Monthly Archives: November 2009

Recipes

I hope you’ve been enjoying the recipes we’ve been posting on this blog. Farming is just as much about cooking as it is about planting and weeding and harvesting. Good food comes from healthy soil, from land that has been carefully tended, from kitchens scented with good work and good friends, from folks who take joy in the making, and eating, and giving away of nourishment. I can’t imagine not being both a farmer and a cook; for me the two are interwoven, two parts of the same cycle.

Like farming, cooking is better when shared. There’s nothing I love more than giving away food; giving away recipes is almost as good. In winter, when I have more time to cook, but have to be more creative with the roots and hardy greens I can still get fresh,  I am always looking for new recipes, to give and to receive. So if you have a tried-and-true winter favorite, or threw together the best stir-fry you’ve ever had on the fly last night, or if you know the secret to making the best gingerbread (and are willing to share), send us an email at firstrootfarm@gmail.com and we’ll add it to our recipe archive. Likewise, if you’ve sick of cooking carrots and potatoes the same old way, you don’t know what to do with that turnip that’s been sitting in the back of the fridge for weeks, and that celeriac you bought because it looked sort of cool has you stumped, let us know, and I’ll gladly dig up some delicious recipes for unusual veggies. (And unusual recipes for familiar veggies.)

Winter cooking is different from summer cooking – it’s hardier and denser, full of big-pot soups and slow-cooked meat. It feels different to cook in the early dark, with the snow falling outside and the sky so sharp and cold. I love it just as much as I love the raucous bounty of summer, and I look forward to sharing my journey through good winter food with you, as the days get darker, the roots pile up in the pantry, and I scour the cookbooks for yet another way to cook butternut squash.

Laura

Equipment Update

Folks have been asking if our wishlist is up to date, and wondering if there are specific things we need. This list is up to date; we’ve edited it to reflect what we have already received – thank you!

I have spent a lot of time in the past few weeks putting together a budget for a flock of about 50 laying hens. We’re hoping to raise some chickens next year, and it looks like it will be financially viable, as well as lots of fun. Thanks to some generous donations of supplies from friends and neighbors, some leftover treasures we’ve found in the barn, and a lot of creativity, we’re going to be able to house our chickens without putting out a lot of capital. I’m excited about taking care of animals again, and the balancing rhythm that daily chores brings to the structure of our days. I’m also looking forward to fresh eggs from bug-eating, sun-loving, pasture-raised chickens. If you haven’t had farm-fresh eggs, you’ll be amazed by the difference in flavor, color and texture from standard supermarket eggs. They’re exceptional.

50 hens will lay a significant amount of eggs – and we’ll need somewhere to put them all! Egg cartons cost more than you’d think, but they are super easy to recycle. So, if you eat eggs, and don’t mind stashing the cartons away for us, we will gladly come and taken them off your hands! Just send us an email when the pile on your back steps is starting to annoy you, and we’ll come and take it away.

We’re also looking for a copy of QuickBooks so we can get started with an efficient, organised accounting system. If you or your office has an old copy you’re no longer using, do let us know.

Thanks again for all your enthusiasm and support – we can’t wait for next summer!

Laura

Late November Work

Our friend and fellow Farm School graduate Will came to visit this weekend, giving us the perfect excuse to host an impromptu work day at the farm. After a breakfast of homemade bread, jam, applesauce, and Maggie’s Farm honey, a few other friends arrived at our house, and we all headed over to the farm. The day was perfect – a little warm, maybe, for late November – but gorgeous and sunny, with the sharp smell of fall hanging in the air.

We spent the morning clearing brush from our western hedgerow. An old stone wall runs the entire length of the field, separating it from the woods. Up till now, it has been hidden by a thick hedge of goldenrod, tall grasses, and other brambles After a morning’s work, this beautiful reminder of the agricultural history of our plot of land is visible to all.

Keeping your hedgerows clean isn’t only a matter of aesthetics. Fields are destined to be reclaimed by the forest – if you don’t maintain your field edges, first the raspberries and goldenrod creep in, then the small shrubs and little trees, and before you know it, you’ve lost ten feet of good agricultural land to brush. It is amazing how quickly unused fields will revert back to forest. It is a good practice to walk your hedgerows each year, cutting back brush and branches, keeping the forest at bay.

This particular hedgerow was thick with goldenrod, a weed that will easily (and certainly already has) scatter its seeds into our field. By cutting back the brush, we reduce the number of weed seeds blowing onto our field (minutely). In addition, clean hedgerows let in more light. Even though we didn’t take down any trees, the land already feels different – sunnier, more open. There’s a sense of space that wasn’t there before.

