Peas in the pod leave us no choice. It’s time to sit on the porch, bowl in lap, for the highly inefficient process of shelling. Inefficient because the armload of peas harvested this afternoon, once shelled, results in a tiny bowl of fresh peas. It’s a lot easier to buy a bag of frozen peas. Even the organic ones aren’t very expensive. But buying them would cancel the many joys of home grown peas.

First is the early planting when it seems spring will never stay in northern Ohio. Then there’s carefree growth as peas sprout with eager abandon, climbing anything they can find and blooming for weeks with shy seashell-like flowers. And then harvest. We get two plantings if we’re conscientious about it, so that means months of peas.   

But the excuse to sit on the porch listening to birdsong and shelling peas is my favorite reason. Each pod cracked open releases a fresh scent. Each row of peas lined up is a reminder that our lives hinge on nature’s miracles, the kind we too often forget. Shelling peas keeps my hands busy and my mind unencumbered. That’s time for contemplation. In our too often rushed and media-narrated lives, more time to shell peas on a porch might be just the peaceful interlude we all need.       

Tonight we’re eating fresh peas, raw and still brimming with the nutrients that sun and soil have given them. Wishing you peas and joy.







 

 

 

Springtime means it’s time to include nettle in each jar of iced tea I brew. It helps keep hay fever at bay. And time to chop fresh mint and cilantro in salads. I’m convinced it does wonders to keep our sinuses clear when we cut and stack hay. And time to make our food hotter with garlic, onions and all kinds of peppers. Sure, they’re healthy. But I have other reasons. Warm weather means our windows are open and the one resident here who alleges that my cooking peels paint has fewer reasons to lob sarcastic asides. 

We actually don’t get sick here. Maybe it’s Isabelle’s raw milk, maybe it’s our raw honey  or maybe it’s the threat of homemade remedies. My remedies work like a charm (the scary incantation sort of charm). I'm one of those loony natural healing people. I have jars of herbs I grow and dry, bottles of tinctures I make, and perhaps most frightening---concoctions in which reishi mushrooms and schizandra berries float. I've discovered that healing doesn't lie in any of these substances, it lies in my family’s strong dislike of being dosed with them. Perhaps they have indistinct baby memories of crushed garlic and mullein oil in their once tiny ears as ear infection remedies or perhaps they're just afraid of what else I might do. They know that a cough or sniff will doom them to my ministrations. 

My craziness is beginning to seem a bit less loony. Apparently mild over the counter painkillers are linked to hearing loss and liver damage. Cough syrups are useless.  Antidepressants (now prescribed in record numbers) are ineffectual for most people with mild or serious depression. And those handy meds for “acid stomach” are linked to dementia and osteoporosis.

My family may be onto something by avoiding my remedies. Now if all of us can just do better avoiding conventional remedies unless we really, really need them. So drink herb tea, eat fresh salad and open the window. It’s spring!








 

 

My first-ever crop of homegrown potatoes may have become someone’s magic mushrooms. 

 
I eagerly started out as a gardener with a patch of Ohio clay I turned over by hand. The potatoes I planted grew nicely all summer long. I cut the tops down when it was time but when I dug up my harvest what I found hardly resembled potatoes. They were tiny shriveled bits of spud mockery. They must have grown only slightly toward potato size before curling in on themselves in a remarkable imitation of exotic dried mushrooms. After they sat on my back porch for a few days in the sun, taunting me, I thought I’d take them to show my father. He grew up on a farm. Surely he could tell me what had gone wrong. Or at least get a good chuckle at my gardening abilities.

 

 
I put a handful of that “harvest” in a plastic baggie on the passenger seat of my car. On the way to my parent’s house I stopped at work to pick up my check and lingered a bit to chat with co-workers. When I got back to the parking lot I discovered that my car had been broken into. Strangely they’d taken nothing. 

 
But by the time I got to my parent’s house I realized the thieves had stolen something after all. The baggie was gone. Perhaps my potatoes-gone-wrong provided someone with an unexpected trip. Perhaps a less than wild ride that left them longing for colcannon, pierogis and knishes.

