fine. If you have them, though, use them.

Spontaneous Tomato Sauce
3T. Butter
1 stalk celery, thinly sliced
3 large cloves of garlic, minced
4 big mushrooms, coarsely chopped
A few large pinches of fresh rosemaryPinch of dried sage
A few sprinkles of salt
2 lbs. fresh tomatoes, coarsely chopped with some of the seeds and liquid squished out
1 cup of red wine
2 T. light brown sugar

In a large saute pan, start melting the butter. Add the sliced celery, cooking for a minute. Then add the garlic, cook for 30 seconds to 1 minute. Then, pile in the mushrooms, along with salt, and herbs. Let cook for a few minutes (maybe 5) until everything turns brown and fragrant. Then add your tomatoes. I let them sit and simmer for 10 minutes, then added the red wine. I let the mixture sit again for another 10 minutes, covered, to get it well stewed; then a final 10 minutes uncovered to let some of the liquid escape. In these last 10 minutes, add the brown sugar.

To get the sauce really smooth, I run it through a food processor or use a hand mixer. First, though, I dump the sauce in a bowl and have it sit in the freezer for a bit until it comes down to a workable temperature and the splatters won't burn me (learned that lesson the hard way). You can serve it immediately, but I've been making the sauce and freezing it. You can keep it in the refrigerator for up to 4 days, or frozen up to three months.

My little turnip sprout

I went back into the garden today after a few days absence to be welcomed by the sight of tiny little sprouts, growing neatly and greenly in rows through the garden. They are the product of my earlier recorded labors, the first seeds of my fall crop. The turnips and lettuces are coming up nicely, while the purple bush beans are already 2 or 3 inches tall. Still waiting on the spinach. We finally had some good rain this past week, about two solid days of it, for which the whole garden is grateful. My feeble hose is no match for downpours of the sky.

Whenever I am away from the garden for a few days, even just two or three, I always feel like I'm coming to a different place because of the way things change there so rapidly. Colors change, fruits grow, seeds sprout, but only when your not looking.

Did a little bit of planting today as well. I started with small row of Early Jersey Wakefield Cabbage. When mature the heads of these have a special pointed and conical shape to them. Not sure how well these will grow, but they grow relatively quickly for cabbages. I also spread meagre remains of my Chantenay Red Core Carrot Seeds. The carrots are a small, sweet, and crisp variety; everything a carrot should be. Nathan made significant gains in the battle against the weeds, and made part of a bed ready for the next planting. I'm not sure what to put in next. maybe more turnips or some arugula...

Buzz Kill

So the National Resource Defense Council (NRDC) filed a lawsuit against the EPA last week to gain access to research and information on the effects of pesticides on honey bees. Apparently the EPA has been a total jerk as far as trying to get to the bottom of this. In some recent congressional hearing, the EPA shrugged its shoulders to inquiries about where all the money ($20 million) congress allocated for research has gone. Similarly, the Department of Agriculture isn't getting anywhere with it's millions of dollars on this issue. I guess not entirely surprising given the morass of bureaucracy involved, but that certainly doesn't excuse it.

So the reason NRDC is making a big deal about this is because of a pesticide called clothianidin. I know that this has been banned in most of Europe because of worries about Bees, but the EPA approved it for use in the United States in 2003. The approval was accompanied by a whole host of research from the developer Bayer CropScience, a significant portion of which dealt with the potential impact on bees. The thing is, the EPA and Bayer aren't letting anyone know what the research says. So it's these documents that are the primary concern of NRDC's lawsuit. More on this at Common Dreams:http://www.commondreams.org/cgi-bin/newsprint.cgi?file=/news2008/0818-12.htm and then there is this article from NRDC itself: http://www.nrdc.org/wildlife/animals/bees.asp.

Everything will be better in the fall

So, it's around 70 degrees in Washington which is frankly, ridiculous. Though it's approaching September this time of year is usually still well steeped in heat and humidity. I couldn't be happier though that the weather is taking this kind of a turn. It is still unclear whether or not this is a trend, or a fleeting fad for the week but I'm going to enjoy it for now.

