2011 CSA Week 16

Last year I noticed that on several occasions I put on rain pants before it began to rain and then proceeded to work comfortably in whatever inclement conditions ensued. This was a notable improvement of my previous tendency to wait until I was in the midst of a rainstorm to acknowledge the weather and don protective clothing, and I decided my new-found attention to preventative measures was a sign of maturity. And I was proud to count this rudimentary example of common sense among my attributes until earlier this season, when I realized during one of the heavy rainfalls of August that without my noticing my raincoat and rain pants had grown so old and permeable that they were best considered decorative rather than functional, and I was wearing them to no effect except an exacerbation of my wet condition. Intending to trick myself into acquiring a new rain outfit that would actually repel rain, I threw out the old set and then promptly undermined my claims of common sense and self-reliance by failing to replace it before our region was beset by 1. A hurricane, and 2. The extended aftermath of a tropical storm. If I have been unduly wet in recent weeks, and a little cold, it's my own fault.

Personal comfort aside, this August was one of the wettest on record, and September has scarcely been drier. By last Thursday our fields were saturated so that as the rain fell it pooled and then diffused itself in fast-flowing rivulets across many of our planting beds. We picked peppers that were underwater, and we stood in water well above our ankles to harvest cherry tomatoes. To see our plants submerged was a strange, disheartening experience, tempered only by the soggy awareness that there was not a thing we could do about it. It felt like the culmination of a waterlogged season, the point at which our summer of work might be fully undone. Since then we have had a few dry days during which to assess the state of our fields, and the situation does not feel as bleak as when the rain was pummeling the soil and the water was rising around our feet. Many of our planting beds are still choked with water, and the lifespan of the crops in those beds will likely be shortened, but our ability to produce food on the farm as a whole is not compromised. Each season is different, and the overabundance of water is part of this year's unique set of challenges. And if we're foolish enough to meet those challenges without a raincoat, we're not so foolish as to be ungrateful for what we've been spared: In a season in which farms throughout the northeast have been subject to flood damage far worse than our own, we consider ourselves lucky to accept the rain as it falls, to learn from its excess, and to work successfully in spite of it.

The share this week:

Lettuce

Red Russian Kale

Red or Chioggia Beets

Tomatoes

Sweet Peppers

Eggplant

Edamame

Parsley

Red Onions

Husk Cherries or Green Beans

Notes about the food:

* Kale is among the crops that have thrived in the cool, wet conditions, and after a few weeks of summertime absence from our harvest schedule, we're happy to have it back. Its success during trying times in our fields is indicative of the give-and-take of each season. 2010 was hot and dry well into the autumn, conditions that prolonged the life of our tomato plants and other heat-loving crops but were deleterious to the kale and cabbage and other cool weather crops that we plant for harvest in the spring and then again in the fall. Brassicas were almost fully absent from the share at this time last season, but those plants that were unable to produce in the extended summer of 2010 have grown vigorously in the reduced temperatures and increased rainfall of this season, and we have reason to be enthusiastic about the kale, broccoli, and the rest, even as the tomatoes--so strong at this time one year ago-- continue to weaken. One is coming and the other going, so for now, two recipes that include kale and cherry tomatoes during this week of their overlap:

Lentil, Kale, and Cherry Tomato Salad

1/2 cup brown lentils

1/2 cup green lentils

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 teaspoon red chili flakes

1/2 pint cherry tomatoes, halved

1 bunch kale, roughly chopped

2 tablespoons fresh oregano

1 lemon, juiced

8 slices whole grain bread

1 clove garlic, halved

butter, as needed

salt to taste

Bring a large pot of unsalted water to a boil with the lentils. Reduce heat to simmer and cook until tender, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil, red chili flakes, and tomatoes in a small saucepan over medium heat. Continue to cook until tomatoes begin to soften, then set aside.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Add the kale and cook until wilted and a vivid dark green. Drain and rinse under cold water.

