The wire framework is made from 5′ wide remesh, which comes in 150′ rolls. The wire frames are covered with 6 mil polyethylene sheeting; a weight at each end an another section of wire mesh thrown over the top keeps the plastic from blowing away when the wind blows. The row covers not only provide additional warmth during the days and protect from frost at night. They also keep the soil from becoming soggy and compacted from the rains, keeping the soil loose and fluffy.

We’re now harvesting lettuces we planted out as seedlings late last fall.

We planted spinach at the same time, but it mostly got eaten by voles. A few surviving plants are finally beginning to send out new leaves.

In early January, we planted out a new set of seedlings which should be ready about the time the bed we’re harvesting now is done.

We grow mostly loose leaf lettuces to be harvested leaf by leaf: Australian Yellow, Black-Seeded Simpson, Flashy Butter Oak, Royal Oak Leaf, New Red Fire, Merlot, Red Sails. We’ve also planted a couple of head lettuces: Anuenue, a batavian; and Winter Density, a romaine type.

After years of frustration, mâche is finally thriving beneath the Solexx row cover.

In the greenhouse, seedlings are growing for the next planting of mâche, lettuces, and spinach.

And we’ve started other seeds as well, so plants will be ready to transplant out when the weather warms up in spring: onions, scallions, shallots, and leeks; pak choy; a selection of tomatoes; and a few sweet peppers. Normally we wouldn’t start tomatoes and peppers this early, but rather wait until temperatures warmed up a bit in March. But a friend loaned us a home-made heat mat, and since we’ve now got an outlet in the greenhouse we just had to give it a try. We’ll see what kind of germination rate we get.

]]> http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2012/02/09/lettuces-abound-in-the-february-garden/feed/ 0 http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2012/02/02/how-did-the-solarium-perform/ http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2012/02/02/how-did-the-solarium-perform/#comments Thu, 02 Feb 2012 19:32:38 +0000 jim http://casafoodshed.org/?p=7392 The worst of the cold weather is probably behind us, as spring approaches. The sun is out, and thoughts once again turn to the garden. It’s timely to review: how did our solarium perform over the short days and freezing nights of winter?

Adding thermal mass proved not to be enough to protect tender plants if outside temperatures dropped below ~25°. For the coldest nights, we needed to come up with a supplementary heat source. We use brooder lamps for ducklings. Why wouldn’t the same concept work for plants?

Electricity was the primary problem: a source wasn’t readily available, and providing a permanent hookup didn’t seem worth the cost or effort since power was needed only a few nights out of the year. So I wired an outlet at the solarium ceiling for two heat lamps to hang above our most sensitive citrus, an Improved Meyer Lemon and an Owari Satsuma Mandarin from One Green World that we planted right in the ground.

Power is provided when needed by plugging as extension cord into a male receptacle in a weatherproof exterior “inlet”.

This system works so well that we’ve moved into the solarium all of the cold-sensitive plants that we previously overwintered in the greenhouse. Space is at a premium in this 7′ x 7′ structure, so we’ve had to be inventive. Around the Yuzu Ichandrin, we installed shelving for pots . . .

. . . and above, a piece of ¾” pipe serves to hang containers.

Staggering the height of the plants allows more to be squeezed in along the pipe.

In the ground within the solarium, we’ve been growing herbs all winter long, herbs that otherwise wouldn’t grow in winter: cilantro, parsley, and an herb form of celery.

Fresh “cutting” or “soup” celery is great to have in the garden as celery, along with carrots and onions, are the three essential aromatic vegetables used in making stocks and sauces. Buying a whole head of celery in the store is wasteful. Although a good market will let you buy one stalk at a time, we’re a long way from a market. So keeping fresh celery on hand would otherwise be a challenge. Now all we have to do when celery is called for is wander outside -  with the solarium, any time of the year – pluck a few stalks, and tie them together with other herbs in a bouquet garni. Nichols has the seeds: VCE185, Afina. Plant seeds once, and from then on the celery will self-seed prolifically.

