for the love of purple

My first purple cauliflower!

I was giving the plants a look see to determine my next course of action against recent, rampant aphid infestation. Apparently, during the previous week while all was sunny and warm the aphid wranglers (ants) were busily placing their minions all over the tenderest parts of just about anything I've planted. Despite the odds, staring up at me was this beauty. It seemed to pop up overnight.

Before any of the two legged garden pests could run off with my produce, I hacked it off with thoughts of my own dinner, but was beat to the table by a creature with far less neurons. I suppose we all gotta eat, and if I have tempting items in my front yard, critters are bound to notice. A plan was hatched. With the help of the eldest monkey, we placed it in a jar with some treats it apparently enjoys, and brought it inside in order to "protect it from predators daddy."

I checked my recent sauerkraut experiment, and admiring it's deep purple hue, decided that a purple beer would really "tie it all together." I mean, hey, it is sf beer week and all, so somehow cracking a blueberry hefeweizen seemed just the right thing. Maybe you had to be there. Or rather, here.


So, I sipped one ferment, tamped down the contents of another and contemplated our captives. That's right, two. Because little eagle eyes spotted another and made sure it made it into the jar too. Now, we feed our captives more brassica, protect them from predators, and hopefully watch 'em go through their own ferment of a sort and become something totally different.

oaktown hip hops

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!

corn in the grand scheme of things

So, in a previous post I mentioned the garden pests being pretty bad this year and how my first round of corn never made it into the house. Hoo boy was I pissed. Then sunday morning I picked our first ears and IMMEDIATELY brought them inside and boiled them. Well, obviously they made a little stop for documentation purposes, but not for the worse. The water was boiling and ready. They boiled for a few minutes and then we slathered them with butter and a pinch of salt. It was super satifying eating an ear of home grown corn. It was two years in the waiting and I would be chawing on some momentarily. My day of corn had arrived.

It looked promising. Full kernals, tender and white. I took my first bite. Corny for sure, kinda tender, but not really sweet. Figures. Work my ass off to finally get some corn around here and it's just alright. Damn! Ok, I mean I can see that I'm on a rant here but geez man, in terms of input effort and final produce this experiment screamed loser. I thought to myself "well, in the grand scheme of things this is a lesson that I should stick with growing tomatoes here in coldville, where the sun is not powerful enough to produce super sweet corn."

Two days later I found myself eating chili and what I really wanted in it besides hotdogs was some fresh corn. But nooooo, not enough around here to be found. Maybe in another week we'll have a few more ears if the theives, er uh.....I mean garden pests don't make off with them. Anyway, the chili was very satisfying in a local sense, but a bit tough with some under cooked beans. Next time I'll make it on a day that I'm not attempting three other kitchen tasks. You live and learn right? Patience you see, is inevitable in the grand scheme of things. One of the better spices in the kitchen, right up on the shelf next to love.

Tuesday night after the farmers' market, I was famished. We had some leftover white beans, zucchini and 'maters on the counter, and herbs that needed picking in the dark of night. Meaning it was dark and I needed herbs. A bit of chopping, dash of olive oil and sprinkle of salt. Tossed in the dish the beans were in to save on washing. Cold bean with fresh tomato salads are some of my favorite and with some feta and walnuts thrown in this one certainly hit the spot. The only thing it was missing was some fresh corn.

Speaking of no corn, last night for the first time in months I made my first pizza dough without cornmeal in it. It wasn't as difficult as I thought, as I simply substituted whole wheat. It still makes for one fine dough, especially herbed as we like to do it here at the monkey ranch. I had some fresh tomato sauce and some delicious sautéed mushroom-peppers-onions combo for the top. Some jersey jack to finish it and all that was needed was blistering heat for near ten minutes. It was chewy and herby on bottom, gooey contained in crisp up top. The elder monkey and I ate the entire thing in about the time it took to halfway cook some calzones. I was a bit amazed my cousin didn't show up, having that preternatural sense about them soon going in the oven at your house. With the bready items finishing cooking it was time to prep dinner.