With the weather such as it is I can't help but look forward to fall, and I've started getting some work done in the garden that reflects this. Last week, my seed order from Southern Exposure seed exchange came in. I've cleared some space from vegetables past and started prepping the beds for new plants. I bought ten bags of manure and peat moss from the hardware store, and have dug it in where I can; also a bag of blood meal that is frankly, kinda gross but which should supply all the nitrogen I generally lack. I have already sown a few beds, first with another crop of bush beans to get me through September. These are a new variety for me called Royalty Purple. From the pictures I've seen they look almost like wilted baby eggplants. I'm still excited about them though and they will make a fun change from the green I've been picking all summer. With much anticipation I started planting my turnips. I finished off the pack of purple top seeds in one section. On standby I have some White Egg Turnip seed that I would like to plant before mid-September. I think they will be just lovely. In the next week I will spread some mustard greens between the turnip rows since the two seem to get on quite well together.

Next I got started on some long rows of greens: a mesclun mix, and a variety of lettuce called Oakleaf. In the row next to them I planted spinach which stubbornly refused to germinate last time I tried it. I'm crossing my fingers for this crop. On the list of greens to be are: more mustard greens, arugula, kale, and I will give a stab at some cabbage.

Cupcake Feminism

Alright, more fun ways to use your squash are here! The recipe below comes from Rebar: Modern Food Cookbook by Audrey Alsterburg and Wanda Urbanowicz. It was inspired by this article from the Guardian, posing the question, "Do good feminists bake cupcakes?" My emphatic response is yes. http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2008/aug/22/women

The article presents a division within contemporary feminism brought to light by the recent popularity of domestic activities amongst young women: there are those who see this as a regression, and there are those who argue it is simply one of the choices we as women are freely allowed to make without all the regressive implications. I fall extremely on the later side. In fact, I think that the most oppressive, un-liberated aspects of my life is my "career" BUT I am able to find freedom and creativity in what is traditionally seen as the "domestic realm," specifically my garden and my kitchen. Though the stain of patriarchy still bleeds throughout our culture, I think that it is important for our society to realize the true value of this sphere, and the amazing lessons that can be gained from them. If anything, I think it should be valued MORE than the empty systems which organize most of our "jobs." My real work as a post-modern human being is finding whatever connection I can to other people and the natural world and I feel like the "domestic" offers me a place to start doing that. Because of the tireless work and sacrifices of the decades of women before me, I think that we can begin to move beyond notions of the domestic that are bound to the notions of male hegemony. We need to try to move beyond the oppressive mistakes of the past, take the patriarchy out of domesticity, and appreciate the creative and life giving aspects of this traditionally feminine sphere such that it becomes a positive and life giving place for women to be. Digging in the dirt and imagining new meals are the most important things I do on a daily basis.

What would be really great is if we could get men to take on some of these responsibilities too, so maybe they can discover some of the real joys of cupcakes, which come in the making and sharing.

And so, without further delay:

Chocolate Zucchini Cupcake Recipe
1 1/2 cups (360 mL) brown sugar
1/4 cup (60 mL) melted butter
3/4 cup (180 mL) vegetable oil
3 eggs
1 tsp (5 mL) vanilla
1/2 cup (120 mL) buttermilk
2 cups (480 mL) grated zucchini
1 cup (240 mL) chocolate chips
2 cups (480 mL) unbleached flour
1 cup (240 mL) cocoa, sifted
1/2 tsp (2.5 mL) salt
2 tsp (10 mL) baking soda
1 tsp (5 mL) allspice
1 1/2 tsp (7.5 mL) cinnamon
(I added a touch of cayenne pepper, because I like spicy chocolate; it was a successful move)
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease large muffin pans and line with muffin cups.
In a medium bowl mix together the sugar, butter and oil. Beat in eggs, one at a time until well Incorporated. Stir in vanilla, buttermilk, zucchini and chocolate chips.
In a separate bowl mix together all of the dry ingredients. Add the liquid ingredients and mix until well combined. Spoon batter into large muffin pans. Bake in the center of the oven for about 35 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.
You could top with some an icing if you're into that sort of thing.
Yields 9 large cupcakes or 20 standard cupcakes.

