Catching On

Winter growing is catching on in central New York. The Ithaca Journal recently ran a story about several local farms that have begun offering winter "shares" of root vegetables and hardy greens grown in unheated "hoop houses" (or "high tunnels"). And the Greenstar Cooperative Market newsletter noted that they will be carrying the first-ever crop of winter braising greens from the newly established Good life Farm in nearby Interlaken (just north of Ithaca).

In the mid-west, Driftless Farm and Forest reports on their "Log Blog" that they are experimenting with a winter "Greens Share" for the first time, using a passive solar greenhouse. And in Maine, the pioneering farmers at the Four Season Farm have been bringing vegetables to market year-round for years.

The growing experimentation with cold weather growing -- commercially and on the home scale -- makes me happy. So does a freshly picked salad (above) and the tubful of Jerusalem artichokes that I dug from beneath the snow last week.

Simple Pleasures

This has been a difficult month for many people I love dearly. So I find myself taking comfort in simple things -- small kindnesses; the sun shining through the southern windows, warm on my shoulders as I type; the glistening of last night's ice as it melts, like thousands of crystals strung on the trees and plants outside; and the greens that continue to grow in the midst of winter. In the freezing cold, they become ever-more tender and sweet. It's good to remember that.

Here are some photos taken Christmas Day when I peaked under the plastic hoops to see how things were doing. From top to bottom: mache, claytonia (miner's lettuce), baby bok choi, turnips, a row of chard (right) and turnips, Asian savoy, and braised mixed greens.

Winter Solstice

The small flames dance

at the edge of the dark night

coaxing the season's turn

the sun's return

miracle repeated. 

May the new year bring warmth, light and joy. 

Photo: Richard Lansdowne, 2007.

What's available

As the winter solstice nears and today's weather report indicates a wind chill of about 0 degrees, the ground is starting to freeze. But it's still possible to dig, especially in beds that have been covered with the plastic tunnels. Last weekend, I took out the leeks and carrots that were still out in the open and some of the turnips. This morning, I dug about half the remaining winter radishes. We'll mulch the remainder of the root vegetables heavily. If we haven't waited too long to mulch, we might be able to keep digging the remaining root vegetables for another month. Otherwise, they'll remain in the ground until early spring.

This weekend was also time to eat the last acorn squash and turn the stored pumpkins into soup. The pumpkins had been left on the front porch which, not surprisingly, is too cold for squash this time of year. They should have been moved into our unheated entryway several weeks ago. In fact, I just read that winter squash keep better at warmer temperatures (about 50 degrees), unlike root vegetables, which prefer much cooler conditions. The slightly frozen pumpkins were fine to cook, but they had to be used immediately. Now, in the form of 3 gallons of curried pumpkin soup, they'll last for many months more. The seeds, which we toasted, were gone immediately.

It’s one thing to read claims that communities in the northeast U.S. could produce most, if not all, the produce they need locally. It’s another to see it in action. Here’s what we’re eating mid-December:

From the garden:

Leeks

Jerusalem artichokes

Garlic scallions

Salad greens (mâche, claytonia, beet leaves, mustards, spinach, arugala)

Five kinds of Asian greens (for salads and stir fry)

Kale

Chard

Radishes (French & Daikon)

Carrots

Parsley

Sorrell

Winter savory

Thyme

Sage

Growing in the kitchen

Parsley

Bean sprouts (for salads and stir fry)

Rosemary

From cool storage

(Cool room or frig)

Beets

Garlic

Cabbage

Carrots

Winter radishes

Pickles

Horseradish relish

Dill & coriander (cilantro) seeds

From the freezer

String beans

Sugar-snap peas

Chard

Zucchini & yellow squash (stored as soup)

Pumpkin (stored as soup)

Blueberries and strawberries (picked from local farms at their peak and frozen whole)

Black-cap raspberries (frozen whole)

Peach compote

Basil, mint & garlic pestos

Bought from the market (local)

Apples & pears

Potatoes

Onions

Yams

Canned tomatoes and a few bananas are the only non-local produce needed this month. Usually, tomatoes would be in the freezer, but this summer’s early arrival of late blight destroyed most of the local crop (including our own), and limited potato yields as well. It will be a couple more years until our pear trees bear fruit, and even longer for our own apples (since we haven’t planted them yet.) And we still don't grow enough onions, winter squash and other root vegetables to get through entire the winter. But fortunately, local farmers have this covered.

