Yo!
You heard the 411 on the
hop crisis?
Well, whether you have or not, for us malt liquor lovers, it's like, damn! Fo' shoe-a.
Luckily, my abode here in Oaktown be in a middle latitude on dis' orb and gots a hella mild climate. Means you can grow'em yo'self my peeps.
So somehow seeing into the future and anticipating the shortage of some hops for craft brewers, about this time last year, I bought a few hop rhizomes and planted them out front. Really, I bought them down at the
Oak Barrel because they had some, I love growing things, and a town named Hopland is under two hours away so I figured they'd do at least alright. Anyway, they were planted in half barrels containing crappy soil that needed much amending and aerating. No worries. I read they don't do much their first year. Sure nuff, they went up about four feet reeeel slowly and then all the greenery died about November during our first almost frost.
This year, I looked at our garden space more closely and hatched a plan for hop production. I transplanted them into a patch that I used an acidic conditioner on (sulfur bits). Apparently, the new environs and second year of growth have coincided nicely, for we now have a few plants climbing. Getting them to grow is one challenge. Directing their growth is another. So, to push the learning even further, I put strings I tied to tomato cages at ground level and to a few rusty screws near our roofline (placed so fortuitously by a former tenant) for the Northern Brewer to climb, while the Cascade are being directed to go out horizontal above the cold frame and toward the street.
Looking out the bathroom window now involves a leafy view, particularly downward. The
bines grow clockwise around the strings and haul themselves up rather nicely. And if you like watching things grow, these are fun. On that hottest day a few weeks back here in the bay area, one of them seemed to grow about eight inches. I couldn't believe my eyes, but it corresponded with it coming up over the gutter and finally onto the roof so it was easy to see its progress over the course of the day. It was amazing.
I love plants.
On closer inspection a few days later, I noticed that what I thought might be the developing cones, must indeed be. From a distance, it looked like the plants had blurry spots on them. I hauled myself up for a closer look and there they were in open flowering mode, fuzzy and hoppy. I went back inside and did a little happy dance feeling totally stoked at the prospect of a future hop harvest. I thought to myself
sheee-iiiit damn! DIY rules! (followed by whispering to myself)
Just don't fuck it up now.........
The little ladies in the neighborhood have been diggin' on the hops too. I guess it it still technically spring for a few more days and they might as well make the best of it. I welcome any thing that pleases them for there have been no pests of any kind so far. By the looks of these critters, I can probably count on aphids at least being out of the picture. Or can I? A horrid thought crossed my mind:
we had some enormous garden pests last year, chiefly in the form of the North American bastard corn swiper. They better not return and like hops too!Well, I'm off to go make a few bamboo stake booby traps and maybe a slingshot or two. So, remember, whatever you may consider doing in my yard, make sure you have explicit permission!
Dude. Version 3.0 of my wood fired oven. I finished it the previous week and gave it a test with some pizzas. Bottoms cooked up nice, but the oven wasn't hot enough. This time, I've hopefully learned a bit. The fire had been roaring for a few hours and my backyard was looking just right in the late afternoon light. Right for some more experiments with sourdough pizza topped with yard gatherings and local charcuterie, baked in a handmade brick oven. 
Hmm? What was that about local charcuterie? Well let me tell you about something special. How about local hog and sun dried gypsy peppers (Riverdog Farms), with no added nitrates all tenderly crafted by the folks at Dopo Adesso. Try a "Zingaro" from the newest stand at the Saturday Berkeley Farmers' Market. Come on down and check them out. They had a crazy line-up of salami and paté, rillete and countless other derivations of porky goodness. Oh and get there early. On their first day at the market, they sold out.
Oh yeah, back to the wood fired pizza. Lets see. Two day fermented sourdough with a pesto sauce. Mozzarella and caramelized onions. Mushrooms, arugula and sliced zingaro. Holy flargin' cow I was drooling so hard in anticipation. If only I could cook these without burning the shit out of myself turning them in a 700 degree oven with a tiny handled spatula and gardening gloves. Well, see now, the homebrew is for a good reason I guess.
The first round of pizzas cooked up in about 4 minutes. I was pleased with the results and my sister and I horked down the first round of personal sized pies in about ten minutes. Noticing I still had homebrew left, and that the oven was still hot as be'jeebus, I thought I should take the opportunity to learn a bit more. I went back in, threw together two more pies and continued testing the bounds of my little brick and cob fire chamber. 
Was I happy I continued baking pies. The next few took around 5 or 6 minutes to cook and baked up more evenly. They were crispy on the bottom, with fluffy crust and crisped toppings. I was so pleased with myself that I brought them inside, and despite feeling stuffed already, ate half of each, washing it down with that delicious and morally supportive homebrew.....
