The end has been coming for a long time, and now it is finally upon us.Many of the leaves have already fallen from the trees to drift down the creek or gather in the furrows in the fields.The shorter days limit our work in the field, unless we are willing to use headlights.Our skin dries in the north wind, the fire crackles, and brilliant reds and yellows glow like embers of a dying fire.A sense of urgency surrounds us.
The deepening of the fall encourages reflection in a world spinning madly out of control.In a way more intense than before, we notice the changing of the seasons, the certainty of darkness and of light.The sweetness of carrots rings clearly on the tongue.We feel the gathering-in of the soil at some primitive level, the rich, earthy smell wafting through the evening air.The muffled rustle of leaves contrasts the honking of southward-bound geese.We relish one last tomato. And maybe, if we glance in the right direction at just the right moment, we’ll notice the setting sun shining above a valley floor cast in shadow, illuminating a dying elm on the hillside.Then it’s gone.The fleeting beauty unique to this season reminds us of the fragility of everything we have worked so hard to build.
As with so many things, the end of the season is predictable and expected from the very start.We plant with the end of the season in mind, placing the peas in the ideal spot to precede a last crop of salad, and setting out the Brussels sprouts where they won’t hinder the harvest of quicker crops.At times we look forward to the season’s end, especially under an intense July heat wave.And whenever the weather the weather is cooler than normal, we anticipate the hearty sweetness of kale, the texture of winter squash, and the glow of a fire on a cold night.
The falling of leaves foretells the bleak landscape of winter that often seems to go on without end through both time and space, but it is not without faith in the spring to come.The spinach for harvest next spring will wait patiently under the snow cover.The garlic that we will plant next week will hear whispers of spring lying just around the corner, and know that life and the rebirth of the world is never far from the death and destruction of the fall, the darkness of the winter.
Weather: We’ve had two weeks – or is it four? – of cold, grey weather. Reminds me of growing up in Seattle, except that I wasn’t trying to get a bunch of carrots and beets out of the field while I was in high school. We’ve had some beautiful sunrises, and when the sun does break through, it’s glorious. I think a week ago Wednesday was maybe the most beautiful day I have ever seen on the farm, the sun shining brightly, the autumn air crisp but not freezing, the colors in the trees just too beautiful for words. Two juvenile bald eagles tussled over something above the creek in the late afternoon. We had a hard, hard freeze on Saturday night last weekend, harder than I’ve ever seen this early in October.
What We Did: We’ve got harvest running at full tilt right now. We pulled the storage cabbages and Chinese cabbages out of the field last week, just ahead of the freeze, and started our roots harvest in earnest on Wednesday with beets, winter radishes, and carrots.
Comings and Goings: On Monday and Tuesday last week, Chris traveled to Columbus, Ohio, to testify at a USDA hearing about the National Leafy Greens Marketing Agreement. The proposal would provide government oversight of a marketing label to be awarded to handlers who comply with as-yet unspecified food safety “metrics.” A similar agreement in California has had devastating environmental effects, without a measurable increase in food safety since it was initiated in 2007; the same players are involved in the national proposal, which seems likely to close market doors to small farmer-handlers like Rock Spring Farm. If you are feeling wonk-ish, you can read Chris’ testimony here: http://www.nationalorganiccoalition.org/testimony.html
In the same general grouping as endive and radicchio, broad-leaved Escarole has a pleasantly bitter flavor that has been exceptionally fine this fall. This crop came in a little late for us this fall, so we harvested the baby heads. I especially enjoy it in salads with a strong vinaigrette. Lightly cooking it heightens the sweetness and takes the edge off, if you prefer it that way; the result is quite nutty and full-flavored.
Sautéed Escarole
1 head escarole
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 tsp dried hot red pepper flakes
1 tsp anchovy paste
Separate the leaves of the escarole, and slice into coarse ribbons. Heat the oil in wide skillet over medium-high heat until just before smoking, then add the escarole, pepper flakes, and anchovy paste. Reduce heat after an initial sear to moderate, and cook, stirring occasionally until the escarole is tender and any liquid is evaporated, about 15 minutes.