The prolific summer squash

July and August means squash. And then more squash. It's a great plant to grow, but once it starts, you are flooded by the yield. If you haven't experienced this for yourself, then I'm positive you have experienced someone trying to offload some of their squash onto you.

There are all sorts of recipes that can put this vegetable to good use, from salads, to pastas, soups, pancakes, and my own personal favorite bread. It's a pretty efficient way to use up 2 or 3 medium sized squash or zucchini, and it's delicious! I've always loved the way that the different cinnamony or nutmegy sorts of spices work so well with this summer harvest. Recently, though, I started making zucchini bread a little differently, and it's been amazing. The secret here is changing up the spice palette a little bit and adding in your favorite Indian curry blend.

I made it this past weekend for some extended family who generally have very traditional tastes, and were honestly a little dubious when I told them about this whole curry business. They all loved it though when they gave it a try, which I consider solid evidence of its general deliciousness.

The addition of poppy seeds gives it a different sort of texture, while the coconut can give a little more sweetness if that's what you're into. Instead of green zucchini, I used yellow summer squash which worked beautifully.

Here's the recipe I came across:

1 1/2 cups chopped walnuts, plus a few to sprinkle on top

1/3 cup poppy seeds (optional)

1/3 cup sweet coconut

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1 cup sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar, lightly packed

3 large eggs

1 T. vanilla extract
3 cups grated zucchini (about 3 medium)

3 cups flour (whole wheat pastry or all-purpose flour)

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon curry powder (optional)

I used two 5 x 9pound loaf pans

Preheat your oven to 350°F. Butter the two loaf pans, dust them with a bit of flour and set aside. Or, you can line the pans with a sheet of parchment.

In a small bowl combine the walnuts, poppy seeds, coconut, and any other little addition you might want to add (lemon or orange zest comes to mind). Set aside.

In a mixer, beat the butter until fluffy. Add the sugars and beat again until mixture comes together and is no longer crumbly. Add the eggs one at a time mixing well and scraping down the sides of the bowl between each addition. Stir in the vanilla and then the zucchini (low speed if you are using a mixer).

In a separate bowl, combine the whole wheat pastry flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and curry powder. Add these dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in two batches, stirring between each addition.

By hand, fold in the walnut, poppy seed, coconut mixture. Save a bit of this to sprinkle on the tops of the zucchini loaves before baking for a bit of texture. Avoid over mixing the batter.

Divide the batter equally between the two loaf pans. Make sure it is level in the pans, by running a spatula over the top of each loaf. Bake for about 40-45 minutes on a middle oven rack. Timing here is to taste as well. I tend to take it out moments before it's really baked to help retain good moisture. Remove from the oven and cool the zucchini bread in pan for about ten minutes (It will continue to cook a bit during this cooling process). Turn out onto wire racks to finish cooling - if you leave them in their pans, they will get sweaty and moist (not in a good way) as they cool.

Makes 2 loaves for you to enjoy!

Birds and Bees

http://www.nrdc.org/onearth/06sum/bees1.asp
A coworker sent me an article this morning on the current honey bee crisis. It's a good and thorough article, and seems to favor the idea that pesticides are largely to blame for the colony collapse disorder that poses such a drastic threat to commercial farming. While the cause still remains unclear, I personally lean towards blaming the pesticides. It only makes sense to me that doing something so unnatural would generate problems of this order.

The colony collapse disorder is unique to the honey bees brought over from Europe about four centuries ago. Apparently native honey makers weren't productive enough for European tastes. As a result, hey have become almost solely responsible for pollination on a large scale. Farmers usually rent hives to come out and pollinate their crops for them.