An added benefit: as long as I was wiring the solarium, I installed an outlet in the adjacent greenhouse to provide power for a heat mat. A heat mat will enable us to begin sprouting seeds in early February, a month earlier than would otherwise be possible. So it’s now time to begin perusing the seed catalogs and planning for spring plantings. Nichols and Territorial, here we come!

It’s December, you’ve got a hundred pounds of sauerkraut sitting in the cellar. Now what? How often can you stomach sauerkraut with sausage?

We’ve found that we really like sauerkraut prepared with a variety of meats: pork belly, sausage, ribs of all kinds – pork, beef, lamb – and poultry, especially duck. Duck hindquarters work well, as they are best braised. The other day non-pork eating friends visitd. Sauerkraut with our own Muscovy duck seemed the perfect treat.

Since there were to be eight of us, we used the wings as well as the hindquarters, to ensure we had enough meat to go around.

Sauerkraut with Muscovy Duck

1.5 liters sauerkraut
2 Muscovy ducks
2  medium onions, diced (we substituted leeks)
1 apple, peeled and diced
12 juniper berries, crushed
2 whole cloves
1 small bit nutmeg, crushed
2 bay leaves
1 C duck stock (chicken stock, if you don’t have duck stock)
1 C white wine
Salt and pepper to taste

Rinse sauerkraut well (three times in fresh water) and drain.
Cut wings and hindquarters off carcass. Remove duck breasts and save for another meal. Reserve duck carcass for stock or soup. Trim duck fat and save.
Trim upper part of wing from lower 2/3, reserving middle part and wing tip for soup or stock. Separate leg from thigh; chop thigh into two pieces.
Render duck fat.
Brown duck pieces; when browned, remove.
Add diced onions and cook, stirring, until softened.
Add apple and cook a bit, then sauerkraut. Cook for  a few minutes, stirring.
Splash with white wine; add stock, then browned duck pieces, bay leaf, juniper berries, cloves and nutmeg.
Bring to simmer and cook, covered, for 1½ hours or until duck is tender. Season to taste.
Serve with mashed potatoes and a nice little pinot noir.

Here’s the finished product.

This recipe would work equally well with a stewing chicken, game hens, or a small turkey, and would be even tastier with the addition of some pork or sausage. The possible permutations are endless, offering myriad ways to enjoy your summer garden all winter long.

Here’s the noble bird, before being sliced and served.

That’s a 20 pound, free range turkey from Joe and Karen’s Rain Shadow El Rancho, processed right on site at their own facility that does poultry other area producers as well (including our ducks). The turkey was Joe and Karen’s contribution to the dinner. Isn’t it wonderful to be part of a great community?

The photo shows the beer drinkers’ table. As you can see the beer is pretty local – Deschutes Brewery Black Butte Porter from just over the hill in Bend, smooth and creamy, perfect on a cold day while relaxing snug and toasty by the wood stove. Never fear, the La Ferme Noire Pinot Noir was flowing freely as well.

Each of the 20 guests brought something – in particular, I thought Kim’s chocolate chili was killer, even if it’s not what one might associate with Thanksgiving. It deserves to become a La Ferme Noire tradition – we’ll have to ask Kim for the recipe.

Irina made the beautiful orange soup in the photo.

AUTUMN SQUASH BISQUE WITH GINGER

Ingredients

2 tsp vegetable oil
2 cups sliced onion or leek
2 pounds winter squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 2 inch cubes (= 4 generous cups)
2 pears peeled, cored & diced
2 gloves garlic, peeled and crushed
2 tbsp fresh ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped (or 1 tsp powdered ginger)
½ tsp thyme
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup water
1 tbsp lemon juice
½ cup plain non-fat yogurt (Greek yogurt is best)
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation

1. Heat oil in large pot over medium heat
2. Add onions (leeks) and garlic and cook, stirring constantly until softened, 3-4 minutes
3. Add squash, pears, ginger and thyme, cook for 1 minute, stirring
4. Add broth and water; bring to a simmer
5. Reduce heat to low, cover pot and simmer until squash is tender, 35-45 minutes
6. Purée soup, if necessary in batches, in a food processor or blender
7. Return soup to pot and heat through. Season with salt, pepper and lemon juice; stir
8. Garnish each serving with a spoonful of yogurt

