Food & Farm Notes

Special Dog

2010-12-10T10:18:00.004-06:00

Our sister Beth came up from Mexico for Thanksgiving . . . with a beautiful dog she rescued from what she calls “the jail” – a un-shaded fenced area near Calexico, with over 300 dogs that had been rounded up.

This particular dog, a golden retriever-golden labrador mix, appeared to her in a dream . . . it’s a long story, but suffice to say that this is a special dog in need of a special home.

She is about 2 ½ years old, healthy and spayed, loyal and loving, playful and well-adapted to indoor living. She is also blind, but even Beth (a veterinarian) didn’t realize she was blind for quite some time because her senses of smell and hearing are so acute that she has no problems negotiating the world.

However, she does need a real home. The ideal home would be where she has a human companion with her most of the day -- a stable environment and a regular schedule. She does get along well with other dogs (after the initial introduction) and is even ok with cats. She will be fine in the city and is fine on a leash – in fact she seems to be more secure with the leash connecting her to someone she trusts. Once she has an olfactory map of her world, she doesn’t need any special help. She does have an extra need for intimacy and the security of having a person nearby. Her sense of connection and loyalty make her an excellent guard dog, as well as a loving companion.

If you think “Spirit” is the dog for you, or just want to find out a little more about her, call Beth before Dec 25 -- 309-965-2304.

2010-10-14T19:18:00.010-05:00

We have come to the time of the year when root vegetables are at their peak -- of goodness, and of girth.

But don't take my word for it . . . take Deborah Madison's. The celebrated writer and local food advocate says:

It's such a prime moment for root vegetables and bigger doesn't mean less in quality . . . unless you're growing in some really hot dry place, like the Rio Grand Valley.

Because Deborah loves big root vegetables, we brought her one of Henry's big long burdock roots, and a couple of large beets.

The burdock she presented to the world in all its glory.

The beet she held in her hands like a heart -- a big, red, beet-ing heart.

Then she grabbed a grater, and within a few minutes both beets were transformed into a big loose pile of shreds.

Then she got out a yogurt sauce she had made earlier, and tossed a half a cup or so of it with the beets. And we had the best beet salad of our lives -- just like that!

I'm not sure, but I think this was the recipe for the yogurt sauce. It's from Clifford Wright, and Deborah wrote about it here.
From the book A Mediterranean Feast by Clifford A. Wright

Ingredients

1 tsp. salt

4 fresh garlic cloves, peeled

¾ cup high-quality, full-fat yogurt

6 Tbsp. strained yogurt, or labna (see Note, below)

½ tsp. cayenne pepper

1 tsp. chopped dill weed

~ Extra-virgin olive oil

Steps

1. Pound the salt and garlic together in a mortar until mushy.

2. Blend it with the yogurt, labna, cayenne, and dill. Turn it into a bowl and swirl olive oil over the surface.

To strain yogurt, measure it into a small strainer set over a bowl and leave it for three or more hours; discard the strained liquid. Alternatively, for this recipe you could use Greek-style yogurt or even sour cream.

Digging Deep for Burdock

2010-09-09T21:37:00.004-05:00

Since we're rather sparse in the greens category this fall, thanks to the extremely hot and dry August, we are bringing up more roots, including Japanese turnips, daikon, and burdock.

The long tap root of the burdock plant goes down about 3 feet. You cannot pull them as you would a beet or radish, but must dig down alongside them, loosen them, and gently lift them out. Although most burdock roots are straight, every now and then, you'll see an intertwined pair of roots like these that our intern Charlie just extricated here.

Burdock root definitely falls into the “can’t judge a book . . .” category of vegetables. At the market we sometimes wish that burdock were red or yellow and shiny like a colored pepper to attract the human eye. Alas, burdock is dull and brown and looks tough and unappetizing. But it is tender (you can scrape away the thin skin with a light fingernail) and earthy and delicious. It is also low in calories and high in fiber, iron, and inulin, a carbohydrate that is good for diabetics. The humble exterior of the large, dark, woody-looking root belies the sweet, nutty, delicate, crunchy flesh within.

Henry and I first encountered burdock as a food on our separate sojourns in Japan during the 1980s. Although the plant grows throughout Europe and North America, until very recently it had been cultivated only in Japan. Only now are we rediscovering what many Native Americans knew about the virtues of burdock. For the Illiniwek, burdock was an important winter food. They dug it in the fall, under the Harvest and Hunter’s Moons, and dried it. Then they ate it throughout the long, cold months of winter.

In addition to being used as a food item for millennia, many cultures have used burdock medicinally. Early Chinese physicians treated colds, flu, throat infections, and pneumonia with burdock preparations, and it is considered a powerful source of “yang” energy according to Chinese philosophy and macrobiotic practice—meaning it gives you the energy and strength to do what needs to be done.

As I mentioned, we're a bit low on fall salad greens this year, but look for some lovely mizuna bunches (the frilly, saw-toothed leaves above) and mesclun mix (using some of our buttery lettuces like the one below) coming to the Evanston Market this Saturday.