Drain the olive oil from the tomatoes into bowl or small jar. Add the oregano, lemon juice, and a generous pinch of coarse salt. Whisk with a fork until combined. Adjust the acidity and seasoning if necessary.

Toast the pieces of bread and, while still warm, brush with cut side of the garlic clove and spread with butter.

To serve, drain the lentils, toss with the prepared dressing, tomatoes, and kale and season to taste with salt. Arrange a slice of toast on each plate and spoon a generous portion over top. Sprinkle with a coarse finishing salt if desired.

Raw Kale Salad with Avocado, Cherry Tomato, Onion, and Toasted Walnuts

2 cups kale, torn into bite-sized chunks

1/2 of a small avocado, cubed

10 cherry tomatoes, halved

1 tablespoon toasted walnut pieces

1 tablespoon sliced red onion

1/4 of a fresh lemon

1 tablespoon olive oil

salt

Place the torn kale in a mixing bowl, pour in the olive oil, and squeeze the juice from the lemon over the leaves. Sprinkle with salt and mix thoroughly.

Toss in cherry tomatoes, avocado, and toasted walnuts, and continue to toss until well mixed. Add salt to taste.

* This is the final week for edamame. You'll notice that some of the leaves on the plants have died back, and that the pods have darkened. These changes in appearance are normal as the plant ages, but you'll find the soybeans themselves unchanged. As I said before, I rarely eat these as anything other than a stand-alone snack, but they are also easy to incorporate as part of a more elaborate presentation:

Roasted Corn and Edamame Salad

2 ears fresh corn, unhusked, or 1 1/4 cups cooked corn kernels

1/2 cup edamame, steamed and shelled

1/4 cup chopped red onion

1/4 cup small-diced red bell pepper

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh cilantro

1 tablespoon light mayonnaise

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoons finely chopped or grated ginger

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Soak fresh corn in cold water about 30 minutes. Heat grill on high. Grill corn in husk, 10 to 15 minutes, turning once. Let cool. Remove husks. Cut corn from cob into a bowl; combine with remaining ingredients. Cover and chill in refrigerator until ready to serve.

* I rarely post about food that is not in the current week's share, but it is possible that you have been wondering how I have spent my free time lately, and the answer involves basil. Whether basil is in the share again this season is dependent on how the final planting recovers from being forced to grow in a lot of mud, but we're optimistic. Until then, if you have some basil at hand, and some free time, I recommend you revisit the cookie recipe from week 9. When I first posted the recipe I hadn't made it. Now, it is basically how I spend my weekends.

2011 CSA Week 14

We went to sleep on Saturday night expecting a hurricane and we woke Sunday morning to a tropical storm. Our scant meteorological training doesn't allow us to parse the difference, but through the window it had the appearance of nothing more than a very blustery day, and we felt lucky that our worst expectations were not met. We spent a pleasant day indoors and at night I enjoyed using a headlamp to navigate my room. And this morning, although my bike ride to the farm was significantly re-routed by fallen trees, the air was clear and lovely, blown clean by the weather, and we returned to a farm that showed few effects of the tumult. We made note of the standing water in many of the fields, we replanted some broccoli and cauliflower plants that had been uprooted and laid on their sides, and we then continued with work as we would on any Monday. The only casualty has been my ability to include pictures alongside what is written here, but I'll add them as soon as my computer access is no longer limited by power outages. It may take a few days, but check back if you want to see onions drying in the greenhouse, or what a few quarts of cherry tomatoes look like close-up. We hope that you and your family weathered the day safely, and that you have experienced no greater storm-related inconvenience than this small delay.

The share this week:

Red Beets
Carrots or Parsnips
Tomatoes
Sweet Peppers
Hot Peppers
Eggplant
Edamame
Italian Basil
Storage Onions
Sweet Corn

Notes about the food:

* For a long time I didn't enjoy working with tomato plants. They are fragile and susceptible to disease and they require extensive support in order to remain upright, and I felt that maintaining a large crop of them was picky, delicate work fraught with potential failure. I still think those things are true, but as I've spent more time working with tomatoes my confidence has improved, and as I become less reluctant to involve myself with the things I have become increasingly convinced that they are always worth the effort.