Flowering Kale, with its bright pink leaves, is most commonly found as an ornamental plant outside of the dentist’s office; the variety we grow makes for much more tender eating, similar to the normal green kale but a little lighter in texture. Steam with seafood for an elegant dish, or steam on its own and use it as a bed for meats or roasted winter vegetables. We often enjoy it sautéed with olive oil and lightly sprinkled with kosher salt.
Our outdoor Spinach took a real hit in Saturday night’s extreme cold. The flavor is excellent, but I am a little concerned about its storability, and would encourage you to use it in the next several days for the best results.
I can’t remember when we decided that our Carrots were world famous – maybe it was on a trip to Italy when friends of our hosts told us that they had heard about our carrots. But isn’t that enough? The local cross country team eats them like candy when it’s my turn to contribute to team dinner, but who wants to be “Decorah famous”?
The Sweet Red Peppers came out of the last harvest of peppers before the frost. Fall seems to love peppers in a way that it doesn’t love tomatoes, so enjoy this last burst of bright red flavor.
Honeyboat Squash came out of the same cross that resulted in Delicata and Sugarloaf winter squash, and it shares many of the same qualities. Personally, I find it to be a darned sight better than any of the many strains of Delicata on the market. Sugarloaf, a longtime favorite of mine, seems to have gone downhill over the years, with increasingly poor vigor. I finally found some seeds of Honeyboat in a quantity suitable for our operation, and the yields, disease resistance, and, most-importantly, the flavor have converted me to a new favorite.
Spicy Squash Pizza
1 Pizza’s worth of fresh or pre-baked pizza dough
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 pound, approximately, winter squash
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon allspice
pinch of cloves
Salt and Pepper to taste
2 cups shredded mozzarella (smoked, if possible)
3 tablespoons squash seeds
Dried pepper flakes
Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Peel and seed the winter squash, and slice into uniform ½-inch thick pieces. In a heavy skillet, combine the butter and olive oil over medium-low heat.Once the butter melts, add the sliced squash and cook, turning occasionally.About halfway through cooking, sprinkle with the cinnamon, allspice, and cloves, and salt and pepper to taste. Add more olive oil if the squash begins to stick.When the squash is slightly browned and tender, but before it loses its shape, remove the slice to a paper towel to drain. Meanwhile, roast the winter squash seeds on a cookie sheet in the oven until slightly crunchy. Prepare the pizza crust according to the recipe or instructions, and brush the dough with olive oil and top with the cheese.Put the squash slices on the cheese, sprinkle with the squash seeds, add hot pepper flakes to taste, and drizzle with olive oil. Transfer the pizza to the top rack in the oven and bake until the crust is crisp and the cheese is bubbly and slightly browned.Slice and serve immediately.
More closely related to turnips than to western cabbages, light and lettuce-y Chinese Cabbage has a mild flavor and delicate leaves. I like it cooked, or sliced into thin ribbons and dressed with a dressing of cider vinegar, sugar, and toasted sesame oil.
With their light green shoulders and white bottoms, Beauty Heart Radishes look rather bland on the outside, but have a bright pink interior. Our more conservative neighbors like to call them Bleeding Heart Radishes. I eat one, sliced, every day for lunch during the winter—they are sweet and delicious. We frequently enjoy them in the following salad:
Coarsely grate the Beauty Heart radishes. Add honey and vinegar and let sit for about 30 minutes. Serve small portions, chilled.
Widely grown and universally eaten in Japan, Daikon Radish is known for being a digestive stimulant. We like it sliced and served raw alongside almost any meal; it makes an especially good foil for salty meats. The overnight pickles featured in the last newsletter were the surprise hit of the night at a recent community gathering; search “daikon” at www.eatbetternews.com.
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