Saving (not Spitting) Watermelon Seeds

2010-09-02T23:52:00.005-05:00

Given the 650+ varieties of vegetables Henry grows, seed-saving is not something we have time for. But when the seed companies stop carrying a variety that Henry loves, we have no choice.

So one of my happy tasks the past few days has been to make my way through a big, delicious, yellow-fleshed melon known as AU Golden Producer, set the seeds aside, rinse them, and put them on a napkin to dry.

Then I'll put them in an envelope, label it with the variety and date, and give it to Henry to plant next year.

And so the wonderful cycle of planting and reaping continues.

Last Chance for Outrageous Melons

2010-09-02T20:29:00.007-05:00

This will be the last week for MELONS, so come and get 'em, because, as Mark Twain wrote:

“It was not a watermelon that Eve took; we know it because she repented.”

I might add that it was not a last-of-season watermelon for sure, because hot days and cool nights are the absolute best for the melons, and so the most delicious ones tend to come at the end-of-season. In addition, our recent dry weather ensures an even stronger, sweeter taste, since there will be less water, and more flavor. So if you haven’t indulged in one of Henry’s melons, do so now, and if you have, indulge again! Here are a few of his varieties:

Mickie Lee – gray-green skin, with deep red flesh

Sorbet Swirl -- beautiful pastel swirls of pink and yellow flesh that has first-rate sweetness and texture

Osh Kirgizia -- light-green skin with jagged dark green stripes; sweet pink flesh inside.

Verona – A cross developed by Mississippi State in 1965 with thin, green-black rind, and deep red flesh. Best of the Black Diamond types. Very firm, sweet and tasty.

AU Golden Producer – large melon with bright yellow flesh, crisp and delicious!

Although Henry loves diversity, he tries not to plant watermelon varieties that look the same--just for ease and speed of harvest. It’s easy to tell a Mickylee, with its gray-green mottled rind, from a Verona with a dark green/black rind. But sometimes two varieties Henry cannot live without look exactly the same. That’s when the etching comes in.

If a red variety and a yellow variety look the same on the outside, then Henry will etch a Y on each yellow melon so the customers can tell them apart. The same goes for the S on the Sorbet Swirl, and the C on the Cream of Saskatchewan (which is actually an heirloom variety from Russia, by way of Saskatchewan).

Extreme Heat

2010-08-14T13:46:00.004-05:00

“Sure is hot this week.” That’s what we heard from almost everyone who came to get their CSA share Tuesday evening. And it was. And is.

Monday evening I was up late and tracked the temperature: 90 degrees at 11pm, 84 at 11:30, and finally, as an electrical storm came in from the southwest, 79 at midnight. That was when I went outside and watched the strobe of 3 or 4 lightning flashes each second turn my arms into stop action photos as I raised them up above my head to stretch.

The humidity goes up to 100% each night, making the heat index stay around 90, so there is no respite – even when I put on a wet T-shirt and turn the fan on. I honestly do not know how Henry and the kids and the farmhands and interns keep going all day long.

It makes me wonder, when people comment about the heat, whether they know real heat -- not heat as in a number read by a newscaster, but as in the mind-numbing, body-draining, soul-scorching heat of hour upon hour of physical labor under a brutal sun. Slaves died in this kind of heat. And farm laborers here in the U.S. still do. A couple young men just died up in Michigan cleaning out a silo at a big dairy operation.

Don’t worry, we are not dying down here on Henry’s Farm. But being outside working in these conditions, you do realize how easily that can happen.

All things considered, we’re lucky here though. (Or, as Henry is fond of saying, “It could be a lot worse.”) Unlike the fields most farm workers labor in, we have shade nearby, and we take breaks, and drink plenty of water, and do not suffer from pesticide exposure or disrespectful treatment.

A week like this one does make you consider more deeply, though, all of the food that begins in hot fields and ends in cool refrigerators. Whether one’s quest is for fast and cheap or slow and sustainable, all that food came from some-where and some-one and was picked under some weather, often cruelly hot.

So, next time you buy an apple, a melon, a tomato, or a bunch of kale, take a moment to think about the person who planted the seed, weeded the row, mulched and tended the plant, and finally harvested its fruits for you.

A Lovely Weed: Purslane

2010-08-14T13:37:00.005-05:00

My favorite purslane reference is from Henry David Thoreau, who wrote:

"I have made a satisfactory dinner off a dish of purslane which I gathered and boiled. Yet men have come to such a pass that they frequently starve, not from want of necessaries, but for want of luxuries."

I recently discovered that Thoreau also wrote about aronia during his stay at Walden Pond. He didn’t like the tannic berries, but they led him to philosophize that everything in nature was not made for humans’ pleasure. (Too bad he didn’t know about my sister Teresa's aronia jam and smoothies!)

But he did know about the goodness of purslane, as many of our Mexican, Indian, and Greek customers also do. They always snap it up, even as others do a double-take, and ask, “Isn’t that a weed??”