This year I’m planting potatoes again. I read a wonderful post about growing potatoes in containers last fall at Living the Frugal Life. Here’s our attempt, step-by-step, with some modifications. I’ll update at harvest time. 

First, obtain food grade buckets. The bakery department at the grocery store in town saved them for us. They get frosting and mixes in these buckets (the ingredient list still on the label is enough to horrify even a die-hard processed food eater). I'm not a fan of growing or storing in plastic, but I'm comforted to realize that at least we're repurposing these containers. 

 

We have 22 of these five gallon buckets. That seems sufficient for the 2 lb bag of certified organic Rio Grande Russet seed potatoes I have on hand.

Drill drainage holes in the side or bottom of each bucket. As an experiment, I drilled 6 to 8 holes in some and fewer in others.

Shovel clean stone in a thin layer on the bottom of the bucket for additional drainage. You may not find that necessary. We usually have a very wet spring here in Northern Ohio.

I understand potatoes like to grow in sandy, loamy soil. That's something we don't have. And because I think of dirt as full of life, I'm not about to trot off to buy sterilzed potting soil. So I'm planting these potatoes in what we have in plentiful supply around here---well rotted cow manure. It may be too rich or unbalanced in some important way, but for these potatoes, it's what's for dinner.

I fill each pail about a third to a quarter full, then tuck a seed potato in each bucket down the requisite three inches. Being me, I offer up encouragement to each potato as it's patted into the soil.

Then I soak up water from the pond to thoroughly dampen each bucket, something I'll be doing every day it doesn't rain around here.

Now if I understand potato-growing correctly, as root nodules sprout the plant needs to be covered by additional layers of dirt. This stimulates more root growth, resulting in more potatoes. It also protects growing potatoes from the sun, which can make them inedible. So I’ll continue adding loose soil, nearly reburying the growing plant each time. Eventually the bucket will be topped off with dirt, the plant will be growing right out of the top and the bucket will be brimming with potatoes. I think I’ll keep encouraging my potato plants too. I’ve read estimates of 10 to 25 pounds of potatoes per pound of seed potatoes. 

Commercially grown potatoes are listed by the Environmental Working Group as one of the top foods to avoid unless purchased organically due to pesticide residues. 

It’s hard to find organic potatoes around here. I hope to find more space in my ever-growing gardens for other varieties of potatoes, planted for later harvest. But for now, I'm happy to see those pails in the sun behind a little barn, like merry tubers-in-waiting. 




  Magic Mushroom painting courtesy of kaijakat

As humans get fatter and use ever more energy to remain comfortably numb, we seem to be losing our sense of irony. And our humanity. 

Latest evidence, cow-powered treadmills. 

Supposedly an eco-friendly source of energy production, this device invented by William Taylor of Northern Ireland traps a cow on a tilted non-powered belt. The cow slides down if it doesn’t continue to walk forward. As it walks the belt moves, spinning a gearbox that drives a generator which produces small amounts of electricity. A feed box at the front of this cruelty chamber, er Livestock Power Mill, supposedly motivates the cow.  

The May 2010 issue of Popular Science crows about the idea in an article titled “The Energizer Cow.” At first the piece alleges that most cows “mill around aimlessly in pens” but a paragraph later says “cows walk as many as eight hours a day while grazing.”  Apparently cows aren’t popular enough to qualify for more science in Popular Science. Confine any creatures (including science writers) in pens where they’re deprived of their natural activities and chances are you’ll see them “mill around aimlessly.”   

The device has a very modest energy output of “up to” two kilowatts, hardly worth Taylor’s pricetag of $100,000 for a 50 cow system. Popular Science envisions confining the world’s cattle as living generators. The magazine ends the piece with this exuberant idea: “If the planet’s 1.3 billion cattle used treadmills for eight hours a day, they would provide 6 percent of the world’s power.”

Sorry Popsci. Studies showing cows make more milk when they get exercise aren’t based on trapping animals naturally inclined to socialize with fellow herd members as they forage for the most nutritious plants in a grassland together. In fact studies indicate that a cow’s happiness, yes happiness as it can best be determined, goes a long way toward increasing health and milk output. 

