Two balls dangle in our yard. We watch and wait. They are precious fruit. (What homegrown fruit isn’t?) Precious because we nurture them and precious because they are rare. The peach tree literally has one peach on it. It will taste so good! But that seed — that’s the golden ticket! One bud endured the late freeze to become a flower successfully pollinated to become this precious fruit. Friday morning I say to Brian, “Remind me to check that peach. We don’t want something to beat us to it.” Less than an hour later we walk outside and eagerly approach the tree. Panic seeps through my optimistic whisper: “I don’t see it.” Maybe I’m looking in the wrong spot? “It was right here. I just took a picture of it on Monday.” It is gone. There is no sign of it on the ground, like when the birds or squirrels devoured last summer’s bounty.
One ball dangles in our yard. We watch and wait. It is the first time the passion vine has bore fruit. Not just this vine, but all the vines before, grown in all the yards before this one.
To be continued…
Update: The passionfruit disappeared as well.
Every week we get a bag of food from Kam’s Kookery & Guilford Garden. It’s called a CSA, for “community-supported agriculture,” but it’s easier to refer to it as our “veggie bag.” CSA customers commit to the veggies in advance, and given the nature of farming, receive a fluctuating variety and amount of produce every week (or every other week, as the case may be).
I had a couple of things in mind to try with this week’s bounty. My friend Hailey shared her experience of making pastrami-cured beets, which I was excited to make as soon as I learned we’d receive beets. We got turnips too, so to make it worth the effort I combined them. They’re delicious! Here’s the recipe Hailey and I used. I didn’t have any powdered garlic, and they still turned out delicious. At last! I didn’t wait until the turnips were sad and wrinkly before finally putting them to use!
A head of cabbage also came in the bag, so I started a batch of sauerkraut, adding bits of leftover turnips and beets for color and crunch. If you’ve never made sauerkraut before, there’s ample guidance online and in books you can get at the library. I decided to check with one of my favorite bloggers, the Zero Waste Chef, to see how she does it. I took her advice to let the salted veggies sit for an hour or so after I mixed and massaged them with salt. This ensured the cabbage released enough water so that I could easily submerge the veggies in the resulting brine, something that has taken a lot of pounding and squeezing in the past. After I filled the large jar, I decided to add some minced serrano peppers that we had in the freezer, so a small batch will have a bit of heat.
The veggie bag also had onions, zucchini, crookneck squash, sungold tomatoes, new potatoes, cucumbers, and Swiss chard. I love this time of year! This morning I flipped through How to Cook Everything Fast (thanks, Anne!) to see what I could make with some chicken thighs and squash: Provencal chicken for supper!
One of the more memorable books we’ve read with our daughter is Blueberries for Sal, so I’ve had “kerplink! kerplank! kerplunk!” in my head since yesterday afternoon when we decided to head 100 miles east to Uncle Buck’s Berry Farm.
I was a little unsure about dragging my family on weeknight road trip, but all my self-doubt was assuaged once we arrived at the farm. We saw killdeer and wildflowers and holes in the ground that house eggs, as my daughter explained. The birdsong and our giddy outbursts (“This is so fun!” “What a good idea!” “Yummy!” “Is that a bird?!”) were the soundtrack as we picked from plants loaded with blueberries, just as as Uncle Buck had promised. It was somewhat chilly (!!!) and so overcast that we didn’t need to bother with sunscreen or hats, all things that increased the enjoyment of my hot-natured daughter and husband.
Buck’s family has farmed this acreage along Lavender Street for almost 100 years. The land the orchard occupies once was part of a larger soybean and peanut farm, but now the 5.5-acre berry patch is in its fourth year as a pick-your-own operation with 7,000 blueberry and blackberry plants. You can also find Uncle Buck and his berries at the Okmulgee Farmers’ Market.
After we got our fill of blueberries (both in our bellies and bowls), we had a picnic supper nestled between rows of blackberries and wildflowers.
I feel compelled to compile some information related to the recent reversal of a planned ban of a common, yet dangerous, pesticide. I hadn’t actually heard of the generic name of this poison until the new EPA administrator announced he was halting the steps to ban it. [modified 5/19/2017]
“By reversing the previous administration’s steps to ban one of the most widely used pesticides in the world, we are returning to using sound science in decision-making – rather than predetermined results.” EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt
- An article covering the public comment period on the regulatory reform agenda of Trump, Pruitt, et al. In other words, I’m trying to begin with something positive and empowering. Here’s the actual comment form. The deadline is May 15. Look for the “Comment Now” button in the top right-hand corner.