The five of us attacked the hedgerow with hands, loppers, knives, a saw, and a scythe – all tools we’ve collected from friends and neighbors. As we worked, we shed layers in the warm fall sun, the mess of brush along the hedgerow shrunk, and the neat piles of brush we made in the field grew.

Clearing away brambles with loppers.

Working on the stand of goldenrod along the road.

Will in the midst of a thicket of briars.

Hard at work.

It was a lovely morning, and a satisfying one. Now that the farming season is over, and I’m not out on the land every single day, I sometimes forget how delightful and fulfilling it is to spend a morning working hard. We left eight or so huge piles of brush to collect later. We’ll either chop ‘em and add them to our compost, or toss them into the woods to slowly decompose. We still have lots of work to do this fall, and I’m looking forward to every moment of it. There is nothing quite as gratifying as a couple of hours on the land, muscles well-used, a group of good folks, and a hearty, joyful meal afterwards. Thanks so much to Will, Meg, and Kael for their hard work, good company, enthusiasm, and support.

Laura

Winter Compost

I spent a lovely afternoon on the farm yesterday making our winter compost pile. Compost is at the heart of organic farming – without it, it is virtually impossible to grow vigorous, healthy, delicious vegetables. We’re hoping to get a composting system going next spring so that we can feed our fields with own recycled organic matter (vegetable scraps, grass clippings, weeds, cow and chicken bedding, kitchen scraps, etc). a great way to quickly produce high-quality, pathogen and weed seed-free compost is to make ‘hot’ piles – ones that reach a temperature of up to 140 degrees F. The community of earthworms and microorganisms (mostly bacteria) that break down organic matter is more diverse at higher temperatures – there is a whole slew of thermophilic bacteria that thrive when piles get hot. Maintaining hot piles, however, requires some work.

1. The pile must be built all at once. Unlike cool composting (which is what our winter compost pile is), you cannot add to your hot compost pile every day. It won’t ever reach the desired temperature.

2. Hot piles work best at a minimum size of 3 feet wide x 3 feet long x 3 feet tall. At this size, the pile has enough mass to heat up, and is still small enough for adequate air circulation.

3. You have to turn the pile. While turning is an important part of making any kind of compost, it is especially important when making hot compost. (If you simply layer leaves, kitchen scraps and other organic matter in your backyard and forget about it, though, it will, eventually, decompose.)

I’m pretty excited about hot composting, and looking forward to doing some of it next summer, when we have a whole lot of organic matter around the farm. For now, since we don’t have a whole lot of organic matter, and we mostly just want a place to compost our kitchen scraps, the cool pile that I started yesterday will work just fine. Cool piles are nice because they require very little maintenance, and you can add a little bit to them every day without worrying about the overall mass of the pile.

My first step was to pick a site for the new pile. I chose an out-of-the way spot on the edge of the woods:

Next, I raked away all the leaves from the area. One important aspect of composting is the carbon-to-nitrogen ration. A good rule of thumb is 30:1 carbon-to-nitrogen. Matierals high in nitrogen, or “green” materials, such as manure, kitchen scraps, and fresh grass clippings, should be mixed with carbonaceous, or “brown” materials, such as dry weeds, straw, woodchips, and leaves. As we add our kitchen scraps to this pile over the winter, we’ll cover each addition with a generous helping of leaves, which will keep our C:N ratio balanced, prevent the pile from becoming smelly, and deter pests.

With the site prepared and ready to go, I hauled over some old hay bales to make two side-walls for the pile. This will help us keep the pile from expanding. I decided not to actually build a structure for the pile, but having a defined area will keep it neat over the winter.

I layered the bottom with some fibrous brush, to provide air-flow at the bottom of the pile and to act as the first carbonaceous layer:

The next layer: kitchen scraps. We’d been dumping all our kitchen scraps in a haphazard pile on the farm. With a garden fork, I turned and mixed this clumpy pile, breaking up any matted, rotten vegetable matter. I then redistrubred the scraps over the new pile. You might notice a lot of big pieces – corn cubs, Brussels sprouts stalks, even a whole cabbage – in the mix. This is not a great idea. In general, the smaller the scraps you put into the pile, the better they’ll decompose.

On top of the wet layer of kitchen scraps, I covered the pile with a 3″ layer of leaves. The pile practically camouflages itself!

With the basic structure done, this pile is ready to injest all of our winter kitchen scraps. It won’t make the most beautiful compost in the world, and it will take a long time (at least a year, maybe more), but it is a good start. We’ll add to it all winter long, and through the spring. When it gets big enough – about 3 feet tall or so – we’ll cover it with some straw, call it finished, and leave it alone for the earthworms and bactiera to work their mircales.

Happy composting!

Laura