Cows are perfectly suited to walk through pastures feeding on grass, converting this substance (inedible to humans) into protein-rich foods. Pastured cattle are environmentally beneficial for many reasons. The pasture itself reduces greenhouse gasses via carbon sequestration which more than offsets the cattle’s methane, especially when compared to feedlot animals. In fact pastures do a much better job of retaining topsoil, improving soil fertility and removing carbon dioxide from the air than cultivated farmland. Not to mention that grassfed cattle live healthier, more natural lives. It’s a win-win, easier on the environment as well as the conscience. 

For two-kilowatts, try a cheap solar panel. This technology doesn’t moo sadly as its calf is taken away nor smell the grass just beyond a lifetime of confinement. Try some humanity. 


 

 

 

 

Refried Beans (a favorite with my family) 

 
2 cups raw pinto or black beans (or mixture)

olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

3 cloves garlic, chopped

2 teaspoons ground cumin

a hefty dash of dry chipotle powder or cayenne powder

1 teaspoon sea salt


Dump the beans in a colander, rinse well and check for stones. This is a wonderful job to assign young children. They enjoy the tactile pleasure of running their fingers over beans in the colander as water pours on them. 

Then put beans in a large pot, cover with water and bring to a boil. You can do this the night before, which speeds the next day’s cooking process. If you have time, let the beans sit in the hot water to soak at least till the water cools. Then drain the cooking water, cover them again with fresh water and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down and let them simmer until done, usually about an hour and a half. (Two batches of cooking water increases the digestibility of the beans I’m told.)  Don’t store beans too long. Old dried beans of any variety take a very long time to cook and lose flavor. 

 
Anyway, drain the cooked beans and get on with it. Heat some oil in a frying pan. Add the onion and cook till translucent. Add the garlic. Then get out your handy blender. Toss the onion and garlic mess in the blender with a bit of water. Whirl it around. Dump this into a large bowl, adding the spices and salt. If you prefer, put a cup or more of whole beans into that bowl for some texture. Then start blending the beans in batches. Depending on your blender, you’ll have to add a decent amount of water to even encourage it to run. At least a cup of water to every two and a half cups of beans. Don’t worry if the beans seem too thin. The thinner they are, the longer you’ll bake them to reduce the moisture content. You’re aiming for cooked oatmeal thickness now. After they’re cooked, you’re aiming for mashed potato thickness. 


Once you have the rest of the beans blended and scraped into your bowl, mix everything together. Then scoop into a heavy casserole dish that has been pan sprayed. Bake at 350 for an hour or two. You’ll need to mix every half hour or so while they bake, scraping the dry refried beans from sides and bottom to rejoin their beanie friends in the middle. These beans thicken a bit as they cool. 

 
Serve as a make-your-own-burrito meal with all the fixings. Or stuff into bell pepper halves with fresh corn, salsa and cilantro topped with cheese. Or serve with chips and salsa. Or roll into enchiladas. Or do what you’d like.  We always make a triple or quadruple batch of these beans.

 

Toss In What You Have Beans 

olive oil

1 large onion, red preferred

2 or more cloves garlic

1 teaspoon whole cumin seeds (optional)

1 large bell pepper

3 cups cooked beans---black beans, black-eyed peas, pinto beans or mixture is good

1 pint home canned tomatoes and hot chili peppers, OR 
     Rotel tomatoes and chili peppers OR 2 fresh tomatoes,
     chopped plus one small minced hot chili pepper

1/2 cup cranberries, chopped OR 1 small ripe mango, diced

1 teaspoon sea salt

¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional)

2 small cooked sweet potatoes, diced OR 1 ½ cup cooked
    quinoa, brown rice or pasta 

 Heat oil in large pot, add onion and cook till translucent. Add garlic, cook a minute or two longer. Then add cumin seeds and bell pepper. Cook, careful to avoid burning cumin seeds. Mix in beans, tomatoes and chilis, cranberries and salt. Simmer 10 minutes or so. Stir in cilantro and starch of choice. Heat through. This is better then next day when flavors have blended. Wonderfully colorful with cranberries, mixed beans, cilantro and sweet potato. 