Our tomato plants were certainly battered by yesterday's weather, but despite my ongoing concerns about their fragility they fared better than we might have expected. Which is to say, they are still alive. Their stems were not snapped in the wind, and their fruit was not blown to the ground. They were not helped, though, by the rain: The greatest current threat to their longevity is the consistent precipitation that has kept their soil wet. In it, they show signs of a suffering that is probably irreversible, and our best hope is that it will be prolonged by as many warm and dry days as we can get. Until they succumb, we hope that you'll enjoy the continuing abundance of tomatoes, and consider each week that does not bring their complete demise a success.

Farro Pasta with Tomato Vinaigrette

2 garlic cloves, peeled
salt
2 1/2 teaspoons red-wine vinegar
1 1/2 pounds ripe tomatoes (heirlooms, Roma or cherry)
1/2 cup torn basil leaves
1 pound farro or whole-wheat tagliatelle or spaghetti
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra as needed

Pound garlic, with a pinch of salt, into smooth paste with mortar and pestle. Stir in vinegar.

Core tomatoes and cut in 1/2-inch dice. If using cherry tomatoes, remove stems and quarter, or halve if small. In a large bowl, toss tomatoes with vinegar-garlic mixture and half the basil. Cover and marinate 15-20 minutes.

Meanwhile bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook until al dente, about 7-10 minutes. Reserve 1 cup cooking liquid and then drain well.

Add oil to tomatoes, and season to taste with salt. Toss pasta with tomato vinaigrette. Stretch sauce with a few tablespoons reserved cooking liquid until sauce turns juicy and coats the noodles. Taste and, if desired, add salt and an extra splash of oil or vinegar. Toss in remaining basil leaves. Serve warm or at room temperature.

* That recipe was printed in The Wall Street Journal, the Sunday food section of which I continue to stumble across and then cite on this website. This edition was a particularly fortuitous section of newspaper to find on the ground because it included an article about basil, and we have fielded a lot of questions recently about how to best store basil. I'll quote the article on that point, and I'll transcribe one of the several recipes it provides:

"Basil is happiest when it's treated like a delicate hothouse flower. As soon as you get your bunch home, trim about 1/2 inch off the stems, put the basil in a glass of cold water and put a plastic bag over the setup. Leaving plenty of air around the basil leaves, tie the bag closed around the glass with twine or a rubber band and refrigerate; change the water daily. Encased in it's greenhouse, really fresh basil will keep for five days or more. Alternatively, you can wrap the trimmed stems in a wet paper towel and store the basil in a sealed plastic bag in the refrigerator. For long-term storage, make a thick puree of basil and olive oil and freeze the almost-pesto in an ice-cube tray. When the basil is solid, pop the cubes and seal them in airtight plastic bags."

Basil, Mozzarella and Plum Salad

Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Drop in 1/3 cup packed basil leaves, cook for 30 seconds, then drain and run under cold water to cool. Squeeze as much water as possible from the leaves, then chop finely. Put basil and 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil in food processor, add pinch of salt and process until well blended. Let rest 15 minutes, then pour through a fine-mesh strainer. Discard the solids and reserve the oil.

Toss 2 handfuls mixed salad greens with 1 tablespoon basil oil, salt and pepper, and divide among 4 plates. Slice 8 basil leaves and toss with 1/2 pound fresh mozzarella, cubed, 2 black plums, pitted and cubed, 1/2 jalapeno pepper, finely chopped, the juice of 1/2 lime and 2 tablespoons of the basil oil. (Refrigerate remaining oil for another use.) Season to taste with salt, pepper, and lime juice and spoon equal amounts of the mozzarella mixture over the greens.