I whizzed up a dough earlier that morning. It was all local wheat that I tried coaxing into being flakey. It had obvious butter chunks when I started but was rather thick and a bit tough. I'll have to keep working on these whole wheat crusts. I love them, but I think I need a grain mill or grinder attachment or something so I can start off with a finer flour. It was chunky and smelled nice, and the gauge it was rolled out at should contain just about any degree of wet contents. I hacked up some broccoli and green beans, putting them in the steamer for the last ten minutes the quiche baked. If only we had some fresh corn.......

The next morning it was even better. The super soft texture of the custard from the night before performed a miracle and held up nicely. The crust softened a bit in the fridge as the moisture in the dish evened out. It is one of my favorite breakfast items so a few slices served with some strong local coffee put me in the right frame of mind to end the week on a strong note.

Overall, we'd been living large eating locally this week. One round of corn instead of a predicted three, but what the hell I learned a lesson in the grand scheme of gardening here in oaktown. Next year, I won't spend so much time on just a few ears of corn. I'll channel some of that energy (and water) toward other veggies that can be put up for later.

Speaking of putting up, over at the new locavore blog there are many examples of folks preserving things this month. For an inventory of the work I've done so far this week go check it out here on my new locavore page.

Now for a few recipes of the food pictured here:

CORN:
Plant, water, encourage the sun to shine on, protect from mites aphids ants dogs humans and the like for a real long time until the stalks are about ready to give you sustenance. Go out to pick and become quite depressed with your fellow humans as you realize your corn has been ripped off. Wait another week and then finally come inside and eat an ear. Realize that the best corn you can grow is nowhere near as good the stuff at the farmers' market. Learn your lesson that corn just doesn't do that good around here.

Boil ears for 5 minutes. Slather in butter and a pinch of salt. Enjoy.


BUTTER BEAN SALAD:
2 cups cooked butter beans
1 small zucchini
3 ripe garden tomatoes
6 big leaves of basil
2 sprigs of thyme
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 diced feta
olive oil and salt to taste

Combine the beans, diced zucchini and diced tomatoes, chopped basil and thyme together. Drizzle with a few tablespoons of olive oil and add some salt. Mix and then add cheese according to your own preference. I used a cow milk feta here so it was probably milder than the typical goat version. Add the chopped walnuts, adjust the salt if needed and then sit down and enjoy it all to yourself as you deserve a nice healthy meal after a long day at work.


SUPER LOCAL QUICHE:
crust
2 cups whole wheat flour
3/4 stick butter
1/2 cup whole milk yogurt
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon salt
Freeze butter then chop into smallish pieces. Add to flour in a food processor along with salt and blend until crumbly. Don't over do it. Make sure there are obvious chunks of butter still left. Remove from food processor and add the egg and yogurt. When dough is just beginning to stick together gather into a ball and wrap up, putting into the fridge for a few hours while you work on the filling and other stuff.

filling
5 eggs
1 cup non-fat milk
1/2 cup whole milk yogurt
10 ounces grated jack and cheddar cheese (whatever proportion you like, but remeber the jack melts better in a quiche application)
1 cup sauteed veggies with bacon pieces (this started out as pancetta that was cooked and taken out of the pan, then mushrooms, onions, bell pepper and jalapeno were added and cooked until brown and lightly carmelized then the pancetta was put back in)

Roll dough into a shape roughly two inches wider than the dish you are putting it in. Press into place, shape the edges into a fun crust. Combine filling ingredients into another bowl and pour into crust. Place into a preheated 400 degree oven and cook for approximately 30 minutes. Turn down to 350 and cook until middle is set and lightly brown, maybe 10 or 15 more minutes.

garden pests

Is is just me, or are the aphids going bonkers this year? Not only in sheer numbers but in individual size too. And what about other mites and worms and stuff like that? I say this because it seems to me like everything is getting good and munched this year. In fact, talking to one of my neighbors this morning, I heard of the biggest pest of the year. The kind responsible for eating the corn that is just becoming ripe. Get this, it was a gigantic corn worm that topped out about 5 foot 7 inches and came complete with opposable thumbs. In my yard!