 


 

 

Chocolate Beanie Squares  (delicious and flour-free) 

There are recipes out there for bean brownies. But really, don’t call them brownies, because they don’t have the texture of brownies. You’re asking to have your dessert rejected. And if possible, enjoy the real pleasure of subversive cooking and don’t tell anyone there are beans in the dessert until AFTER they’ve enjoyed eating. Then chuckle all you want. 


1 ½ cups cooked, drained beans (navy beans, garbanzo beans, black beans, pinto beans)

3 eggs

¼ cup butter, melted

¼ cup cocoa powder

dash salt

 ½ teaspoon baking powder

EITHER dash of vanilla extract OR dash peppermint oil

½ cup honey

¼ cup mini chocolate chips or shaved chocolate

6 ounces milk chocolate chips or shaved high quality
    chocolate

Option (when using vanilla, not peppermint) ½ cup peanut butter, divided

Put beans, eggs and butter in blender. Pulverize into smooth slurry. Dump out into mixing bowl. Add cocoa powder, salt, baking powder and mix. Add honey and chocolate chips, mix. Now for your choices.  

MINT: If you are making mint squares, add the mint oil, scrape the batter into a prepared (greased or sprayed) 8 x 8 pan and bake at 350 for approximately 20 to 30 minutes, just until the middle is firm but not dry.  As soon as your remove the pan from the oven, sprinkle the 6 ounces of milk chocolate evenly over the top. Immediately cover the top with a cookie sheet to hold in the heat. After a minute or two, remove the cookie sheet and spread the melted chocolate with a knife. For an extra spectacular presentation, sprinkle with peppermint candy canes you’ve heartlessly chopped into pieces. Cut when cool.

 
PEANUT BUTTER: If you are making peanut butter squares, add the vanilla extract and mix in ¼ cup of the peanut butter. (It helps to melt it a bit or toss it in the blender in the bean step---now I tell you.) Scrape the batter into a prepared (greased or sprayed) 8 x 8 pan and bake at 350 for approximately 20 to 30 minutes, just until the middle is firm but not dry.  As soon as your remove the pan from the oven, sprinkle the 6 ounces of milk chocolate evenly over the top along with dollops of the remaining ¼ cup peanut butter. Immediately cover the top with a cookie sheet to hold in the heat. After a minute or two, remove the cookie sheet and spread the melted chocolate with a knife. Cut when cool.

 

 

Make all the bean jokes you want. I live with fans of Blazing Saddles, The Onion and XKCD online comics. Chewing and guffawing are a constant around here.










 

Isabelle turned 12 not long ago. She spends her days as she chooses, munching last summer's hay with her two calves or resting on a comfortable bed of straw in the barn. 

She seems to enjoy winter weather. Sometimes Isabelle stays out in a snowstorm as if contemplating whatever it is bovines contemplate. She stands looking peacefully off in the distance, steam from her nostrils joining white swirling snowflakes. She's seen enough seasons to know that spring will return, bringing fresh grass to the pastures around her. 


Isabelle's life was recently described on Culinate. Sadly her pastoral existence isn't the norm for dairy cows, as this Alternet piece explains. Expedience and short term gain cannot guide our practices. Nature teaches us to approach life with respect for wisdom we can only barely comprehend. Isabelle teaches us every day. 

We don’t eat raspberries in the winter. 


It’s simple. They don’t grow the in the winter. We eat locally as much as possible, so that means if we haven’t canned or frozen raspberries from last summer’s harvest we’ll wait until they ripen again. 

Eating locally isn’t a trend. It’s a return to a way of life that makes sense. 


Why is it worth the trouble?

1. Save energy and reduce your carbon footprint. Food travels an average of 1,500 miles before reaching the consumer's fork. Combination foods travel even farther. One study found that the sugar, yogurt and strawberries in fruit yogurt traveled over 2,200 miles.

Buying locally can slash these numbers by more than 90 percent. It isn't hard to buy local yogurt, honey and fruit to mix up a homemade snack. This also cuts down on global warming gasses, making the end product more sustainable. In fact, the World Watch Institute reports that a typical North American meal uses up to 17 times more fossil fuel than a locally sourced meal.