Strange how something so nutritious and delicious, a staple of so many cuisines, could come to be known as a weed. Purslane originated in India, and is reputed to have been Gandhi's favorite food. Now it is “cosmopolitan,” meaning it grows all around the world, including at Henry’s Farm. Part of the reason for its evolutionary success is that a single plant can produce up to 52,300 seeds. What's more, purslane seeds can survive for up to 30 years in undisturbed soil, guaranteeing us good nutritious food long after peak-oil causes industrial agriculture as we know it to fade and die.

Purslane may be common, but it is uncommonly good for you. It tops the list of plants high in vitamin E and an essential omega-3 fatty acid called alpha-linolenic acid (ALA). Artemis Simopoulos, co-author of The Omega Diet, says purslane is the richest known plant source of ALA. In addition, purslane provides six times more vitamin E than spinach and seven times more beta carotene than carrots. It’s also rich in vitamin C, magnesium, riboflavin, potassium and phosphorus.

If purslane is a weed, then it is, as Henry says, “a lovely weed.” Unlike foxtail and other grassy weeds, it grows low to the ground, does not compete with the vegetables for sunlight, and makes a gorgeous carpet underneath the heads of lettuce and other crops, keeping the ground cool. This week we’ll not only have purslane in the salad mix, but in big bunches as well. You can use it raw in salads or sauteed as a side dish. In addition to the crispy texture you would expect from a succulent, purslane also has a slightly lemony and peppery flavor.

Purslane Salad

2 or more bunches purslane, washed
Yogurt -- enough to cover purslane leaves
Garlic – as much as you want, minced
salt and crushed red pepper flakes, to taste
a few drops of olive oil
Mix the yogurt, salt, pepper, olive oil and garlic in a bowl. Add the purslane. Stir lightly and serve.

Cucumber-Purslane Yogurt Salad

5 large Cucumbers, peeled, seeded and cut into quarter-round slices
1/4 pound Purslane (1 or 2 bunches), washed and drained well
2 tablespoons or more each: fresh chopped mint, cilantro and red or green shiso
4 cups Whole milk yogurt
1/4 cup Virgin olive oil
3 cloves Garlic, puréed with the blade of a knife
2 teaspoon ground Coriander
kosher Salt and ground Black Pepper

Place the cucumber, purslane and herbs into a large bowl. In another bowl, stir together the yogurt, olive oil and garlic, coriander and season to taste with salt. Add the yogurt mixture to the vegetables and mix well. Add a pinch of ground black pepper. Taste the dressed cucumber-purslane salad for seasoning, adding a little more salt if needed. Serve chilled.

At the Market June 19th

2010-06-17T16:31:00.004-05:00

This week at the market, you'll notice that we've reached a turning point.

As we approach the Summer Solstice, when the sun stops it's gradual northerly motion, seems to stand still on June 21, and then turns to begin its southerly motion, we begin to turn as well. After months of enjoying the lush leafy greens of Spring -- the salad greens, lettuces, cilantro, dill, -- as well as the early radishes, kohlrabi, snow peas, sugar snap peas, and broccoli . . . we turn to the true fruits of summer.

Those botanical fruits (from a blossom) include the summer squashes, cucumbers, peppers, beans . . . and very soon, what you've all been waiting for, tomatoes.

For now though, enjoy the garlic scapes, since this will be the last week for them . . . see earlier post on scapes, below.

Summer Berry Explosion

2010-06-17T16:02:00.011-05:00

This is the week when the summer berries suddenly ripen, and we are nearly over-run with an embarrassment of riches, including raspberries (red and black), gooseberries, cherries, blueberries, and currants -- red, black, and white.

Last week we featured the ruby red currants, which are so beautiful they sell themselves.

The white ones are a bit more subtle, with their golden and rosy undertones, but every bit as beautiful and delicious -- and simple to prepare as well -- simply throw a handful into your smoothie, pancake batter, or favorite muffin recipe. Or add them to other fruit in a pie, cobbler, or jam. They are particularly good in European flans or meringues, or in those lovely English "summer puddings" and "fools." Here's a Red Currant, White Currant, Cherry Fool from Gordon Ramsey.

Teresa has three kinds of gooseberries --large and delicious--add to pies, crumbles, tarts, sorbet, and yes, fools!

Gooseberry Fool

1 pint Gooseberries, stemmed
1/4 cup Sugar, or to taste
2 tb Water
1 c Heavy cream, whipped

Put the gooseberries in a nonreactive saucepan with 1/4 cup sugar and the water. Cook very gently until the gooseberies are soft enough to mash. Put them through a sieve or food mill and add sugar to taste. Fold the gooseberry puree through the whipped cream. Chill for several hours.

At the Evanston Market Sat. June 12

2010-06-11T07:46:00.007-05:00

Henry's "Amazing Wall of Lettuce" will be even more amazing this week, as he'll be bringing up over 1000 big bushy heads of over 40 varieties of lettuce . . . plus Endive, Escarole, and Radicchio of many kinds.

NEW at the market this week:

Baby Fennel, Cabbage (Yum!), Basil (Lots!), Knob Onions (red, white, and yellow), purple and multi-colored carrots, and other new items that Henry can’t remember right now.