My contribution was to cook the turkey. Here’s how:

 Two or three days before cooking:

1. Trim off wing tips, the neck, and Pope’s nose.
2. Dry  turkey inside and out and rub skin and cavity with a mixture of about 2 T coarse sea salt and 1 T of freshly crushed black peppercorns.
3. Put turkey on a rack inside a pan and then uncovered into the refrigerator to dry (this helps the skin to turn crispy during roasting).
4. Right then make the sauce. Throw turkey trimmings and giblets into a roasting pan, along with coarsely chopped carrots, celery, and onion.
5. Roast in a hot (~400°) oven until well browned and caramelized.
6. When turkey bits and vegetables are all well browned, removes from oven and place roasting pan on a burner. Splash in about a quarter bottle of dry white wine (an open bottle of pinot gris was handy) and scrape brown bits off the bottom of the pan with wooden spoon until they are dissolved in liquid.
7. Add chicken or other poultry stock (we had a couple of containers of chicken and duck stock in the freezer – a good quality store-bought stock such as Kirkland is okay, too) until turkey parts and vegetables are immersed and you have enough liquid for your sauce.
8. Add herbs and spices:  parsley, thyme, and bay leaf from the garden, a couple of whole cloves, perhaps a piece of star anise.
9. Bring to a boil and simmer for three hours or so.
10. Strain through a colander into another container and let cool.
11. When settled, spoon off the fat layer on top.
12. Refrigerate stock until ready to use. Having the stock finished on Monday means a lot less fussing when company is around on Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving Day:

1. Take turkey out of the refrigerator in the morning to warm to room temperature before going into the oven.
2. About two hours before serving place turkey, breast-down, on a rack in a roasting pan. Add ~two cups of prepared stock. Put into a pre-heated 450° oven, immediately reducing heat to 375°.
3. 45 minutes later, flip the turkey so it’s breast-side up.
4. About an hour and a half after going into the oven, the turkey will be done. An instant reading thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the flesh where the thigh connects with the body should register 150°. The result: a beautifully browned, tender, moist, and juicy bird.
5. Remove turkey to a warm platter and cover loosely.
6. While the bird rests a bit before slicing, bring the prepared stock and juices from roasting pan to a simmer.
7. Thicken sauce (I like to thicken with corn starch rather than flour – it’s easier to control and I think results in a more refined texture). Put a couple of heaping fork fulls of corn starch into a small container, add cold water, whisk with a fork until dissolved, then drizzle into the simmering stock while stirring. Let cook a couple of minutes until stock thickens.  Repeat until you get the texture you want.
8. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

For ease of carving and serving I first remove the hindquarters from the carcass, and then each breast in one piece.

Then the turkey is a snap to slice. You had to be quick: all the dark meat disappeared first.

And of course we had plenty of Irina’s famous bread, fresh, warm, and crusty from the oven.

Party animals that we all are these days, we had cleaned up and were in bed by nine.

The next day, the turkey carcass and all the leftover bones and trimmings went into the stock pot, along with aromatic vegetables (carrots, onions, and celery), fresh herbs (thyme, parsley, bay leaf), and a couple of whole cloves. A couple or three hours later, I strained the stock, set the bones aside to cool a bit, and put the stock back on the stove. I added a handful of barley (grown by our friends Paul and Nonie), sliced leeks, and diced carrots and turnips, all from the garden. When the turkey bones had cooled enough, I picked off the meat and added that to the pot, and then some diced potatoes. Simmer a bit more, until the potatoes are tender. Et voila! Turkey soup!

We’re now in to December, and we’re still harvesting broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower from the garden – in fact, we have a new crop coming on, from the seedlings we transplanted out in August.

It’s pretty nice not to be dependent on the supermarket for vegetables, even in December. And really nice not to have to drive, or to travel at all, to get them. They’re right outside the door, fresh as can be.

Firewood is cut, split, and stacked. Chimneys are swept and wood stoves cleaned.

