Just got back from the Young Farmers Conference - I had a great time, met a lot of really cool people, and came away with a lot of really positive energy and a bajillion ideas of things to think about.
Another links post!
Read through the Food Declaration and consider signing it. No matter what you think about foodies or sustainable agriculture, farmers markets, what have you, its basic principles ought to be something everybody can get behind. They're aiming for 300,000 signatures, and are only at 9051 right now.
My techie roommate was rhapsodizing a few years ago about how there is a wiki for everything - she had just found a very helpful physics wiki. I wasn't able to find a soil or plant wiki. But! There is a young farmers wiki. It looks pretty cool.
More links! Check out San Francicso's plans for a new food policy. The Moth had a fun podcast recently about quitting everything and buying a farm. The New Yorker recently looked at beer (I heart fermentation); the Greenhorn Project has a great blog and is making a film about young farmers.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
So cold...so very cold...
This looks to be the coldest winter of my life, at least since I can remember. Not because climate change isn't real, but because I'm living farther north and because I'm outside every day.
But it's really not that bad. Yes, I did go and buy all the 100% wool sweaters at Salvo (there were three, plus a sweater dress with shoulder pads that I left on the rack; I am a fiber snob, but I need warmth); yes, I'm wearing two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, three shirts and two sweaters every day; yes, I finally finished knitting a hat that actually fits me (woot!) - but now all of this is routine and I'm usually warm! Good times.
The trouble is keeping my hands warm. They lose heat pretty fast because they're extremeties and I'm outside handling cold/freezing things. Insulated work gloves are awesome, but for harvesting we have wet-suit-type gloves. Hosing them off reliably cleans them - important when handling food - but if they get water in them, it stays until you can leave them out to dry properly.
We also have a wood stove that we use for some of our cooking and heat (the gas stove has more fine-tuned temperature control for baking and frying, but propane is more expensive than wood at this point.) E said to me that firewood warms you four times - when you cut it, when you split it, when you carry and stack it, and when you burn it. I proposed that we could just stay warm all winter by carrying the firewood around and not bothering to burn it, but we'd probably freeze at night.
But it's really not that bad. Yes, I did go and buy all the 100% wool sweaters at Salvo (there were three, plus a sweater dress with shoulder pads that I left on the rack; I am a fiber snob, but I need warmth); yes, I'm wearing two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, three shirts and two sweaters every day; yes, I finally finished knitting a hat that actually fits me (woot!) - but now all of this is routine and I'm usually warm! Good times.
The trouble is keeping my hands warm. They lose heat pretty fast because they're extremeties and I'm outside handling cold/freezing things. Insulated work gloves are awesome, but for harvesting we have wet-suit-type gloves. Hosing them off reliably cleans them - important when handling food - but if they get water in them, it stays until you can leave them out to dry properly.
We also have a wood stove that we use for some of our cooking and heat (the gas stove has more fine-tuned temperature control for baking and frying, but propane is more expensive than wood at this point.) E said to me that firewood warms you four times - when you cut it, when you split it, when you carry and stack it, and when you burn it. I proposed that we could just stay warm all winter by carrying the firewood around and not bothering to burn it, but we'd probably freeze at night.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Farmer botany! Farming around ice!
Did you know? Carrots and Queen Anne's Lace are the same species, Daucus carota. Beets and chard are the same species, Beta vulgaris. And why do farmers talk about brassicas? Well, check it out: cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage, kale, collards, and brussel sprouts are all the same species, Brassica oleracea. Not to mention Brassica rapa, which is both Chinese cabbage and turnips, and Brassica napus, with canola and rutabega.
People keep asking me what happens on a farm in the winter, and one of the things I've learned is that harvest goes quite late in the year, thanks to the frost hardy crops like brassicas - we've still got brussels sprouts! Starting in October, the temperature began to dip below freezing - at first, just for a few minutes before the dawn sun came to haul the temperature back up. But the frosts got longer and colder. Naturally, these low temperatures freeze plant juices, and some plants can't handle it - tomatoes and eggplant are long gone - but others, like the brassicas, have ways of surviving this freezing.
