Farm Update
I just had to stop and take a picture of these Easter Egg Radishes as we were setting up for the Mt. Pleasant drop-off on Tuesday. Look at those colors! :-) |
What to Expect in your Share this Week
Lettuce, kale, and rainbow chard are still growing well in one of the coldframes. |
Carrots or Brussels sprouts
Potatoes or sweet potatoes
Acorn squash or butternut squash
Spinach or lettuce
Celery root or large onion
Bok choy, cabbage, or bag of shallots
Kale, beets, or radishes
Potatoes or sweet potatoes
Acorn squash or butternut squash
Spinach or lettuce
Celery root or large onion
Bok choy, cabbage, or bag of shallots
Kale, beets, or radishes
And if you’re having your share delivered or picking up in Lansing, Okemos, or the Midand hospital, here are your options. If you have a half share, choose either share A or share B, and if you have a full share, you get to choose two.
Share A: Share B:
Carrots Brussels sprouts
Sweet potatoes Potatoes
Butternut squash Acorn squash
Spinach Spinach
Large onion Celery root
Cabbage Bok choy
Kale Beets
Sweet potatoes Potatoes
Butternut squash Acorn squash
Spinach Spinach
Large onion Celery root
Cabbage Bok choy
Kale Beets
Fall Reflections: Nothing New Under the Sun
Inevitably every fall, as soon as the air becomes chilled
and the leaves start to turn from green to brilliant red and yellow, I get a
little sentimental. There is something
about this time of year and the preparations for the long winter ahead that
make me think about the generations of people before me, doing these same
actions, canning applesauce and putting extra blankets on the beds, and how no
matter how humanity progresses some things never change. Bringing in the final harvests of the year
and putting away the abundance of the season to last through the cold winter
always reminds me that there is nothing new under the sun. (Except of course,
that the advent of grocery stores with shipped-in food means that the seasonal
frenzy of canning is more of a hobby than a necessity, which itself is
absolutely unprecedented in most of human history.)
I was reflecting on that yesterday as I canned applesauce. While our apple trees did really poorly this
year due to a late frost in the spring (and, truth be told, to the fact that
trees as old as ours are a little bit unreliable and not well-suited to organic
production), a friend of ours had an abundance of apples and gave us several
bushels. As often happens, after a few
weeks of sitting at room temperature, they started to get a little wrinkly,
which pretty much means it’s time to make applesauce. Once they lose that delicious crunch, no one
wants to eat them plain anymore, and you have to doctor them up a bit. So I was making applesauce yesterday, and I
was thinking about my grandma Kitty. She
passed away a week and a half ago after a long downward health spiral, but
while she was healthy, she canned applesauce every year. When my mom and my aunts were preparing her
home to be sold after she went into a nursing home a few months ago, everyone
was going through and picking out things from around the house that they especially
wanted, and my mom pulled out grandma’s old applesauce sieve for me. Now, I’m not a super sentimental person in
general, and I’m kind of a minimalist too, so when my mom gave that to me, I
was dubious about how much I would actually use it. After all, I already had a perfectly good
blender, so why clutter up my house with two tools that do the same job? But I pulled it out a few weeks ago when I
made my first batch of applesauce of the season, and it turns out that my mom
was totally right. That applesauce had
the best texture of any I had ever made, and although it looks like kind of a
hassle to use, it was actually really easy.
There was also something really comforting about using only a simple
tool and my own arm power to make applesauce (no electrical outlets required),
and I was hooked.
Then Grandma passed away, and making my second batch of
applesauce yesterday, using the same tool that she had used for decades to
preserve the abundance of apples for the winter took on a whole new
meaning. Suddenly I wasn’t just making
applesauce. I was connecting. Not only with the memory of my grandma, but
with generations of people who have used similar tools at this time of year for
the exact same reason. And I realized
that that connection is what makes the type of farming we do different. In an age where most people not only don’t
know what farm their food came from (or what country, for that matter), they don’t
even really know their neighbors or the people they pass every day as they go
about their lives. So I love that
by growing food for local people we actually get to see from week to week, we’re
helping to re-establish that sense of connection with the food we eat, our own
native place, our neighbors, and the communities we live in. And that is worth preserving, in the same way
that the apple harvest is worth preserving even though I could get applesauce
at the store. Because it has quality and
soul in a time when so much of what we consume doesn’t. So let time march on. But next October, you’ll find me right here
making applesauce with my old hand tool, probably thinking these same thoughts
again. Nothing new under the sun. J
Recipes
I can almost hear you reading through the list of what will be in the shares next week and saying, "Okay, what the heck is celery root?" Celery root (also called celeriac), is a really weird-looking, really wonderful root vegetable with a nice celery flavor. Traditionally, it was one of those winter storage vegetables that people would be able to keep through the winter in the pre-refrigeration days, but you don't see it very much anymore. It's great in soups and stews, and here are also 10 (Yes, 10) Things to do With Celery Root from Six Burner Sue. These are some fantastic recipe ideas for a veggie that is probably unfamiliar to most modern cooks, but that you will be so glad you tried!
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