Seed Catalogs

Winter has yet to arrive at the farm in any significant fashion, except back in October, when it seemed that the weather might just have turned for good. The ground freezes up on frosty mornings, but always lets go by midday, and we’ve been blessed with a succession of sunny days. And yet, before this year’s slate has even been wiped clean, we know for certain that spring is just around the corner, because the seed catalogs have begun to arrive.

Seed catalogs represent all that is right and good about growing vegetables. There are no bugs in seed catalogs. The weather is neither too hot nor too cold. The timing is always when we can first work the soil, or just after the last spring frost has passed. The vegetables look perfect: beautiful domes of broccoli, golden orange pumpkins, and big, tight heads of romaine lettuce. The weeds simply don’t exist.

Like a photo album, a good seed catalog can be a walk down memory lane. I visit all of my old friends, remembering their pleasant surprises and solid goodness. The sturdy hardiness of Winterbor kale, the wild sweetness of Sungold cherry tomatoes, and the orange crunchiness of Bolero carrots. Occasionally, I stumble across a photograph of a bitter memory—the yellow tastelessness of Azafran tomatoes, or the ugly waxiness of Sugar Sprint peas. Occasionally, an important picture is missing, and we curse under our breaths, “Where the @#$% am I going to find Sugarloaf squash this year?”

The fantasies we develop while reading seed catalogs tell about the depths of our vegetable souls. In the darkest days of the year, I can’t resist a tomato variety, and look forward to becoming the largest Belgian endive grower in the Upper Midwest. I dream about luscious, large, improbably-colored eggplants, and order small packets of every red, frilly lettuce in the catalog. Oliver spends days poring over pictures of sweet corn and melons.

In December, the fields always look ragged and tired, and, frankly, I feel the same way. Like the fields, I want nothing more than to draw into myself, letting the winter wash over me. But before I’ve fully rested from the intensity of the growing season, the seed catalogs begin flowing through my like the first trickle of water melting off the snow banks on the ridge. Hope springs eternal, and I am reenergized with a vision of the future. This will be the year the Belgian endive really works. I will find the perfect lettuce in just the right shade of red. And the sweetness and fragrance of the ripe melons will lift our souls beyond these earthly bonds.

Farm Happenings

Weather: Unbelievably warm and pleasant.

What We Did: Mostly, we focused on the Thanksgiving holiday, a huge crunch time on the farm between roots and herbs. We washed a whole lot carrots and put a whole lot of herbs in clamshells.

Bird Watching: I’ve been paying more attention to the birds on the farm these last couple of months, which has provided an unending supply of appreciation as I’ve learned to identify several by ear and sight that I didn’t know before. Chickadees, especially, have become a favorite of mine, as bouncing flocks of them move through the oaks and the dried prairie flower seed heads as I walk back from putting the kids on the bus in the morning. On Sunday, pheasants burst out of the asparagus field, and a pileated woodpecker dogged me from the oak savanna to the spruce tree line behind the house. Just this morning, I heard and saw a nuthatch and a cardinal as I walked up to the road. A red tailed hawk guarded the field edges, and an immature bald eagle hovered over Sarah at the packing shed.

In the Kitchen

When you get your box home this week almost everything goes in the crisper drawer in a plastic bag. The acorn squash and the yellow onions will prefer a cool and dry location, with low humidity being the most important factor.

Long, white Daikon radishes are popular in Japan, where they account for 15% of that country’s vegetable production. We frequently enjoy them sliced, raw, as a foil to salty meats or just for snacking. We also enjoy the following recipe on a regular basis throughout the winter:

Beet, Carrot, and Daikon Salad

1 medium beet
6-inch piece of daikon
1 medium carrot
2 tsp rice vinegar
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp vegetable oil

Grate all of the roots together, and add salt and pepper to taste. Add rice vinegar, sesame oil, and canola. Makes 4 small servings.

Kale is a wonderful winter green, frequently harvestable until the snow flies and even beyond. The colder the weather, the sweeter the flavor grows. It goes well with salty or cured meats, pungent aromatics, acid flavors, and cream. Alongside baked squash and prosciutto ham, the following dish really shines. Like all greens, it stores best in a plastic bag in the crisper drawer of your refrigerator.

Braised Kale with Sun-Dried Tomatoes and Garlic

2 Tbsp Olive Oil
4 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup chopped sun-dried tomatoes
1 bunch curly kale
Freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup white wine
1/2 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 oz crumbled goat, feta, sharp cheddar cheese

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet or 4 qt soup pot. Add garlic and sauté, stirring, until it starts to brown. Add the sun-dried tomatoes and stir to combine. Add the kale, tossing to coat well with the oil. Season with salt and pepper, add the water and wine, and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, cover and cook until the kale has softened. Uncover, turn the heat up, and cook away the liquid, stirring frequently. Remove from heat, season with vinegar, and top with cheese.

Purple-topped turnips are delicious in the fall, grounding the flavors of other root vegetables. Larger turnips should be peeled, while the smaller ones can be prepared whole. Seven-year old Isabel enjoys preparing the following recipe quite often throughout the winter.

Roasted Turnips and Carrots

1/2 lb carrots
1 lb turnips
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tsp fresh thyme (optional)
Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400. Prepare the carrots and turnips so that they are about the same size and shape, by cutting the turnips lengthwise into halves or quarters. Toss with olive oil and thyme, and season generously with salt and pepper. Spread evenly in a baking pan in a single layer, and roast, uncovered, for 20 to 45 minutes, stirring and tossing periodically until the vegetables are cooked through.

Roasted Fall Vegetables with Balsamic Vinegar

4 lbs assorted root vegetables: turnips, rutabaga, celeriac, winter radish, carrots, beets; quartered onions and chunks of winter squash work well too.
3 tablespoons olive oil
a smattering of fresh or dried herbs (we like rosemary)
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Scrub vegetables and cut off roots and tops. Cut into 2 inch pieces and toss with olive oil. Spread on a baking sheet or in a roasting pan and roast for 30 minutes or until fork tender. Add minced garlic and dried herbs. Stir and cook for 7 minutes more. Remove from oven. Add balsamic, salt and pepper. Mix well and serve.

The Black Spanish Radishes really shine when sliced paper thin (I keep a mandolin handy for this sort of thing, as well as for making matchsticks from root vegetables), drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with black sesame seeds. Also wonderful with sharp cheddar cheese and a dark beer.