Although brassicas can survive freezing, harvesting them in between regular frosts is tricky. Frozen solid kale leaves can't just be hacked off the plant as per usual. The water inside the plant expands as it freezes, pushing the plant cells to their breaking point - the stress of touching them can push them over the edge and seriously bruise the plant tissues. So after there's been a frost, we have to wait for the plants to thaw out and wake up before they can be harvested. The brassicas will ultimately die from freezing, reducing to a mass of translucent, wilted leaves - but it takes a while.
And another thing - brussels sprouts are so wack! First, take cabbage, where the leaves form a head that we harvest - I get that. Then you have kale - the leaves grow out from an upright stalk and they're chopped off, I get that too. But brussels sprouts! Their leaf buds are tiny cabbages! We harvest the leaf buds! All the tissues of Brassica oleracea, you'll note, are edible (such as broccoli leaves and stems as well as the flower buds; the roots, I hear, are edible but woody). Anyway, the sizeable leaf scars of brussels sprouts after harvest remind me of palm trees. If my camera battery doesn't freeze when I take it outside, I may be able to provide better pictures.
People keep asking me what happens on a farm in the winter, and one of the things I've learned is that harvest goes quite late in the year, thanks to the frost hardy crops like brassicas - we've still got brussels sprouts! Starting in October, the temperature began to dip below freezing - at first, just for a few minutes before the dawn sun came to haul the temperature back up. But the frosts got longer and colder. Naturally, these low temperatures freeze plant juices, and some plants can't handle it - tomatoes and eggplant are long gone - but others, like the brassicas, have ways of surviving this freezing.
Although brassicas can survive freezing, harvesting them in between regular frosts is tricky. Frozen solid kale leaves can't just be hacked off the plant as per usual. The water inside the plant expands as it freezes, pushing the plant cells to their breaking point - the stress of touching them can push them over the edge and seriously bruise the plant tissues. So after there's been a frost, we have to wait for the plants to thaw out and wake up before they can be harvested. The brassicas will ultimately die from freezing, reducing to a mass of translucent, wilted leaves - but it takes a while.
And another thing - brussels sprouts are so wack! First, take cabbage, where the leaves form a head that we harvest - I get that. Then you have kale - the leaves grow out from an upright stalk and they're chopped off, I get that too. But brussels sprouts! Their leaf buds are tiny cabbages! We harvest the leaf buds! All the tissues of Brassica oleracea, you'll note, are edible (such as broccoli leaves and stems as well as the flower buds; the roots, I hear, are edible but woody). Anyway, the sizeable leaf scars of brussels sprouts after harvest remind me of palm trees. If my camera battery doesn't freeze when I take it outside, I may be able to provide better pictures.
Monday, November 24, 2008
How are chickens like small children?
Give a cow a pile of hay for the day, and it is content to sit and munch in the sun and let the time ebb away. However, give a chicken it's daily ration of grain or other feed in a single pile, and it gets distressed. Chickens are descended from jungle fowl, and they're going to scratch and peck at the dirt whether they're looking for food or not. Chickens need not only food, but also entertainment. Like small children.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
I am a Sheep God!
I give them food, I bring them water. I pour out yummy, salty kelp powder for them. If I’m feeling especially benevolent, I bring them apples or cut up squash. And I even do the same for cows.
Farmers ideally want livestock to be a little wary and afraid of humans – a cow that respects humans doesn’t try to jump on them or butt them in play. But livestock do need to be handled periodically and if they’re too shy, catching and handling them becomes much more difficult. Sheep that were bottle fed as lambs, for example, are more comfortable with humans and more likely to follow them around* – but they also won’t lie still when they’ve been caught for shearing or hoof-trimming. So in building a flock of sheep or a herd of cattle, livestock personality is an important factor.**
As the apprentice, I’m really more like a sheep and cattle demi-god. I’m still new at doing all of these things (and I don't have a great deal of responsibility yet) and I’m not involved, as proper gods are, in the life and death decisions of the livestock. My host-farmer-teacher-bosses (hereafter A and E) are the real sheep and cattle gods.