Also . . . Henry's Special Japanese Hand Weeding Tools (think Father’s Day)

Also . . .The Seasons on Henry’s Farm and Solstices and Equinoxes – look for Terra at the book table from 5 a.m. to 9:30 a.m. After that you can get pre-signed books from my sister Jill or her girls.

See you at the Market!

Time for Garlic Scapes

2010-06-11T07:35:00.002-05:00

Hard-neck varieties of garlic produce a central stalk, or scape, that shoots straight up from the roots, through the middle of the bulb, and 3 or more feet into the air. As the garlic matures, the scapes dance and bend in graceful arcs and curly-cues. Soon they will straighten and harden into tough, unappetizing stalks. But right now, while still curly, they are tender and provide a delightfully subtle garlic flavor in salads, soups, stir-fries, and more.

A scape is something like a seed pod, but since garlic reproduces asexually, the scape does not contain true seeds, but rather little mini garlic cloves called bulbils. These can be planted and will produce more garlic plants, but they will be small. It takes several generations of replanting to get plants of the same size as the original, and so Henry grows next year’s garlic by saving back some of the mature cloves from this year’s crop, which he will harvest in the first week of July.

Superstar chefs are seriously into garlic scapes, but there are a lot of simple things to do with them.

Garlic Scape Ideas:
- sauté in butter and olive oil
- add sliced scapes to any stir fry recipe
- slice and sprinkle over any pasta; cook them in almost any sauce recipe
- great in guacamole and fresh salsa, too
- chop & add to softened cream cheese
- use them as you would green onions
- good in salads, on bruschetta, pizza
- an excellent addition to stocks

Roasted Garlic Scapes
Take the scapes and put them in a lightly oiled roasting pan. Sprinkle with sea salt. Put the covered pan in a hot (425 °F) oven for 30 to 45 min., or until scapes begin to turn brown. Serve as a side or main dish.

First Red Currants at Teresa's!

2010-06-11T07:21:00.005-05:00

Teresa writes:

In my opinion, red currants are the most beautiful of all the fruits that I grow. They glow ruby red as if lit from within. In the shade of the branches, the long strigs sway in and out of view, half hidden by the dark green, maple-shaped leaves.

Red currants are tart, so they are perfect for sweetened desserts or in combination with sweeter fruits such as raspberries and strawberries. They are very high in vitamin C--one source says 30 times higher than oranges by weight! If you don’t have time to bake a dessert, just add currants to a smoothie or to your favorite muffin or scone recipe. Some people, like my daughter, Marina, even like them plain. Try it, maybe you will too!

In most of Europe, variations on Red Currant Tarts are as ubiquitous as apple pie is here in the States.

Red Currant Tart

Crust:

2 cups flour

1/2 cup cold butter

1/2 cup sieved powdered sugar

1 egg yolk

a pinch of salt

filling/topping:

1 pound red currants

2 eggs

4-5 tbsp brown sugar

1/2 cup heavy cream

Crust: Sieve the powdered sugar, mix all ingredients, and knead together. The dough will not want to stick together, but keep working it until it does. Form a ball, cover it, and let it rest in the fridge for about half an hour. Then roll it out about half a centimeter thick (dust board with flour as needed) and press into ~5 inch buttered flan tins or Crème brûlée forms. Repeatedly poke a few holes across the bottom, line with parchment paper and add pie weights (I used rice, dry beans work, too) and prebake them in the oven at about 175°C (350°F) for about 10 minutes. Take the crusts out, remove the baking weights and let them cool down.

Filling: Remove red currants from the stems, wash them and pat dry with a kitchen towel. Arrange berries on the dough. Combine eggs with cream and sugar, beat until you have a homogeneous mixture and pour over the currants (about two thirds the height of the red currants, because the mixture will rise a bit).

Bake at 180°C (355°F) in the oven for 20 minutes or until lightly browned, remove and let chill. Dust with powdered sugar, if desired. Best eaten still a little warm or on the next day…

Red Barn Farm Apples . . . Coming Soon

2010-06-11T07:09:00.008-05:00

In this week's Food & Farm Notes, Halley writes:

On our small island amid the rolling waves of corn and soybeans, everything is gearing up for summer. As the days grow longer, so does the list of chores.

This week, preparing for the big apple harvest later this summer involved countless hours mowing the waist-high grass and using it to mulch around the base of each tree.

We have also been applying Kaolin powder, a floury mixture made of clay that repels pests.

As for the goats, the kids born in early spring are increasingly playful, hopping on and off the old wire spools stacked in the pasture in a dance of perpetual joy. A little over two weeks ago, Clara Belle had her kids--one boy and two girls, Elsa and Espresso. Espresso had some trouble learning to nurse so we put her and her mother on the milking stand so we could help her. She successfully learned how to nurse, but now she refuses to drink anywhere but on the milking stand! (To meet some of our other goats and learn about their personalities, visit our website. You can also order soap there and we'll send it to you or as a gift to a friend.)

We milk three goats every day and get about one gallon of milk. We could get more, but the kids still like to drink a little and a gallon is enough for us to drink and to make cheese and soap.