2. Preserve flavor. Because today's crops are grown to be shipped long distances, growers plant varieties that will survive transport best. That means the peaches are not grown for flavor but hardiness, the tomatoes are chosen for their thick skins and standardized size. Growers pick produce long before natural ripening. The taste suffers even more during cold storage and shipping. As a result, who really wants to eat the cardboard-like fruits and vegetables available most of the year at the supermarket? Few of us know what straight-off-the-vine grapes taste like, not many of us have ever tried freshly picked sweet corn or cherries still warm from the sun.

But when you buy locally, you get a powerhouse of flavor. Farmers can pick the fruits and vegetables at peak ripeness because their customers are an hour or two away. The taste will convince you that buying foods in season from local growers is the only choice worth making.

3. Gain nutrients. According to USDA data, random samples of fruits and vegetables show 26 percent less calcium, 36 percent less iron and 29 percent less vitamin C compared to 1975. Not only do food crops need to reach peak nutritional levels by fully ripening on the plant, recent studies have shown that organic farming methods lead to improved nutrient levels. A four year, 25 million dollar study conducted by researchers at the Tesco Centre for Organic Agriculture at Newcastle University, United Kingdom found that organically grown foods contain higher levels of cancer fighting and heart healthy antioxidants. The study concluded that, compared to standard commercially grown fruits and vegetables, organic produce has on average 40 percent more antioxidants. Other studies have shown similar results for animal products. Consult Eat Wild at (http://www.eatwild.com/) for similar results pertaining to pastured, organic milk, meat and eggs.

4. Preserve family farms. For every dollar spent on food, approximately a dime goes to the farmer. The remaining 90 cents has a lot to do with profits made by corporations when wholesome food are converted into high calorie, low-nutrient products.

Local growers who find direct sales for their products with restaurateurs, farmers' markets and grocers can get full retail price for their food, meaning they can afford to remain on the land. This maintains the bedrock lifestyle that formed this country. Only one percent of Americans now farm as their primary occupation. Get to know the farmers who grow your food when you join a CSA, buy on the farm or see the growers week after week at market stands. You can ask questions about how your food has been grown, find out how to prepare it and learn what it takes to support non-industrialized food in this country.

5. Help your local economy. Money spent on processed foods and products produced elsewhere does little to sustain your local economy. One study followed the funds spent on food as it persisted in the local economy. It was found that a dollar spent at a supermarket was less than half as valuable in local reinvestment as one spent with an area grower or producer.

You also build an invisible economy of connections, people to people, when you are committed to buying locally. Once you are a regular customer at a locally owned bakery, participate in community gardening, and meet up with the same folks each week at a farmers' market, you'll get to know people who live by similar values. These ties support and sustain communities.

6. Understand ecosystems. By voting with your dollar for locally and often organically grown foods you are swaying the marketplace towards sustainable agricultural practices. Such practices include erosion control, cover crops, windbreaks and habitats for natural pollinators. You are proactively making a difference in supporting viable land use.

When you begin to eat seasonally rather than making do with tasteless raspberries in December you are learning to reconnect with natural rhythms. Other than food they preserved, our ancestors ate exactly what came from the surrounding area. Once you eat local foods you begin to cherish the short time that blueberries are ripe, and may master the art of making jam. Winter may find you enjoying root crops and sturdy grains. Our bodies seem to be more in sync when we live in concert with the seasons.

7. Save genetic diversity. While commercial agribusiness relies on a limited number of seed varieties, often genetically modified and patented, local farms can grow any of thousands of varieties passed down for generations. These hardy stocks provide more than flavor and disease resistance, they also are genetically diverse. The potato famine in Ireland taught farmers to use diverse varieties to prevent tragedy. The new seed varieties of agribusiness do not permit diversity nor seed saving. Heirloom varieties are natural insurance for a changing climate and altering global conditions. They also give us a gift of wonderful taste since we are accustomed to the same few varieties. Ever try Wren's Egg beans, Noir des Carmes melons or Tolman Sweet apples? There are literally thousands of heirloom fruits, vegetables, nuts and grains grown on small farms.

How does one get started?

The concept may seem daunting at first. There's no need to jump in full force. Rather than an all or nothing approach, do what you can and increase your commitment as your comfort level grows.