We recently drove half the flock of sheep to the slaughterhouse – mostly this year’s lambs, but a couple ewes and at least one ram. The genetics in a flock are a big deal, and the decision of who will go cannot be undone. So, the trip was preceded by a week of listening to A and E’s (interminable and impenetrable) conversations about the relative merits of every single sheep (sample quote: "What do you think about F's lamb? I think 14 has a better coat. But 15 weighed more. And R had bad feet this year; but don’t forget that 29 spooks easily. So should we keep F's lamb?"). We finally sorted them into two groups: stay and go.
For the life bit of the big decisions, A & E also have some say in how many animals get born – for sheep, they decide when to let the rams into the pasture, and for cattle – well, let’s just say for now that bulls aren’t used very much and more, and AI in farming circles does not stand for Artificial Intelligence.
*One of the friendly sheep is named Elsie, and so every time I visit the sheep the song Cabaret inevitably starts rolling in my head...inappropriate to the situation on several levels.
**And, for future reference, if a cow is getting too close and trying to get all up in your space, you can smack its ear (not box - firmly bat). Since cattle-speak doesn’t include ear contact, this reinforces the notion that humans are special – we speak a secret, unfathomable language, if you will.
Farmers ideally want livestock to be a little wary and afraid of humans – a cow that respects humans doesn’t try to jump on them or butt them in play. But livestock do need to be handled periodically and if they’re too shy, catching and handling them becomes much more difficult. Sheep that were bottle fed as lambs, for example, are more comfortable with humans and more likely to follow them around* – but they also won’t lie still when they’ve been caught for shearing or hoof-trimming. So in building a flock of sheep or a herd of cattle, livestock personality is an important factor.**
As the apprentice, I’m really more like a sheep and cattle demi-god. I’m still new at doing all of these things (and I don't have a great deal of responsibility yet) and I’m not involved, as proper gods are, in the life and death decisions of the livestock. My host-farmer-teacher-bosses (hereafter A and E) are the real sheep and cattle gods.
We recently drove half the flock of sheep to the slaughterhouse – mostly this year’s lambs, but a couple ewes and at least one ram. The genetics in a flock are a big deal, and the decision of who will go cannot be undone. So, the trip was preceded by a week of listening to A and E’s (interminable and impenetrable) conversations about the relative merits of every single sheep (sample quote: "What do you think about F's lamb? I think 14 has a better coat. But 15 weighed more. And R had bad feet this year; but don’t forget that 29 spooks easily. So should we keep F's lamb?"). We finally sorted them into two groups: stay and go.
For the life bit of the big decisions, A & E also have some say in how many animals get born – for sheep, they decide when to let the rams into the pasture, and for cattle – well, let’s just say for now that bulls aren’t used very much and more, and AI in farming circles does not stand for Artificial Intelligence.
*One of the friendly sheep is named Elsie, and so every time I visit the sheep the song Cabaret inevitably starts rolling in my head...inappropriate to the situation on several levels.
**And, for future reference, if a cow is getting too close and trying to get all up in your space, you can smack its ear (not box - firmly bat). Since cattle-speak doesn’t include ear contact, this reinforces the notion that humans are special – we speak a secret, unfathomable language, if you will.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Um. Awesome.
I promise my next post will be more substantial and not another link. But. Weddings on farms. I (predictably) think it's a great idea, but in the event that I have my own farm one day I'm not sure I would want to host weddings as part of my business plan. Hm.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Pollan explains it all
Michael Pollan is the author of several best-selling books generally about Food and Agriculture in America, such as the Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food. He's also a big name in sustainable agriculture circles because he puts the important issues in an intelligent and interesting way.
He wrote a rockin' article for the New York Times recently, an open letter to the President elect.
Shortly thereafter Terry Gross interviewed him on Fresh Air, during which he proceeded to liberally quote himself in the article, so if that link expires or you don't have a NYT account, check him out there.
My thoughts: the part about how we need more young, smart farmers made me feel all warm and fuzzy, as well as justified in my life choice.
He wrote a rockin' article for the New York Times recently, an open letter to the President elect.
Shortly thereafter Terry Gross interviewed him on Fresh Air, during which he proceeded to liberally quote himself in the article, so if that link expires or you don't have a NYT account, check him out there.