At times I am worried over the state of agriculture as the honey bee population plummets. It is important to keep in mind, though, that 500 years ago, before the Americas were colonized, things got pollinated and agricultural life flourished. There is a whole host of native pollinators out there who can help to keep, at the very least, our gardens and small farms going.

One of my personal favorites is the Blue Orchard Bee which, as you might imagine, is blue and tends to orchard crops. They are one of the varieties widely speculated upon as a replacement for the honey bee since they are very good at their job and very easy to propagate. Oh, and they don't really sting either. They sting only under the most extreme provocation, like if you are trying to squish it between your fingers, and even then the sting is comparable to a mosquito bite.

And then of course, there is the bumble bee. There are a number of different bumble bee species, but these too are in peril because of massive habitat decline. Bumble bees are well known for their buzzing sound, which is generally thought to come from wings. Well, it is actually caused by the internal vibration of its flight muscles.

Also responsible for pollination are animals like birds and bats, and a host of other little insects. I really enjoy the idea of trying to cultivate a garden environment that consciously encourages pollinators. In my own garden, I have been cultivating calendula, borage, and bergamot. All three of these things attract a variety of little pollinator types. In addition, they have medicinal qualities and is like to dry the flowers for use in herbal infusions. The borage has been really exciting to grow because of its fuzzy leave and distinctive blue, star shaped flowers. It is used in naturopathy to regulate the metabolism and the hormonal system. It is generally thought to be a good remedy for PMS and menopause symptoms like hot flash. Borage is also good for colds, bronchitis, and respiratory health. It tastes vaguely of cucumber...

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this persistent honey bee problem is that is seems like only one of many reasons that our society's large scale industrial agriculture is simply unsustainable. Even if the colony collapse disorder is not the result of pesticides or habitat loss, the research into the life of these bees that the problem has generated show that both of these things have an effect on their populations and stability. A foreign pollinator that now gets carted around in trucks to pollinate massive crop expanses is innovative, but ultimately unnatural and counter to the way that nature wants to work.

Despite the wide reaching and perilous implications of colony collapse disorder, I know that in my own life there is some good in my new awareness of the ways and means of pollination. Even if the honey bee population recovers, I think it will be beneficial to me to know who is doing this important work in my garden, and to continue to learn how I can help the variety of pollinators thrive.

Garden of a bygone era

I recently recalled a series of photographs of my garden next to the Fort Totten Metro Station in Washington DC taken in early July. Looking at these pictures I was struck by the dramatic "then" and "now" sort of contrast they evoked. At this point in July, everything was lush and green and wet from the relatively frequent afternoon rain showers that visited the city then. It was a period when the garden was healthy and alive, but still on the verge of yielding its ultimate harvest. Everything was well weeded and trimmed. All the plants were making ready for the real depths of the summer time while their energies could be spent on the color of leaves and the thickness of foliage, and the purely aesthetic aspects of their existence in those few moments before the ripening of maturity and old age set in.

Now, I can't keep up with the harvest that it is yielding. There is a bag full of tomatoes or green bush beans every other day. In accordance with some grandmotherly advice I received this weekend, I just blanched and froze a second bagful of bush beans so that they can be preserved for some desperate and unimaginable time when the beans have stopped growing. I've also recently discovered the joys of making tomato sauce. And oh, the squash!!! While I'm struggling to keep up with the vegetables ripening all around me, sometimes I am baffled to think that this is the result of the work I have put into the land. This harvest comes at a price though. July has past, and the rainless heat of August has set in. The vegetables have stopped growing per se, and instead channel all their efforts into their fruits. The leaves suffer somewhat from the lack of water and these reappropriated energies. Things are less lush and green, and generally more brown and crunchy. The weeds take advantage of this, not that I can really blame them. And now there are bugs, lots of little yellow ones who have a particular fondness for collard greens and all the brussels sprouts, or others who like to excavate their way through the base of my squash plants. It is when these plants are at their height, at least in terms of their producing, that they seem most vulnerable. Thankfully, they are also quite generous.