Back in April, I built a large cold frame in our front yard and sowed some seeds. After the seedlings were well established I started to remove the cover of the frame for incrementally longer times until I felt they were ready for our foggy nights in the low fifties near the bay. At this point some of the corn and a few 'maters were pressing against the top so it was definately time. The tomatoes were looking promising but only about half of the corn came up. The cucumbers, cantaloupe and zucchini were still wispy and in doubt. Anchoring the front I needed something that could withstand the occasional shot of dog urine, so I transplanted some rhubarb from the backyard for experiments sake. I felt that in celebration of the cover being off, I should take my first picture. It was the summer solstice.

Just two short weeks later everything seemed like it was enjoying the full sun. The rhubarb filled nearly the entire front spot (and wasn't being watered by canines) and the corn was no longer looking like upright crab grass. The zuke were beginning to fill in and I was worried for a while that the majority of the corn would start being shaded out. Still. I started drooling at the prospect of fresh corn. Last years experiment resulted in stalks about a foot high with ears looking something like the earliest corn, only having some 8 to 12 kernals, so this year came loaded with hope.

Two more weeks later and I had confidence the corn would be just fine. The cold frame was almost completely obscured by greenery, except for a glimpse of the front panel afforded by me hacking out two large rhubarb leaves that were infested with enormous patches of aphids. After seeing the front panel in the picture, I started looking up how I could try managing the pests with a home remedy because I was sure cutting off leaves is only a temporary solution. In our back yard, we had begun harvesting some sungold cherry tomatoes and the early girls were looking a bit orange. Out front the tomato blooms were going mad and I started dreaming of tomato sauce.

{static} Uh, roger that Houston, we have tassels. Over.

The rhubarb is straight up nuts. The squash is blossoming rather profusely and the cucumber and cantaloupe (that I had nearly forgotten about by now) is working its way out into my neighbors yard to get out from under the corn and squash. The first zukes are being harvested and the corn is showing promise of having ears longer than the lilliputian kind, maybe even approximately the right size. We'd begun picking a few romas and loads of cherry tomatoes were being set. The first brandywine are looking good and few have been sampled.


Although some of the veggies are being used on nearly a daily basis, we are still eagerly awaiting an ear of corn. Well, truthfully, what I mean is an ear for boiling, as last week the older monkey and I ate one raw. And dare I say, holy crap it was good. Sweet, white, but a tad under ripe. After another week the first few should be just right.
But.
This morning while going out on an early morning walk, I noticed that the couple ears I have been eyeing as just about ready have been being eyed by another and are now gone. Some rat bastard, two legged, opposabled thumbed, mammalian corn worm, with a bag and child in tow came and swiped them. My neighbor, bless her heart, witnessed the event and assumed that I had given permission to the lady due to her level of preparedness, casualness and sense of family. Hell no. I mean, the folks who do have permission do so when I'm around. I'm trying to give this person the benefit of the doubt, and assume that they are horribly misled and think that this is a community garden of sorts. It is. But it's for my family. We live on one income, things are always tight and I really don't appreciate folks taking the harvest of my hard work. It's a small garden, unfenced and out in the open. My sister warned me. She said folks would steal whatever I planted out front. Especially corn.

Why can't they steal the zucchini? Or a few cherry tomatoes? I mean, these are prolific enough that with careful attention to time of day, I'd hardly notice they were gone. But the corn? Damn! And teaching your children that this act of theivery is ok. Shame on you. Shame, shame, shame. With any hope they got the ears home, boiled some water, shucked the corn and discovered that the choicest parts were infested with aphids and ants.

All of which makes me ponder the meaning of cornholio. I've wondered where the term came from but now I have a clear idea. It's the spot on a person you aim for with your slingshot or bb gun when yer home and witness them yankin' produce from your yard.