My thoughts: the part about how we need more young, smart farmers made me feel all warm and fuzzy, as well as justified in my life choice.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
What is raw milk and why does it matter?; I try my hand at science writing
Milking by hand is at once strenuous, kind of gross, and great fun (I admit I often find the last two to be synonymous). Cow teats: wrinkled, squishy, and limp. There’s a trick to squeezing them downward to get the milk out, and then aiming into the milk bucket rather than your boots. I think I’ve finally gotten the hang of it - I did Sunday night’s milking solo!
We usually get about a gallon of milk with each milking, which happens twice a day. It goes in the milk fridge, which is *always* full of milk. So much milk! They make kefir (essentially a yogurt equivalent) and skim the cream to make sour cream (the skimmed milk goes to the chickens); I made butter once, and I kind of want to try my hand at cheese.
What this means, though, is that we’re drinking raw milk – a contentious substance and topic in the world of food. Depending on who’s doing the talking, raw milk is either a healthful panacea or a deadly poison. It’s been a little difficult for me to sort out the facts from the two polarized viewpoints, but I think I’ve finally got the gist.
The main trouble is that cows everywhere don’t care if they get a little brown and crusty with stuff that’s only partly mud. No matter how careful people are, milk is still going to be a bit contaminated – this holds for milking done by both hand and machine. If raw milk is allowed to stay warm for too long it can start growing populations of bacteria that can cause food poisoning. When you’re only milking one or two cows, it’s easy to take the milk straight to the kitchen, filter it, and put it in the fridge to prevent that. But when you’re milking a hundred cows with a milking machine, it’s much harder to prevent bacterial growth: the milk cools more slowly when it’s collected in a big tank where fresh, warm milk constantly coming in, and the more equipment involved in the process the harder it is to make sure that everything is clean for every milking. Add the equipment and time for shipping and processing at a central plant, and the risk of dangerous contamination increases. That’s why mass-produced milk is pasteurized – by heating the milk, all the bacteria are killed and the milk can sit safely on the grocery store shelf for longer.
The raw milk enthusiasts point out that pasteurization denatures the enzyme lactase, which helps to break down the sugar in milk (lactose) and make it more digestible and bio-available; they also hold that the low level of microbes in fresh and safely stored raw milk is good for one’s immune system. I can attest that the raw milk we’re drinking is safe and delicious, and we can enjoy it because we’re being safe and careful with it. For anyone who’s dead-set on drinking raw milk but can’t keep a cow, the most trustworthy and safest raw milk will be the same stuff the farmer and her or his family are drinking.
We usually get about a gallon of milk with each milking, which happens twice a day. It goes in the milk fridge, which is *always* full of milk. So much milk! They make kefir (essentially a yogurt equivalent) and skim the cream to make sour cream (the skimmed milk goes to the chickens); I made butter once, and I kind of want to try my hand at cheese.
What this means, though, is that we’re drinking raw milk – a contentious substance and topic in the world of food. Depending on who’s doing the talking, raw milk is either a healthful panacea or a deadly poison. It’s been a little difficult for me to sort out the facts from the two polarized viewpoints, but I think I’ve finally got the gist.
The main trouble is that cows everywhere don’t care if they get a little brown and crusty with stuff that’s only partly mud. No matter how careful people are, milk is still going to be a bit contaminated – this holds for milking done by both hand and machine. If raw milk is allowed to stay warm for too long it can start growing populations of bacteria that can cause food poisoning. When you’re only milking one or two cows, it’s easy to take the milk straight to the kitchen, filter it, and put it in the fridge to prevent that. But when you’re milking a hundred cows with a milking machine, it’s much harder to prevent bacterial growth: the milk cools more slowly when it’s collected in a big tank where fresh, warm milk constantly coming in, and the more equipment involved in the process the harder it is to make sure that everything is clean for every milking. Add the equipment and time for shipping and processing at a central plant, and the risk of dangerous contamination increases. That’s why mass-produced milk is pasteurized – by heating the milk, all the bacteria are killed and the milk can sit safely on the grocery store shelf for longer.
The raw milk enthusiasts point out that pasteurization denatures the enzyme lactase, which helps to break down the sugar in milk (lactose) and make it more digestible and bio-available; they also hold that the low level of microbes in fresh and safely stored raw milk is good for one’s immune system. I can attest that the raw milk we’re drinking is safe and delicious, and we can enjoy it because we’re being safe and careful with it. For anyone who’s dead-set on drinking raw milk but can’t keep a cow, the most trustworthy and safest raw milk will be the same stuff the farmer and her or his family are drinking.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Markets!
