Fields and Fire

do a little (sun) dance

Well, last Thursday I was so tired of chill and rain, and wet clothes mildewing on the drying rack that I finally made a fire in the woodstove, cranked up The Talking Heads, and got my boogie on with Ella.  While we can't claim full credit for the sun coming out the next day, I like to think we helped.

I don't know about you, but personally I'm totally thrilled to see the concept of CSAs spreading, and also expanding in concept (click here if you don't know what a CSA is).  We're pushing this idea forward ourselves, obviously, with Pioneer Valley Heritage Grain's CSA.  We're also personally members of a delicious meat CSA (Chesnut Farms - delicious, grass fed meat delivered frozen once a month).  And newest to me - my membership to Foxfiber Farm's wool CSA (or "sheep shares" as they call it).  Once a season, I get two skeins of yarn in the mail, in the colorway I've pre-chosen.  It's gorgeous fiber, and I love getting my yarn right here in the Valley, from such talented folks.  Wait, not folks, neighbors as Ben is reminding me over my shoulder.  And he's absolutely right.  Neighbors.

We were quite busy this weekend, waving from Roy's horse-drawn wagon in a Fourth of July parade, working on the horse stall for Cole, harvesting the last of this year's strawberries (precious!), and the first of the summer's raspberries.  Yeah!  I've been wondering, as Ella devours fistful after fistful of berries, how on earth we could satiate her berry appetite if we didn't grow our own.  We just planted two blueberry bushes, with a plan to order more late this summer.  I always flinch at the price tag at first ($35), but then I think about how much each little basket of blueberries would cost if I bought them instead.  Maybe I'm telling you something you already know (I hope so!), but until we end our culture's  ridiculous war on dandelions and obsession with lawns instead of growing food and beauty, it can't really be said too much. Not to mention that a grocery store (or even a farmer's market) doesn't look like this:

Today I proved (though it may never happen again) that it is possible to make jam alone with a two year old.  And neither of us even cried!  (Thanks once again to the Ergo and nursing, of course.)  It was fun, and I love how well we're doing with preserves so far.  Right now we're doing about a batch a week - not too shabby! 

Ben got the summer newsletter printed, so we'll post it very soon on the updated website, and we'll have hard copies at the bakery, for anyone who wants a copy to hold in their hands. 

small grains

I wanted to share more photos from our small farm in Shutesbury, particularly of the grain trials we're doing.  Here are the oats, and some spring-planted Glenn wheat:

 

I had planned a lot more photos for this post, but had so many wonderful visitors at the bakery today that I didn't have time to get them in!  So more to come very very soon. 

To answer a burning question from CSA members, here is one really great cookbook that covers all the grains we're growing (plus more!), with basic cooking info and some really delicious, creative recipes.  It's Whole Grains Every Day, Every Way by Lorna Sass.
And here is the (slightly altered recipe) for baked beans I mentioned last time, taken from Cooking from Quilt Country by Marcia Adams. 
Baked Beans from Scratch (serves 6 - generously)
1 pound navy beans or Boston brown beans (more on this below)
pinch of baking soda
1/4 pound salt pork or bacon (optional)
1 onion, chopped
2 Tbsp brown sugar
1/2 tsp mustard
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 cup molasses or maple syrup

Soak the beans overnight in water to cover.  Do not drain.  The next day, bring to a boil and add the baking soda.  Lower the heat, skim the foam, and simmer, partially covered, about 20 minutes, or until the skins peel back when blown on.  Drain, reserving cooking liquid in a separate container.
Preheat oven to 300 F.  Place bacon or salt pork in bottom of a bean pot or deep 2 qt ceramic casserole (a metal pan works fine, and I've also done this in a crock pot from this point on).  To the drained beans, add the remaining ingredients; mix well.  Pour bean mixture into pan, add enough of the bean liquid to cover.  Bake, covered, for 4-6 hours.  Keep checking, adding more liquid as necessary so the beans remain covered at all times.  Do not stir, because this will make the beans break and become mushy.  Cook until tender.  Yum!

So, the original recipe calls for navy beans, but you can bet your britches that the original Boston Baked Beans were made with . . . Boston Favorite beans.  Which we planted this year, with seed obtained from the fabulous Seed Savers Exchange.  Can't wait to make my baked beans with the real thing this winter.  

We have a subscription to Orion Magazine at the bakery, and each issue really blows me away with its fresh ideas and well-crafted essays and poetry.  How lucky are we to have such a wonderful magazine made locally (and completely ad free!)?  Last issue's article "The Barbaric Heart " by Curtis White has really stayed with me.  It discusses capitalism as a modern form of barbarianism, and that the antidote to this is beauty, and thoughtfulness.  The whole article can now be read online here, but I particularly wanted to share this excerpt:

 "What we want is the beautiful. We say it with a smile on our faces when we go for a hike, or when we visit an “eco-friendly” town full of bike paths and locally owned shops with a mountain vista in the background. We do not say of such places, “I’m grooving on this system’s ecological balance.” Or, “The Green Economy is working well.” We say, “It’s beautiful here!” And yet when we set out to make our most public arguments for nature, we seem almost embarrassed to say that what convinces us is the argument of the beautiful. The thoughtfulness of the beautiful. In fact, I’m embarrassed right now!"

This weekend, we're making strawberry-rhubarb jam, and building a horse stall!  Giddyup.  Here's wishing you a handmade, beautiful weekend.

June garden

Rain rain and more . . . rain.  I'm having some deja vu of last summer, but this summer at least, we're better prepared to bring in the grain, no matter what the weather.  Ben is hard at work preparing a summer newsletter, with lots more on this, so I won't steal his thunder.  But I will tell you that Ben, farmer Adam, Seth Seeger, a metalworker, and a volunteer engineer have been very busy building a grain dryer from scratch.  Yay!

Despite the rain, and the unnervingly cool weather, the garden is moving right along. 

We've been out in the drizzle, harvesting strawberries before they dissolve, getting ready for jam-making this weekend.  I'm determined to kick serious preserving butt this year.  I'm so ready to never see the inside of a grocery store again.
We planted corn in our field at home again, since the crows ate all the little shoots last time.  A few hours later, we heard the raucous sound of . . . a pack of crows, in the corn field.  We've put out piles for them to eat, hoping that Eliot Coleman is right and crows with full bellies won't go to the trouble of digging up our corn.  Arrggg. 
It seems that nearly every week Ella still has a new first, but this is a big one, I swear.  First haircut!  I especially like how in this photo she seems to have done the haircut herself.

Our draft horse search continues.  We were very lucky this week to meet a local teamster, Roy Nilson.  He's a super sweetie and knows a lot about the horses in the area, so we're hoping this means we're closing in on ours!  After meeting Roy and two possible horses (huge Belgians), Ben was so pumped that the next day he, Seth, Cristie, and Jeanine put up fencing for the horse paddock.  One step closer.