Not to brag, more like a warning: I'm a good shot with just about any high velocity pest deterrent. Stay out of my garden or your ass is mine.......

zucchini: fried and baked, hold the steam

We've entered that time of year when the garden is a jungle. Even here in foggy ol' oakland, in a yard with southern exposure and nicely amended soil, you too can enjoy the sensation of summer squash coming out your ears. And if you have corn currently doing the tassel and silk dance, it can be coming out both of your ears. This is great and all, but about now is the time when you've had it steamed so many times that you need a new preparation or you just might hurl. Childhood memories, formed by a full stomach at my italian grandma's house are recalled and I find myself reaching for the fry and bake method. One that is very near my heart in the kitchen.

We browsed in the yard, wondering what the take would be today. A bowl full of squash and tomato. Hmmmm. What to do now? I brought the loot in the house, then decided we needed some fresh mozzarella. This meal would become a one-two garden variety punch. One I was craving. One simple, with bright flavors.

With my ingredients assembled, I gave the squash a cursory wash and began cutting it into 1/4 inch slices. I halved our cherry tomatoes. With a dip in a simple egg and milk wash, then finished with a lightly seasoned whole wheat and corn meal dusting, the disks were placed into a large pan with a nice layer of hot olive oil. A quick fry, turning once, followed by a quick rest on a rack to drip, and our bases were nearing completion.

Arranged on a cookie sheet, with the oven warming, I placed a cherry tomato atop each disk and then sprinkled it with a healthy pile of finely grated dry jack cheese. It was a little hard to not eat them at this point. (Well, a few disappeared, but really, they wouldn't fit on the pan without ruining the symmetry so I had to do something.) With our assembly complete, I put it in the oven and turned my attention to part two.

This next one was really easy. You probabaly all know the drill: Drain the mozzarella ball and slice. Slice the rest of the tomatoes, Go pick some basil, maybe give it a chop or tear and get out a bit of olive oil, and you're done.

Plated, I was in heaven. We we're having squash. Again. But this time the steaming basket was nowhere near. It was a celebration of summer, with all ingredients from the yard or the farmers' market. Well, wait, I used black pepper, and that came from a distant land. Whatever. I've been over that one before. Besides, grandma would probably not approve of me flouring squash without it. With a picture of her on my kitchen wall, it's a nice reminder of where dishes like this that fall out of my head really come from. They emanate in my heart, travel up through the memory bank up top, where through my hands it gets expressed as dinner. Which with some thoughtful chewing resides again in my stomach, next to my heart.

I wish you were still here to share this with me grandma. You'd be proud.

fresh picked produce

This past weekend, we went on down to Reedley, to my wife's folk's house. Being that it is the month of July, and her father is a gardening fiend, a trip to their house is like a trip to the market. As usual, we picked stuff for a few hours before packing the car and heading back home, this time resulting in a whopping 111 pounds of produce. Which come to think of it, is about half of our all time biggest load.

While visiting, I was speaking with my father in-law about our recent jam adventures and intentions of preserving stuff from this trip. He mentioned some of the things his mom used to "put up," including elderberry and blueberry when the berries had a good year. His reference to putting up food struck a chord with me. It reminded me of being very small and wandering into my grandma's pantry to stare at the multi-colored glass jars filled with food. He meant preserving and putting on the shelf for storage too, and coming from a child of the depression, this was something nearly everyone did. It wasn't considered liberal, or hippy or new age. You weren't considered weird or even strange in the least bit. You had an excess of a particular kind of food, so you feasted on it and then preserved it for later. No contemplating whether you needed to, or should. No pledging to folks that you would. You just did it.

So are we. I guess that makes me a child of the depression. Only this one is defined as the time when we forgot for the most part, how to grow, prepare and preserve our own food. We rely on others for our processed food needs, keeping the source obscured, cheap and distant, resulting in a massive depression of another kind marked by excess filled with emptiness.

As I write this, we have golden ketchup, seasoned tomato sauce and dried figs. There are peaches to jam, dry, or cut up for freezing. Plums to eat. Not pictured was corn and carrots. There were a number of white onions. That paper bag was half filled with green bell peppers and these light yellow, medium-hot kindamagigs. After picking up a pork roast, tomatillos and jalapeños yesterday, I've been having fun with chile verde in grandma's test kitchen today, and the aroma is making me weep with happiness.