Right now, at the end of October, my/the farm schedule is still dominated by markets. Twice a week, T and I harvest, pack the truck, and drive off to market. Working at farmers' market was one of the things I was most excited about before coming here, and after three weeks and six markets under my belt, I'm still enjoying it.
I'm kind of a farmers’ market junkie, and neither of our markets disappoints. I love markets generally for their array of colorful and healthful food, the opportunity to support local producers, the profusion of re-usable canvas bags. But it's really the people who make the market, and some wonderful characters have turned up at market. Both markets we go to have a great community of vendors, trading goods and catching up during the quiet moments between sales. There's one baker who gave us two bushels of bread that he couldn't sell one day; and there are two lovely ladies at one market who sell crepes and give them free to vendors in exchange for herbs or fruit. And I love all the friendly and wacky people who turn up as customers. They ask all kinds of questions - my favorite customer this week had a greyhound wearing a blue-flame patterned sweater, and she was absolutely delighted that we were selling golden raspberries.
I haven’t even mentioned the rush that comes from doing basic arithmetic on the fly in front of strangers (6.30 for tomatoes plus 3.50 for eggs and 2.50 for a bunch of kale leaves how much change out of a 20.00? Don't try this while sleepy.)
I worry a lot about the world’s problems. Farmers markets offer a concrete way to feel like I'm making a difference - in selling fresh, organic produce, people get the opportunity to buy and eat food that's good for both them and the environment and the farm gets to stay solvent. And I love that it provides a gathering space for the community - it's often been the place where I go to catch up with my friends.
Our markets are over at the end of October, and even though our truck brings less and less as fall frost kills the remaining crops, and even though they're time consuming, I will be sad for them to end.
I'm kind of a farmers’ market junkie, and neither of our markets disappoints. I love markets generally for their array of colorful and healthful food, the opportunity to support local producers, the profusion of re-usable canvas bags. But it's really the people who make the market, and some wonderful characters have turned up at market. Both markets we go to have a great community of vendors, trading goods and catching up during the quiet moments between sales. There's one baker who gave us two bushels of bread that he couldn't sell one day; and there are two lovely ladies at one market who sell crepes and give them free to vendors in exchange for herbs or fruit. And I love all the friendly and wacky people who turn up as customers. They ask all kinds of questions - my favorite customer this week had a greyhound wearing a blue-flame patterned sweater, and she was absolutely delighted that we were selling golden raspberries.
I haven’t even mentioned the rush that comes from doing basic arithmetic on the fly in front of strangers (6.30 for tomatoes plus 3.50 for eggs and 2.50 for a bunch of kale leaves how much change out of a 20.00? Don't try this while sleepy.)
I worry a lot about the world’s problems. Farmers markets offer a concrete way to feel like I'm making a difference - in selling fresh, organic produce, people get the opportunity to buy and eat food that's good for both them and the environment and the farm gets to stay solvent. And I love that it provides a gathering space for the community - it's often been the place where I go to catch up with my friends.
Our markets are over at the end of October, and even though our truck brings less and less as fall frost kills the remaining crops, and even though they're time consuming, I will be sad for them to end.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Thoughts on blogging
So, my posts on this blog have been sorely delayed by the conundrum of how much of this blog to make public and how much I want to keep private. I want to share how I'm doing with all the wonderful people in my life, but I want to respect the privacy of the farm where I'm working and not put all the details of its workings on the internet for anybody to read. I also want to have a place to post my musings without filling everybody's inboxes with weekly updates of "guess how many names of different varieties of hot peppers I learned *this* week!"
More detail than you needed: I thought about doing this on LiveJournal where posts can be private or public, but I didn't think my mom would want to create an LJ just so she could read the stuff I want locked for people I know. So, I'll try this for a while.
More detail than you needed: I thought about doing this on LiveJournal where posts can be private or public, but I didn't think my mom would want to create an LJ just so she could read the stuff I want locked for people I know. So, I'll try this for a while.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)