Look for these soaps on Saturday, as well as several seasonal gift bags, perfect for late spring and summer birthday gifts . . . and Father’s Day, too – Silk and Milk might be the perfect one (in addition to, or instead of, a tie)!

Eggs-tra Cleansing (with eggshells!)
Sour Cream
Silk and Milk Soap (for Dad’s Day!)
Rosemary Mist
Luxurious Lavender (aromatherapy!)
Rosehip
Milk-and-Honey Facial
Café Au Lait
Strawberry Scrub
Honey Oatmeal
Yogurt Parfait
Snow's Simple Soap

Henry's Farm Food Notes: Good Weeds

2010-06-03T22:26:00.007-05:00

Amaranth and Lambs Quarters
In the past year or two Henry has branched out from harvesting just the wild lamb's quarters, purslane, and amaranth to actually planting some semi-domesticated varieties of these "weeds" grown in parts of the world where they are considered good food, not weeds.

At the market this week, you'll see the wild green amaranth as well as bunches of Golden Giant Amaranth and Hopi Red Dye amaranth. (We use the loose leaves of young Hopi Red - photo above - as part of our mesclun salad mix.)

Hopi Red Dye has magnificently burgundy-colored leaves, and was used by the Hopis to make ceremonial red cornbread. The young plants also make delicious steamed greens, and their leaves can be added to a salad mix, as Henry has done with the mesclun the past few weeks. In addition, many native peoples grind the seeds into a high protein, gluten-free flour. The Golden Giant amaranth is a variant of the Red Dye amaranth.

Magenta Spreen is a variety of chenopodia native to India that has also been cultivated in China and other Asian countries. Like Lamb’s Quarters, Magenta spreen is rich in vitamins A and C, calcium and iron. In the center of the top whorl are beautiful magenta leaves.

Wild Lamb’s Quarters are tasty and nutritious -- read all about them in my column in the June Issue of Mindful Metropolis.

Amaranthus is a “cosmopolitan” genus – found all over the world and valued as a nutritious and delicious food. From Asia to the Himalayas to North and South America, amaranth’s young leaves as well as the mature grain have been a mainstay of widely varying cuisines. It was one of the staple foodstuffs of the Incas, and was also used by the Aztecs and other native peoples of Mexico to prepare ritual drinks and foods. In some Aztec ceremonies, images of gods were made with amaranth mixed with honey, and then cut into pieces to be eaten by the people. This looked a bit too much like the Christian communion to the Spanish priests, who then forbade the cultivation of the grain for centuries.

About 60 species are recognized within the genus Amaranthus, from the Greek amarantos, the “one that does not wither.” As Shakespeare wrote of Cleopatra, “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety,” so with the gorgeous and nutritious amaranth. Like most native plants, amaranth is a great source of vitamins and minerals, including Vitamins A, B6, C, riboflavin and folate, as well as calcium, iron, magnesium, phosphorus, potassium, zinc, copper and manganese.

Basic Amaranth Greens
3 pounds greens (about 3 bunches)
extra-virgin olive oil
sea salt
lemon wedges or vinegar

1. Rinse greens and coarsely chop greens and stems.
2. Put leaves and stems into boiling salted water for 2 to 5 minutes, or until stems are tender. Drain and squeeze gently.
3. Serve with oil, salt, and lemon wedges.

Amaranth greens can be cooked just as you would spinach, and are excellent in simply boiled or sautéed on their own, or used in quiches, lasagna, or any other way you like spinach. Don’t worry about the big stems, they cook down just as nicely as the leaves, without any stringiness or woodiness.

GREENS SOUP
3 tbsp. butter
2 or 3 green onions
3 tbsp. flour
1 1/2 tsp. salt
Few grains pepper
3 c. milk (or substitute vegetable or chicken broth)
About 2 c. cooked amaranth, lambs quarters, chard, etc -- chopped lightly and cooking liquid
Cook up onions in butter until soft.Add flour and cook until mixture browns. Add salt and pepper. Cook a few minutes over medium heat. Add milk and lambs quarters. Then heat gently. You can either eat as-is, or make it velvety with an immersion blender or food processor.

Teresa's Fruit and Herb Notes

2010-06-03T21:46:00.008-05:00

Peak of the Strawberry Season Alert!

This week is already the peak of the season, but since the two frosts we had knocked out some of the blossoms, we won’t have to climb quite as high to reach it as we usually do. In other words, this week we will have our biggest harvest of the season, but it won’t be near as big as our usual biggest harvest. Put another way….don’t wait until too late in the morning to get to the market or you might be disappointed by tables devoid of strawberries!

Eat your straw- berries fresh out of the box, or try this:

Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler.