Keeping this one short today, so I gotta go. Gotta stir, peel, chop. Salt and boil. Try not to burn the hell out of myself in the process. A lot of work, that will be yummy later. September and beyond is going to be delicious.

Time to put up.

pasta di yardo

........ssshhhh!!!!

e v e r y t h i n g i s n i c e a n d q u i e t a r o u n d h e r e .

Both of the monkeys are asleep. I should be too.

An hour ago my wife gave me the T symbol (like for time out) indicating she was heading to Tar-zhay. If I wanted to get in an extra hour or two of sleep, now would be the time. But I'm torn you see. Between a blog and a hard space if you will. The purpose of this blog is really for me to document the grub we eat and all that entails, so at times like this I should sit down and bust out something. Don't take forever editing and rechecking. Just write it and let it be.

Today was our first real tomato harvest of the season. I had been eyeing the big one for a few days, so this meal was not a big suprise. What was is the fresh pasta we cranked out to go with it. Monkey 1 helped me assemble the gadgetry. Then after seeing the process was ready to crank and dust with flour all by her big-girl self. We worked on some whole wheat dough this time, and for me, the combination of this and using the pasta roller was taking it into uncharted territory. We brought it back to the familiar by going out back and picking our pasta garnish, with the monkey throwing in a few "extras" for her amusement and sense of further contibution to the meal.
"Oh yeah, we should put some parsley in our salad daddy!"
"Parsley is great honey, but it's really for our pasta."
"And some tomatoes too!"
"That's right sweetie. Wait, what are you picking there hon?"
"Oh.....some cilantro. That goes really well with salad."
"Yes honey, but this is for our pasta remember?"
"Yeah! And some mint too!"

You learn to edit from the ingredients so lovingly harvested by enthusiatic little paws. We don't really need 2 tablespoons of rosemary in this one. But the others........I'll give it a try and add the itsy-bitsy bit of cilantro and the two mint leaves she included.

To really impress the monkey, and try and have her first real experience with the hand crank pasta machine be guaranteed fun, I got out our pasta drying rack. I had a hunch her hands would just love the tedium of repetetive pasta placement. It's times like this that I really begin to think, hey, maybe I've learned a little something at this parenting thing, because she just ate it up. Well, almost, she wanted too, but I told her we'd have it soon enough. With the pasta on the rack, I minced our herbs and gave it a toss with olive oil and a few pinches of salt. It smelled fantastic, and the tomato fumes were just killing me. I snuck a few bites in and the prognosis for the garden this year is good. So far, the bigun 'maters are sweet and heady with tang, and the littles are just plain sweet. Yep, shaping up just fine. Well, in the flavor category at least.

With the pasta cooked and drained, tossed and served, we were in for another night of tasting our backyard, and this made me very happy. It seems that even if the stuff you can grow at home isn't all that big of pretty for that matter, diced and minced, served within an hour of being picked and it's hard to go wrong. It's gonna taste good. Then again, I'm also beginning to think that even bad produce served super fresh is better than really fantastic stuff served weeks later. My brain thinks these things late at night. Like especially when we've just had nine different species of plants plucked and tossed with homemade pasta and I'm feeling proud of our little garden that could.

This went well with a dark porter from homebrew batch 2. Oh, and you just gotta have cheese, so some fresh grated dry jack was heaped on before eating. This meal is a knockout on a warm summer evening. The pasta is a bit of work, but it cooks in about a minute and there is plenty to put in the fridge for another day. And fresh pasta is always nice. But the star of this is the fresh herbs. Because none of them are cooked, they still have all their zing and volatile compounds that release directly into your mouth and not into the air for the hour before.

If you have little ones around, and a few herbs in the yard that they can pick, bring them out back and try something like this. Involving them in the preparation of a meal is a huge bonus. Monkey always seems more interested in eating something she helped make (don't you?). If you don't have time to make the pasta, go buy some. Toss it all together with some olive oil and the minced herbs with tomato and onion and it will taste like summer in your mouth.

It's really late......goodnight.