As the above list shows, year-round local produce doesn’t rely on any one solution – canning, freezing, storing, or growing fresh. Nor is it a question of growing it all oneself versus buying from commercial farmers. Rather, it is a combination of all of the above. Some food (i.e., summer vegetables and fruits) is best canned or frozen when in abundance. Other veggies can be grown through the winter under cover. And still others are fall crops that store well or that can be cooked up and frozen as time allows.

Each year, we grow what we are able – limited by time, weather, space, and skill, and we are thankful to the community’s commercial farmers for the rest. We are not aiming for “self-sufficiency,” but rather finding our place in a local, inter-dependent community food system that can – and will – provide enough sustenance for all.

25 degrees & still growing

Memo to self: when picking greens in 25 degree weather, use a plastic bowl, not a metal one.

Winter growing has its challenges, like how numbingly cold wet fingers get picking small greens when the temperature’s below freezing, or the way bare skin sticks to a metal bowl. On the other hand, the greens are there to be picked. It’s quite amazing given that night-time temperatures have been in the teens, and far lower when the gusting wind chill is taken into account.

There was rain before the temperature dropped, so the rocks holding down the edges of the plastic were frozen to the ground. But once dislodged and the plastic lifted, the greens beneath looked chilly (or maybe it was just me who was chilly!) but absolutely fine.

I’ve read that as the air turns cold, some of these plants begin to produce compounds (including sucrose) that act as “antifreeze,” preventing the formation of ice crystals within the plant’s cells.

So they not only survive, but thrive, becoming sweeter, more tender and more flavorful in winter than summer. These winter salad leaves also have a welcome crispness that the summer versions never do and a pleasing mix of tastes.

By dinner time, frozen fingers seemed a small price to pay for the salad that awaited. Here’s what was in yesterday’s mix (clockwise, from top left):

• Asian Savoy
  
• Mâche and Claytonia (miners’ lettuce), the hardiest of the winter salad greens
  
• Burgundy “Bulls’ Blood” beet leaves, added more for color than for its mild taste
  
• Spicy “Red Giant” mustard
  
• "Golden Frill mustard
• Mizuna
  
• Parsley
  
• “Shunkyo Semi-Long,” a French radish that is both hot and sweet

Memo #2 to self: Start designing the walk-in solar greenhouse now, so there’ll be no digging under snowy, frozen plastic near year.

White and Greens

We had our first dusting of snow earlier in the week. It’s gone now, of course, but a promise of what’s yet to come. Micro-farming has helped me appreciate the winter months more. I still don’t like the cold (which, in my mind, is anything below 60 degrees), but I’ve come to appreciate the seasonal changes in rhythm and focus. Now, instead of working in the garden until 8 or 9 pm, I sit by the woodstove and thumb through the seed and tree catalogs that have begun to arrive. Outside, I admire the neatly stacked wood pile, the result of Richard’s work through the summer and fall, cutting and splitting dead trees. There’s a cycle to the year, and it feels right.

What gardening there is these days is mostly harvesting. The leeks will be fine for a while, even with the snow. And the greens are protected by their plastic blankets. The hardiest, like kale, don’t need the cover to survive, but the added warmth is encouraging them to continue to produce new growth. Some days I remember to pick a bowlful of greens before going to work in the morning. Other days, I head out with a flashlight in the after-work darkness.

Yesterday, working at home, I made it out before dark, harvesting nearly a pound of kale for dinner. Most of it was “Red Russian,” smaller, but far more tender than other kale varieties. The “red” in the name refers to its purple stems and leaf veins; the leaves themselves are green. This crop remains, surprisingly, from a spring planting of a mesclun salad mix. Most of the other greens in the mix have long gone to seed and been pulled. But the kale is still producing, too large now for salad but perfect for braising.

I wasn’t a fan of kale until I learned to cook it well. Our favorite: sautéing a entire head of garlic in olive oil, then adding the kale leaves (stripped from the stem) with just the water remaining on the leaves after rinsing them; when they have cooked down, season with tamari and balsamic vinegar to taste. Now we can’t get enough. Last night, I added some cooked white beans at the very end and served it over pasta for a quick dinner-in-a-bowl. The pound of kale disappeared in a single sitting.