4 cups chopped rhubarb, cut into 1/2 inch chunks

1 pint strawberries, hulled and halved; quarter if very large

1/2 cup sugar

1 tablespoon cornstarch or 2 tablespoons flour

1 recipe Cornmeal Cobbler Biscuit Dough, below

1 egg yolk and 1 tablespoon milk for glaze

Place rhubarb and strawberries in a large bowl. Add the sugar and cornstarch or flour and toss. Spread evenly in the bottom of an 8 X 8 glass baking dish. Prepare biscuit dough. Arrange the dough over the fruit. Spread with glaze made by whisking egg and milk together. Sprinkle glaze with extra sugar. Bake until the top is golden brown and the juices are bubbling, 45-50 minutes. Let cool for 15 minutes. Serve warm with whipped cream or ice cream.

Cornmeal Cobbler Biscuit dough

1 cup flour

1/3 cup cornmeal

2 tablespoons sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

5 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

2/3 cup heavy cream or ½ cup milk

Mix dry ingredients together in a bowl. Add the cut-up butter and toss with the dry ingredients. Using a pastry blender or 2 knives, cut the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles dry breadcrumbs. Add the milk or cream. Mix just until the dough sticks together. Gently knead 5 to 10 times in the bowl. Dust the top and bottom of the dough with a little flour, then gently roll small pieces of dough into balls, flatten each one slightly, and place on the fruit.

Herb of the Week: SAGE

Why should a man die whilst Sage grows in his garden?"

- attributed to Hildegard of Bingen
12th century naturalist, philosopher, physician

The folklore of sage goes back to the ancient Greeks and Romans who believed that it could impart wisdom, skill, esteem, long life, good health, domestic virtue, mitigation of grief, and increased psychic powers to those who ate it.

Added to all of that, the plant, again according to Roman mythology, supposedly belonged to the Satyrs, a half man half goat creatures, who loved sex, drink and loud parties. So, take your pick....

I love beans and that must come from the Italian side of our family. The Tuscans are known as “mangiafagioli” or “bean eaters” because of their love of beans. Even though our ancestors hailed from southern Italy, maybe there was a Tuscan in our past, because Tuscan beans served with crusty bread and a salad is one of my favorite simple meals.

Classic Tuscan Beans

1 pound dried cannellini, pinto, or cranberry beans, about 2 cups

12 fresh sage leaves

3 cloves garlic, halved

1 tablespoon olive oil

salt and ground black pepper

Pick over, rinse, and soak the beans for 24 hours. Drain. Combine in a large pot with the sage, garlic, and olive oil. Add water to cover by 3 inches. Bring to a simmer, partially cover, and simmer gently until tender, about 1 hour. Drain. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve hot, warm, or at room temperature, seasoning each portion with about 1 teaspoon of olive oil.

ALL PLANTS -- Buy Two, Get One FREE!!

This is our last big week for plant starts, so make a little room in a sunny corner of your yard, or porch, or deck, and squeeze in a few more peppers, tomatoes, herbs, or eggplants. We even have a few tomatillo, kale, and cucumber plants left. It’s not too late to plant, and just think of all the delicious fresh produce you will have at your fingertips for the rest of the summer. Yum!

Honorable Life - by Aozora Brockman

2010-06-03T21:28:00.001-05:00

“Tomorrow is going to be a full day of planting.”

It was Saturday night and Daddy, as always, didn’t look as exhausted as he should from just a few hours of sleep and a full day of Evanston Farmers’ Market chaos as he pronounced our fate. Asa, Kazami and I looked at each other and groaned while Mommy’s eyes were filled with shinpai (worry) for Daddy.

I do confess that right then, although I was expecting hard labor the next day, I secretly believed that we couldn’t possibly have so much planting to do that it would take the whole day before the predicted rains. I believed then that we would be able to spend the remainder of our “day of rest”” in bliss –Daddy asleep, Kazami listening to pounding music, Asa reading, Mommy relaxing, and me--well, I could daydream.

I was wrong.

I was still dreaming of a lazy afternoon, however, the next morning when I found myself armed with a hoe, slashing weeds dead around tiny watermelon sprouts. It was already midmorning- we had started at nine- and already I could feel the heat creeping up through the dry soil and down from the fierce sun rays, to meet at the middle. I surveyed the multitude of watermelon, muskmelon, okra, and corn rows that flowed out across the field. Since the sprouts were still tiny and sparse (some did not come up from seed and all were spaced at least six inches apart), the seemingly barren dirt surrounding me made me feel alone and lost in a desert, so the sight of my fellow workers- Asa, Kazami, farmhand Matt, apprentices Charlie and Michelle- behind me was comforting.

Reassuring myself that this could not continue on forever, I again began moving my hoe in swift, strong movements back and forth, back and forth. Dry and hard, the ground refused to be dug up without considerable effort and the exercise was comparable to a prolonged abdominals workout.

First I weeded far around the watermelon sprout, making sure to clear at least a radius of eighteen inches on one side and up around the next sprout. As I moved on to the more difficult task of weeding closely around the sprout as to not damage it with my sharp, long hoe, I imagined the sprout’s courageous journey from a small watermelon seed. Though many obstacles such as too much rain and too cool soil likely made the battle hard-fought, this little bud of leafy green life made it through- ready to grow bigger in the sunlight and rains so that one day it could produce large, crisp, sugary fruit in hopes that another seed could carry on its honorable life.