1. One product at a time. If you are accustomed to a diet of convenience foods then take it in moderation. Every time you shop, replace a category of food on your list that is provided by a distant corporate entity with a local provider. If you normally buy bread from a corporate conglomerate, start buying it locally or make it yourself. In another week or two when you are at ease with that change, make another change. Eventually your shift to local food will be complete without disruption or difficulty.

2. Try something new. Explore farmers' markets, the offerings from ethnic restaurants and new ideas from slow food cookbooks. Oftentimes if you are a member of a CSA, you'll find yourself with an abundance of something you haven't used before. A bumper crop of butternut squash will help you discover curried soups and casseroles you hadn't imagined before you had to deal with this nutrient-packed treasure.

3. Preserve. When you have extra you'll find it worthwhile to freeze, can or dry. You'll notice it is also helpful to double recipes so you can make your efforts worthwhile. Try getting together with friends to make spaghetti sauce, chutney or pies. The results can be an excuse for a party or give you plenty to use later.

4. Share the pleasure. Join or create a network of others who appreciate local food and/or slow food, (www.slowfoodusa.org/) .

5. Proceed wisely. Become acquainted with growing times and growers. Once you are familiar with ripening schedules for raspberries, tomatoes, eggplant and your other favorites get to know local growers by visiting farm stands, farmers' markets and orchards. You can get better prices by buying in bulk, going to pick-your-own farms, asking for seconds (smaller apples, oddly sized potatoes, etc) and bidding at produce auctions. To find local farms, Community Supported Agriculture and stores selling locally produced crops consult Local Harvest at (www.localharvest.org/) .

6. Garden. Homesteaders have been eating local food for years and community gardeners haven't been far behind. If you don't have the space for your own garden, locate one near you through the American Community Gardening Association, (http://www.communitygarden.org/) .

7. Curl up with a book. A number of books on the concept of local eating have sprouted on the bestseller lists. Try "The 100-Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating" by Alisa Smith and J.B. Mackinnon, "Coming Home to Eat: The Pleasures and Politics of Local Foods" by Gary Paul Nabhan, or "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver.

Buying local food brings the solution back home. It doesn't assume that corporate or political answers will provide the solution. Polls show a majority of us care deeply about the environment and health. Now our day-to-day decisions are beginning to reflect this consciousness. Each time a choice is made to eat healthy, locally grown food we put sustainability on the menu.

 

Why We Walk the Dogs 

 

Yawning, you say you’re too tired 

yet we can’t refuse

brown-eyed pleading at the door.

 

Away from these walls we more easily silence

sorrow, hardship, loss

by looking, only looking.

 

Cows in the lower pasture raise their heads as we pass.

A Baltimore oriole alights on a hickory fencepost

twined with yellow flowers. The sun stretches

generous arms of light cloud to cloud.

 

The old dog walks alongside,

as the puppy bounds through ditches

up hillsides, joyously muddy

collecting scents for his dreams.

 

When grief or fear catches in my throat

I remember to look at the sky

letting higher possibilities

hover over our steps.

 

Then through evening brightness

dozens of blue and green dragonflies

swoop around us in some unknown ritual.

We wonder which of nature’s perfect gestures---

migration, mating, defense---this may be. 

Standing in the middle of our complicated lives,

we feel a lift of hope requiring no effort

and turn toward home, wide awake.

 

Laura Grace Weldon  


published EarthSpeak Magazine 
Autumn 2009

http://www.earthspeakmagazine.com/sequinoxwhywe1.htm




Creative Commons image 

 

"As long as I live I'll hear the birds & the winds & the waterfalls sing. I'll interpret the rocks & learn the language of flood & storm & avalanche. I'll make the acquaintance of the wild gardens & the glaciers & get as near to the heart of this world as I can.

As so I did.

I sauntered about from rock to rock, from grove to grove, from stream to stream. Whenever I met a new plant I would sit down beside it, hear what it had to tell, make its acquaintance for a minute or a day.

I asked the boulders where they had been & whether they were going. And where night found me there I camped.

I took no more heed to save time or to make haste then did the trees or the stars. This is true freedom. A good practical sort of immortality."

John Muir