* Edamame are green soybeans, and you'll receive them on the plant. To prepare, simply remove the pods from the stem and steam them until they are dark green, 10-20 minutes. For a snack or hors d'oeuvre season the pods with salt and fresh lemon juice and suck the beans from the pods directly into your mouth. (They are also good seasoned with soy sauce.) To incorporate as part of another dish, simply squeeze the beans from the pod once they are steamed.

* You'll certainly hear more from us about parsnips, so for now I'll mention them only in the context of a recipe that a CSA member recently shared. The timing is good, because this salad pairs them with beets, also in today's share:

Shredded Parsnip and Beet Salad in Pineapple Vinaigrette

For the pineapple dressing, put in the blender:

1 15 oz can of pineapple chunks, or 2 cups pineapple juice
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 cup grapeseed or olive oil
2 tablespoons maple syrup or agave or honey
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt

For the salad:

1 pound beets peeled and shredded (best shredded in a food processor)
1 pound parsnips peeled and shredded (best shredded in a food processor)
1/2 cup coarsely chopped mint

Mix the salad and dressing with tongs. Refrigerate 30 minutes before serving.

2011 CSA Week 9

Heat wave! By last Friday, when the temperature topped 100 degrees, the farm was an arid landscape. Whirlwinds of dust moved across the paths between our fields, and we felt seared by the afternoon glare. We had recently made the difficult decision to transplant our entire fall brassica crop from the greenhouse to the fields--we knew temperatures were going to rise, and rain was not forecast, but the plants had outgrown their cell trays and were suffering from the constriction. We risked the imminent weather and planted them into dry soil and then watched on Thursday and Friday as they wilted in the heat. We are not equipped to water our fields, but we are farming a piece of land that has a high water table and is generally wet enough that in normal conditions our crops find the water they need. In this case, the crops were too newly transplanted to have fully established themselves before the heat struck, and while our other plants weathered the heat well, the new brassicas suffered unduly. And we suffered to see them: The sight of a full block of young plants prostrate beneath an unrelenting sun is painfully evocative of a genuine thirst most of us have never known, and by mid-day Friday Joshua had made the decision to get water to the plants by whatever elaborate series of contrivances necessary. Arduous work on a hot day, but with a semi-functional pump, a nearly-dry well, and a craftily modified tractor attachment, plants were watered in the field for the first time since we have been at Dover Farm.

And the next morning? We woke to the improbable sight of consistent, fully un-forecast rain. And this evening? Temperatures barely higher than seventy and a gentle rain better suited to springtime than late July. So easily can the universe make our worry unnecessary and our work redundant, but we are once again grateful it has done so and we remain prepared for the day it does not. The fall brassicas--the cabbage, the cauliflower, the broccoli, the kale and the rest--are upright, refreshed and recovered. And we feel the same way--slightly cooked, but perhaps stronger for the temporary discomfort.

The share this week:

Lettuce

Green Curly Kale

Rainbow Chard

Chioggia Beets

Carrots

Summer Squash / Zucchini

Cucumbers

Genovese Basil

Parsley

Torpedo Onions

You-Pick Raspberries

Notes about the food:

* We have struggled to grow carrots this year. They are one of the few crops we don't start from seed in the greenhouse (their roots are sensitive when young, and the seedlings would not survive the transplant shock were we to uproot them from cell trays and re-plant them outdoors), and because we sow them directly into our outdoor planting beds they present us with several specific challenges. They require a regular input of water prior to germination--in the greenhouse we water seeds once or twice daily to sustain a consistent level of moisture, but we don't water our fields. This means that once we sow the carrots we are reliant on rainfall to provide the water the seeds require to germinate, and this year we have had either too much or too little: We have sowed carrots in advance of rain that when it materialized was so pummeling that those seeds not washed away were impeded by the soil compaction formed in its aftermath, and we have sowed carrots in advance of rain that was expected but never arrived, so the seeds remained dry. In both cases germination was inconsistent.