Carefully I weeded around it; then, taking a chance, I came close to it and moved my hoe back, only to watch my baby sprout fall limply to the ground.

“All of that hard work for nothing, huh,” Michelle said to me as I nodded,in shock. But another feeling swept through me, a wave of regret and sadness. I had just murdered the very plant that I wished so much to keep alive and I could not keep from screaming insults (such as, “You are a horrible person!”) inside my head.

The hoeing continued and soon Aunt Terra arrived, though she was without a hat. I worried about her, since the sun was beating down now more than ever. I knew I was not doing so well presently- I felt as if I had taken a shower and put on still wet clothes. The lost water contributed to dehydration and faintness, my muscles were tense and heavy from too much whacking, and blisters began to appear on my thumbs from rubbing up against the top of my hoe. In my delirium, I wondered what would happen if I fainted of heat stoke…would Daddy come running? I worked on, repeating the word ‘water’ over and over again in my head.

This went on for hours and the rows seemed to stretch on and on. Eventually I gulped water from the gallon thermos at the side of the field, not caring about the splashes that escaped to drench my shirt and pants.

We worked on, too exhausted for small talk, concentrating on our mechanical movements rather than the sweat forming above our brows. When Asa and I met up on a row, he confessed that he was thoroughly drained and hungry and though I was the same, I was too tired to even exert a sound of agreement. After my muscles turned to stone, we finished the watermelon and melon rows to arrive at the last rows of okra to hoe- and finally the world seemed to brighten up as the work load eased in my mind.

Yet when we finally hoed the last okra sprout and declared ourselves victorious, Daddy bounded over to explain our next chore: planting where the sprouts hadn’t come up. Daddy would till up the soil in between the hoed sprouts where nothing had come up, and we would trench, plant by hand, and cover the seeds. So that was how we celebrated- we went right back to the start of those rows and dropped tiny seeds six inches apart into the ground. The seeds stuck to my sticky, sweaty hands as I stooped low to plant. I tried to be optimistic and be glad that this job was much easier than my frantic, depressing hoeing.

I shouldn’t have been, but I was hopeful for a break after that long job was finished- we were all hungry, thirsty and thoroughly fatigued. But a part of me was not surprised to find another job of transplanting tomatoes to follow. By this time my dream of the afternoon off was dwindling into dust in my mind. Asa asked what we still had to do, to which Daddy replied, “We’re working until dark.”

That’s exactly what we ended up doing. Asa, Kazami and I had a break after that (Daddy worked on, as always, without anything to eat) but after lunch, a cold shower and a short nap, we were back in the bottom field, transplanting the rest of the tomatoes and basil into the ground.

Drops of water from the sky tempted the soil for a bit, but soon went away. We were granted another rest period of about an hour so I took another shower while Daddy kept on tilling beds, an unstoppable machine. Soon he called us down to help plant with the tractor and we changed seed so that we could plant lettuce, beets, chard, cilantro, dill, radish, turnips, chois and more while the surrounding landscape slowly dimmed as the sun disappeared into the horizon.

We listened to a symphony of bull frogs and bird calls as Daddy decided what seed went into which beds and as Koko, our lovable dog, pleaded incessantly with her innocent brown eyes to please, please rub her belly. For the first time that day, I felt a certain tranquility flow throughout my body as I relished the sound of the chorus of laughs following another lame joke by Kazami- while I found myself admiring the simple beauty of the deep green of the surrounding trees contrasting the freshly tilled brown soil in the darkness.

Aunt Terra and Joel arrived soon after we finished planting for the day to celebrate “Memorial Day Eve” with us with Black Cows (root beer floats) and not without hilarious stories. We ate, drank and laughed merrily (Daddy enjoyed his first meal since breakfast) until it was time for them to make their way home.

“Daddy,” I asked when they were gone, “Did you get all of what you wanted done today?”

I did not groan this time when he answered, “We’re going to plant until it rains tomorrow, too.”

A Glimpse into the James Beard Awards

2010-06-03T20:00:00.016-05:00

Here’s a glimpse into my first experience of the Dionysian and self-flattering extravaganza known as the James Beard Awards.
And I was only at the poor cousin of the James Beard Awards, the Sunday evening Book and Journalism awards, not the celebrity-dripping Chef and Restaurant awards. But even the poor cousin was too rich for practical Midwestern farm folks.

But who can resist excess now and then? And who can resist the pulsing metropolis that is New York City? Although I lived there for most of the 1990s, this early May visit was the most wonderful 5 days I’d ever spent – partially thanks to the unseasonable warmth and sun; partly thanks to the occasion that brought me there, an invitation to the 20^th annual James Beard Awards as a finalist in the literature category for The Seasons on Henry’s Farm – and partially, maybe mostly, because of my age. I felt a certain anxious urgency as I turned 50 . . . life was thinning out . . . and so I wrote the book. But 50 comes, and goes, and 51, and soon 52, and life thickens out again, and seems full and right and I could relax into it in a way I never had before.