- Forbes has a great overview about the chlorpyrifos reversal
- “Poisons are us” | A compelling opinion piece by Timothy Egan
- Dow Chemical tries to kill risk study of its chlorpyrifos
- Here’s the National Pesticide Information Center general fact sheet on chlorpyrifos. The publication provides a very basic, yet alarming, explanation of why children are more sensitive to the insecticide. Studies have found that children who had chlorpyrifos in their blood had more developmental delays and disorders than those who did not. In addition, it states that chlorpyrifos is toxic to bees and earthworms. “It can poison non-target insects for up to 24 hours after it is sprayed. Chlorpyrifos can be toxic to earthworms for up to 2 weeks after it is applied to the soil.” Doesn’t that seem counterproductive — especially in its agricultural applications?
- A strong case against a pesticide does not faze EPA under Trump
- Letter from over 45 Scientists and Health Professionals Supporting EPA’s 2016 Risk Assessment and 2015 Proposal to Revoke Food Tolerances for Chlorpyrifos [pdf]
Please contact your federal legislators about the chlorpyrifos reversal, as well as the plans for repealing other EPA regulations.
A year ago the city installed a sidewalk on our street (March 28, 2016, to be exact), and we asked them to not spread the dirt and lay sod after the work was done. We wanted to keep the “berm” created by the displaced soil. At first it was a lot of work to remove big rocks and create a somewhat uniform mound, so we wondered if we made the right decision. And it continues to take effort to (attempt to) fend off the bermuda and crab grasses. Would we do it again? Unequivocally, yes. If entertainment value alone were the only metric: yes, yes, yes. The berm has given us so much:
- Food for humans and other animals: culinary and medicinal herbs, eggplant, okra, winter peas, sunflower seeds, nectar, and more to come.
- Community: We are playing or working out there often, so we get to wave to drivers or chat with walkers. The berm is a conversation piece. Some people clearly are baffled and others are inspired. Either way, we eagerly share our experiences, challenges, and future plans. Also, we were flush with cowpeas and now winter peas, so we share with our neighbors.
- Activity: The berm hums with life. The berm provides opportunities for wonderment and movement with purpose — both are a joy to share with our daughter.
- Beauty: Flowers! See photos and plant varieties below. I sought out advice for seeds that might have a fighting chance against the invasive grasses. The best performer was cowpeas: They thrived all summer and fall and they’re pretty, edible nitrogen fixers.
- Buffer: Our house is situated on a curve and the berm gives me a sense of security when we’re playing in the front yard and a car takes the bend too fast. I feel less exposed in general, but even more so when the mammoth sunflowers are up and we have a “living fence.”
Before the berm
The city installed sidewalks
Brian working on the berm
Brian watering the berm
Feel the berm
What we planted in the spring:
“bee feed” mix
Oriental scarlet poppy
red marietta marigold*
purple prairie clover
What we planted in the fall:
Windsor fava beans
To save money, we planted a lot of seeds and just a few transplants (eggplant, sage, rosemary, hibiscus). We’re hoping that many plants will readily re-seed this spring and we’ll plant seeds I saved at the end of the season.
Have you missed me? So much has changed that scrolling through the previous 10 entries conjures memories from a previous life. But that’s not to say things aren’t good. They are. Beautiful, awe-inducing, emotional, complicated, challenging, and precious.
My little Oklavore just turned 1 and it’s been about a year since I posted. Coincidence? I think not.
Continued silence around here is likely, but I am hoping to get back to documenting our adventures with local food and other food-related interests. Our baby brings more joy and meaning to all aspects of our life, including (and especially?) food.
The last couple of summers, I have been lucky enough to be invited out to Rose Ranch to pick wild blackberries. Last summer was no different. Well — it was different, in a big way, because Rose Ranch had just lost Don Rose. As I headed out toward the brambles, there was a muffled quiet like when you navigate a crowded space while wearing ear plugs. It was as though the ranch was observing silence at the loss of its caretaker. I pondered what Vicki might be going through and quietly, meditatively picked the berries from the thorny vines that snagged my shirt and jeans. I felt grateful for the opportunity to be in Don’s domain while mourning his absence. We miss you, Don.
I picked several pounds of blackberries. I ate more than my share of raw berries, froze some for a future crisp, and decided to experiment with blackberry-infused vinegar to make a drinking vinegar, known as a “shrub.” The color and flavor of the berries leached into the white vinegar as it sat in the cupboard for almost one month. To the strained vinegar, I added sugar and simmered it to make a syrup, which is used to flavor carbonated water. Refreshing! Bracing! Add some spirits, if you wish.
Making the shrub syrup