Even with appropriate inputs of water, carrots germinate slowly, and those sown into a clean planting bed take longer to appear than most weeds. By the time we see the first sign of carrot greens, they are in the midst of young, faster-growing plants that we did not sow, and there is nothing for us to do but carefully pull the weeds by hand while trying not to disturb the carrots (remember--they are sensitive when young, and won't tolerate disruption in their root zone). It's one of the pickiest, most labor-intensive tasks we perform on the farm. To our work-share CSA members and other volunteers who have crouched with us on hot days and helped excavate row upon row of the things, these might be the most delicious, hard-won vegetables you eat all year. To everyone else they might seem like ordinary carrots, possibly on the small side. In either case we are happy to finally have any carrots at all, and we continue to sow seed and tweak our methods in pursuit of a more perfect carrot crop. From Still Life With Menu:

Cabbage, Carrots, and Onions with Sesame

6 tablespoons sesame seeds

3/4 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons sesame oil

2 medium-sized onions

1 large or 2 medium-sized carrots, thinly sliced

1 small head green cabbage, coarsely chopped (6 to 8 cups)

Comine the sesame seeds and salt in a blender, or in a spice grinder or a clean electric coffee grinder. Grind until they achieve the consistency of coarse meal. (This is called gomasio or sesame salt.) Set aside.

Heat a medium-sized wok or a large deep skillet. Add the sesame oil and the onions. Stir-fry over medium-high heat for several minutes. Add about a tablespoon of the gomasio. Keep stir-frying until the onions are soft and translucent (5 to 8 minutes).

Add the carrots and cabbage, and sprinkle in about half the remaining gomasio. Keep stir-frying until everything is tender (another 10 to 15 minutes). Sprinkle in the remaining gomasio, and serve.

* Of the four types of basil we grow, we consider three--cinnamon, lemon, and Thai--to be specialty varieties. Each of those is imbued with a subtle variation of flavor that differentiates them from one another and from the more common large-leaf Italian variety that we offer this week. In most of our cuisine, this basil is the standard, and its scent and taste are immediately evocative of summer. Try it with summer squash in this soup from Food & Wine:

Summer Squash Soup with Basil

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

3 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and coarsely chopped

1 garlic clove, minced

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper

2 pounds summer squash or zucchini

1 large baking potato, quartered lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise

4 cups vegetable stock or low-sodium broth

1/4 cup shredded basil

salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the olive oil in a large soup pot. Add the onion and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, about 6 minutes. Increase the heat to moderately high. Add the tomatoes, garlic, and crushed red pepper and cook, stirring, until the tomatoes begin to break down, about 5 minutes. Add the potato and squash and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Stir in the vegetable stock and bring to a boil. Add the basil and season with salt and pepper. Cover and cook over low heat until the vegetables are tender, about 25 minutes. Serve with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

* Finally, cookies. Possibly the only food for which I have a greater affection than vegetables. A CSA member has shared a recipe that will help us take baby steps (basil is more of an herb than a vegetable, right?) toward combining those interests:

Cinnamon Basil & Lime Icebox Cookies

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

1/4 cup flax seed, ground

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 1/3 cups butter, softened

2 cups granulated sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 teaspoons nutmeg, ground

2 tablespoons grated lime zest

6 tablespoons fresh cinnamon basil leaves, chopped

2 cups pecans, chopped

parchment or wax paper for wrapping dough

Combine flours, flax seed, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Mix and set the mixture aside.

Place the butter in a different bowl and beat until fluffy. Add sugar and eggs; beat the mixture until it becomes light and fluffy. Add vanilla, nutmeg, lime zest, cinnamon basil; blend. Take a measuring cup, scoop a cup at a time from the flour mixture and add it to the butter and blend. Add the nuts and stir gently.

