At some point on Thursday evening or Friday morning, I print out the harvest list on, of all things, a dry erase whiteboard! The last time I saw these things in action, they were lining walls floor to ceiling in trendily makeshift loft-style offices in big cities during the original dotcom frenzy. Then, they were covered with all kinds of wild brainstorming notes and diagrams for generally harebrained Web schemes. Now, it turns out they’re also perfect for listing veggies ready to be harvested. They’re fun to write on, quite impervious to a little runaway rinse water, and when it’s all over, easy to wipe clean with a damp cloth and start again! On busy harvest Fridays this year, the harvest board’s been the main way to stay on track, a step larger than the index card in an overall pocket that I used to use when harvesting on my own. Without a list of some sort, it’s amazing how you can forget an entire crop when racing against sundown. And there’s a little markup system: X in the box means harvested (half an X means maybe need more), a strikethrough line means fully sorted, rinsed, bunched or bagged, and counted. A simple and effective tiny farming tool, although a classic chalkboard would do as well!
Veggies
Cherry tomatoes
Life imitates…candy! Picking cherry tomatoes may take forever, but it’s totally worthwhile for both looks and taste. This is newer tiny farm thinking for me. In my concern for quantity, having enough every week for market and CSA shares, I tended to favor things that grew BIGGER. Kinda primitive-practical (and I’m still biased against baby veggies, like tiny scallopini squash—just give ’em a couple more days, no?! :). Only last year, I finally expanded the cherry selection from a couple of standard round, red varieties to a fair mix of heirlooms and modern hybrids. Today’s assortment includes Golden Cherry, Red and Yellow Pear, Ildi, Red Currant, Chadwick’s Cherry, Matt’s Wild Cherry, and Sweet Baby Girl. There’s supposed to be Green Grape in there, maybe they were passed over because they didn’t look ready to pick!
Pigweeding and local food
In the foreground, a pigweeding throwdown with the crew of the day: Eoghan and Alison (trying out a little tiny farming for the first time), Jo, Mami (our second WWOOFer, also from Japan), Conall. Everyone pull! (The most alarming giant pigweed specimens had already been ERADICATED by the time this photo was taken!) In the background, a house on the subdivision to the east of the garden field (it was severed from the farm years ago), home of our nearest CSA member. Their veggie farm for the season is literally a stone’s throw away—local food doesn’t get closer than that!
Purple Haze
When yet another person asked for the “purple carrots” at last Saturday’s farmers’ market, I realized they had moved up from alternative variety to mainstay status, alongside Nelson (hybrid) and Touchon (open-pollinated heirloom). That’s kinda cool, considering how orange and carrot go together around here. This is the second season that I’ve harvested PH for market at least every two or three weeks.
This year, I’ve included PH in every carrot planting (five so far, one a make-up for bad germination), and despite one bad showing, germination is overall as reliable as any of the others. Once established, PH has been great in our rather heavy clay-loam soil, growing straight and performing well even when a bit crowded.
Purple Haze is an imperator-shaped carrot (thick at the top, tapering to a point, cartoon carrot-style), with an orange core, and retains its purple color even through light cooking (it gets darker and less purple with full cooking). And it consistently tastes great—raw, it has a distinctively dry, refreshing crunch, and it’s always sweet as well as…carroty.
It’s a hybrid (I intend to try Purple Dragon, which I’ve had my eye on for a while, apparently an heirloom, but the seed is crazy expensive…), grows to 10-12″ (25-30cm) in 65-70 days, was an AAS winner (best of the best new varieties) for 2006, the year it hit seed catalogs here.
The bunch in the pic, pulled for today’s last couple of CSA shares, are from the second planting and just starting to put on size. And, yeah, they’re named after the classic Jimi Hendrix track!?! “‘Scuse me while I kiss the sky…” :)
Tomatoes
Taking a break during a drizzle (it’s not RAIN, and I doubt it’ll turn into it either), I piled up a few leftovers from Friday’s tomato harvest. The mid- and main-season toms aren’t yet ready, so we picked what we could, and didn’t keep track amongst the 50+ varieties. Still, I can recognize most of ’em. There are smaller and larger heirloom Striped Germans (yellow with a beautiful red blush), the large round one in front is Polfast, a new early hybrid that isn’t behaving that early, the smaller reds are Stupice, there are a couple of red cherries, sliding in on the left is Tangerine, and more… Notably absent are the black tomatoes (Cherokee Purple, Black Krim and the others), with their distinctive deep green to earthy red coloring—the few that were ready were sold or eaten! The little yellow cherry tom nestled in the middle on the left was actually given to me yesterday at the market; called Garden Peach, it has a fuzzy peach-like texture, and great taste (I had a couple!). If I can’t find it in the catalogs, I’ll save the seed and hope for the best.
Mesclun on my mind
Mesclun remains the mainstay crop on this tiny farm. What I grow is perhaps not strictly “mesclun”, it’s nine varieties of lettuce with no other, more exotic greens—arugula, mizuna, and so forth—mixed in. Also, at times if it gets away a bit, the leaves can be kinda large, making it more of a basic salad mix. Still, it’s all mesclun around here, and this year particularly, we’ve grown LOTS. Salads are popular, and for no reason easily explained, the acceptable price at our farmers’ market is way higher than for any other crop (except, perhaps, blueberries?!). It’s a top seller on market day, it’s dead easy to grow, most of the time, and none of the other, larger local growers bother with it (only one other farm regularly has lettuce). So it’s an all-around winner. Then there’s the big BUT: hot, dry mid-summer weather, when the germination rate is usually terrible, the beds grow rapidly and are hard to time, and the heat can easily turn a fine, fresh-tasting crop into a messier, partially bolted bit of a nightmare. Simply seeding in many extra beds isn’t a solution, because the watering and weeding this would require would be insane. You simply have to keep planting moderately and frequently, and hope for nice weather breaks. Shortages are inevitable, and cut directly into customer satisfaction (expectations, expectations!!). For these reasons, at this time of year, mesclun is always on my mind. For the last couple of plantings, we’ve used…BURLAP for the first few days after seeding, which actually works, reducing watering in time and increasing the germination rate quite a bit. Next year, I intend to finally figure out an even better way…
Pulling onions
Started the full onion harvest today. This is about half the crop, pulled and layed out to dry (although, with NO RAIN, drying is hardly an issue). Above, it’s peppers and eggplant; at the top left, an almost depleted section of Yukon Gold potatoes with a scraggly weed cover that needs to be tilled in. The onions will be topped, put around half deep in the old style wooden bushel baskets (lots of air, no sweating), and set in the barn to cure. Once again, this year I took the easy way with onion sets, which limits my selection and also seems to produce flatter rather than rounder bulbs. Here it’s the usual two: Stuttgarter yellow cooking and Spanish Yellow (that’s apparently the variety name). Next year, it’s gotta finally be onions from seed! For now, nothing fancy: strong, flavorful onions that bring tears to your eyes!