I invited Henry and Hiroko to come to the Awards ceremony, but, as Henry said, “May is a busy time.” And so I successfully prevailed upon my mom and dad, little sister Jill, and partner Joel to share the festivities with me.

The day began (where else?) at the Union Square Green Market. There we met up with John Gorzinsky, who Henry apprenticed with up in the Catskills just after he came back from Japan and before he moved back to Illinois to start Henry’s Farm. Though it had been about 18 years since we met, he was instantly recognizable – the only difference being a longer, grayer beard. After the market ended, John and Sue invited my Mom and Dad to have a drink at a nearby Irish pub, which had a lovely Irish music session up front.

The next day dawned with perfect blue sky and sun and we lazed it away at the 11th St. Café in the West Village, while Mom and Dad and Jill took Metro North up to New Haven to visit Teresa’s daughter Marina, who just graduated from Yale.

The photo is of Mom and Dad and Marina in front of the Forestry School where Aldo Leopold went. (Our Dad is the proud possessor of the lecture notes that his colleague Omar Rilett took when he studied under Leopold.)

That evening we got to the event space early, as a warm wind rose and the air began to smell of a change in the weather. The bar-tenders were still setting up when we entered, making their outrageous creations: a cucumber mint creole from Pegu Club mixologist Audrey Saunders, and a smoky black currant drink and a chamomile one – whose names I’ll have to look up.

We took sips of each while sitting on the sidelines, watching the guests enter. Here’s a picture of Marcus Samuelson and his date.

Soon the room was packed and so loud you couldn’t even talk, so we snuck in early and sat down to the five-pieces-of-stemware dinner.

What can I say? Yes, it was a beautiful meal, beautifully presented, but my family is a hard crowd to please . . . e.g. we started with a gorgeous little trio of 2 spears of green and one of white asparagus, tied with some sort of delicate seaweed string, on a bed of tarragon cream. But without the tarragon cream, the asparagus was tasteless.

Of course everyone else at the table was raving while we were mumbling, “Henry’s asparagus is a lot better” . . . .or “Dad’s beef short ribs are a lot better” .. . or . . .well, you get the idea. A little bit of chauvinism, yes, a little bit of southern Italian cosa nostra, yes . . . but in fact the food we get here, straight from Henry's fields, is better than anything in any restaurant, tarragon cream or no.

Co-hosts Andrew Zimmern, host of Bizarre Foods on The Travel Channel, and Kelly Choi, host of Top Chef Masters, emceed the 3.5-hour affair with smarmy show-biz banter. I must confess that my heart beat faster as the professional announcer intoned, “The finalists for the 2010 James Beard Award in Writing and Literature are . . .” and my book cover went up on the big screens around the room.

Luckily I didn’t have to go up to the podium that night because Save the Deli won . . . and because it wouldn’t have been right for one person to do so when the book, like Henry’s Farm itself, was a joint effort, and should have at least half a dozen authors listed. It would not be nearly what it is without the content and editorial help of my mom and dad, Henry and Hiroko, and my nieces Zoe and Gabby -- and Belgian chocolate from my little sister Jill. (Here we are toasting each other.) Thanks to all of them, and all of you, I left the event a winner.

Herb and Vegetable Starts in Evanston and Peoria Sat. May 15

2010-05-13T20:54:00.018-05:00

Last Saturday's windy, rainy, freezing market day culminated in a hard frost that evening. Teresa got her strawberries covered (with the cloth row covers pictured here, next to the blossoming chamomile) after returning home from the market, but even so, some of the leaves got singed and blossoms nipped. Nipped blossoms will fall off without forming a fruit, but the fruit that is already set will be fine, and new blossoms will come along . . . so we are still looking forward to a good strawberry harvest in a few weeks.

When you have six siblings it's easier to be two places at one time. So this Saturday, Teresa and Henry will be in Evanston while Terra will be selling Teresa's vegetable and herb starts (like the lavender starts below),as well as the hanging strawberry baskets and aronia jam, at the new market in the beautiful atrium of Methodist Hospital in Peoria.

This weekend promises to be sunny and warm, so come on over to Evanston or Peoria, whichever is closer, and check out all the starts -- see April post for the full listing of varieties. There's nothing as satisfying, or delicious, as growing your own food, so stock up on starts this Saturday.

First Evanston Market Saturday May 8

2010-05-06T23:19:00.006-05:00

Here's a sneak peak at some of the things coming up this week, starting with Teresa's beautiful strawberry baskets (to the left). These are beginning to bear sweet red berries . . . just in time for Mother's Day.

Teresa will also have her Aronia Jam (another good mother's day gift), as well as a wonderful array of herb and vegetable starts.

See photos below, and click on the April 2010 entry for the full list of starts. Make your wish list, and bring it to the market with you. There's nothing like growing your own -- whether you have a big yard or a tiny windowsill.

Also, at Teresa's Fruit and Herbs, there will be fresh-cut, aromatic tarragon, oregano, thyme, lovage, chives and mint -- perfect in salad dressings, egg dishes, soups, or with fish and meat. Can you identify the lovage and chives in the photos below?