Once dough is mixed, remove from the bowl onto a piece of parchment paper that has been dusted with flour. Shape the dough into a log shape and then wrap it completely with the parchment paper. Put in refrigerator overnight until the mixture gets hardened so that you can slice the dough. Take the dough that was refrigerated overnight and using a serrated knife cut the dough into 1/4-inch to 1/2-inch slices. Arrange the cookies on a cookie sheet.

Bake at 375 for about 10 to 12 minutes until the cookies become golden brown. Place on rack to cool.

CSA Week 7

I was once told by a friend with whom I was in regular written correspondence that I wrote beautiful letters, but that they were only about the weather. The second half of that claim was likely true: I have been working in the outdoors for many years, and when a person spends the majority of their time under the sky it is easy to become fixated on all things atmospheric. As farmers, we are especially attuned to fluctuations of temperature and precipitation not only because they affect the success of our work, but because, like our crops, we live in the weather as it occurs, and we work in all of it. There is nothing as immediate as the heat of a hot day, and it is a wiser person than myself who can exist in that stifling immediacy and be mindful of the fact that as oppressive as it is on a given day, it is fleeting compared to the span of season. That person would probably write of something other than the weather, but I'm a simple thing: I write what's on mind, and what's on my mind is what I feel on my skin, and what I feel on my skin is what's in the air. All of which is a way of acknowledging the fact that I always seem to start these blog entires with a paragraph about the weather. Sorry. This week's entry: It is still hot but not as hot as last week, and we appreciated the heavy rains on Saturday. It is possible, if we choose to be fully optimistic, that the extreme heat tempered by regular infusions of water will be very good for many of our crops.

Here's what is in the share this week:

Lettuce

Kale, green curly

Swiss Chard

Turnips, hakurei

Carrots, bolero

Onions, ailsa craig

Summer Squash

Zucchini

Basil, genovese

Parsley

Raspberries, pick your own

Notes about the food:

*Our soil had become very dry prior to Saturday's rain, and when the rain fell, it fell fast and heavy. In such dry conditions it takes time for the water to infiltrate the surface of the soil; before the soil is saturated the pummeling rain splashes against the dry ground, and soil is thrown by the splashing water. As a result, some of our crops are spackled with dirt following such a rain. We wash everything we harvest before arranging it at the distribution stand, so this isn't something you'll notice except on the occasional item that we don't wash. Among the items harvested this week, we wash neither the summer squash nor the basil. These two plants don't store well after becoming wet, so once they are cut we keep them dry even though they are slightly gritty. We recommend that you store them as they are, and wash them just prior to use. Maybe you'll use the basil to make pesto:

4 cups fresh basil leaves

1/2 cup olive oil

1/3 cup pine nuts

2 garlic cloves

1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan

1 tsp coarse kosher salt

Combine first four ingredients in blender. Blend until paste forms, stopping often to push down basil. Add cheese and salt; blend until smooth.

I copied the recipe above from epicurious; you can use it as a guideline, but I think pesto is something that invites improvisation. Last night I made some without cheese, and I substituted sunflower seeds for pine nuts.

*I suspect the carrots need no introduction, but I should mention that their presence in this week's share is a small triumph for the farmers. We struggled early in the season to get carrots to germinate, and for a while, as we learned our way around the soil on this piece of land, we were afraid that we'd never grow any. Now it looks like we might have ample carrots for some time.

*Please don't relegate the parsley to garnish status; it deserves more consideration than the space it usually allotted as some kind of plate-filler next to a sandwich or hamburger. Treat it like what it is: a dark green, leafy vegetable, flavorful and extremely nutritious. Try it with the carrots in this Moroccan Raw Carrot Salad, also from epicurious:

1 pound carrots, coarsely grated

1/4 cup olive oil

3 to 4 tbsp fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

2 to 4 cloves garlic, minced

1 tsp ground cumin

1 tsp sweet paprika

pinch of salt

1/4 to 1/2 tsp cayenne (optional)

In a large bowl, mix together all ingredients. Cover and let marinate in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours or up to 2 days to let the flavors meld and permeate the carrots. Serve chilled or at room temperature.