We’re processing tomatoes from the garden into salsa, stored in jars in the cellar; and into tomato sauce, for the freezer. This year, for the first time, production of peppers, cilantro, and basil is keeping up with the tomatoes.

Garlic, onions, shallots, and potatoes are already hanging in the cellar. Squash vines are beginning to wither, and we’ll soon gather winter squash to be stored away. We’ve already put up one batch of sauerkraut, and two more are fermenting away.

We’ve been eating lemon cucumbers and summer squash. Corn has been late this year, but is finally coming in. We’ve been harvesting broccoli and cauliflower, and should start harvesting Brussels sprouts soon. As an experiment, this year we started and planted out another crop of broccoli, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts, to see if we can grow them through the winter and into next spring. Dry beans should soon be ready for picking and shucking. Our green bean crop was a total failure, succumbing to gophers this year.

The solarium is finally finished . . .

. . . and beginning to be planted.

Two years ago – before the solarium was in the works – we planted an Asian pear tree, in a spot which inconveniently turned out to be right front of the solarium door. It will have to be moved to a new home this winter.

With leftover Solexx sheeting, I threw together a row cover . . .

. . . which I think I’ll use to grow mâche this winter. The mâche, along with lettuces and spinach, have been started and are growing in the greenhouse, to be transplanted out when ready.

We’ve been replanting and picking lettuces and spinach all summer long.

In the vineyard, grapes are just now turning color.

I recall that in the late ’90s and early years of this century, veraison happened around mid-August. But the last few years, it seems to be happening later and later. In what turned out to be the great and bounteous vintage of 2008, veraison was around September 8. That was really late; we had resigned ourselves to not making wine that year, until a late and extended warm and dry spell turned dross into gold. 2011 is two weeks behind 2008. We’ll see . . .

A big project for us while the weather holds out is replacing a failed septic system. This involves a new drain field . . .

. . . as well as a new tank.

That’s our friend John Powell doing the work. The puppy – Zephyr – belongs to friends living in town who need a puppy-sitter for a few weeks. She’s really “digging” being a farm dog. Reverting to city life is going to require a tough adjustment.

It’s that time of the year when we almost have more than we can eat, share, put up, give away, or feed to the ducks and sheep.

We’ve already got one batch of sauerkraut fermenting. Our new, stainless steel krauthobel was a joy to work with. Shed one head  into bus tub, add a little salt (1.5 oz per pound of cabbage) and mix, dump into sterilized crock, repeat until done.

The traditional wooden one Cousin Doris sent us last year from Germany was fine for a couple or three heads, but swelled as it became saturated and became more and more difficult to slide. Finally, the joints came unglued and it fell apart.

We picked only half the cabbage in our cabbage patch because that’s all our one crock could accommodate. The second crock that we bought new to use last year seeped – so we returned it as soon as the kraut could be taken out.  But now we’ve got another, pre-owned #10 crock, in great condition, found at the Antiques Mall in Albany. You can count on the old ones not seeping.

It’s been hard to find time to sit at the computer, writing blog posts. This time of the year, there’s more to do on the farm than there is time to do it, and I find myself rather working outside than sitting at my desk. But farm work leaves the mind free for thinking. I’ve been asking myself, what is the purpose of this blog, and why continue to do it?

We’re beyond the point where there’s any hope of inducing the changes we need to make as a society to deal with the realities of peak oil and climate change. The minds of the deniers will remain unpersuaded until the bitter end, and undoubtedly even beyond. To avert climate change, we would have to implement plans to cease burning fossil fuels immediately, bringing the global economy to a grinding halt. That’s just not going to happen, regardless of how catastrophic the consequences of not doing so. The consequence of failing to plan, on a societal level, for the inevitable involuntary halt in the consumption of fossil fuels, is the social and economic disruptions that are beginning to evidence themselves around the globe.

The aim of this blog is to chronicle how peak oil and climate change are playing themselves out. I seek to highlight the economic manifestations of peak oil, putting them in the broader context which most economists fail to see.  I want to communicate the signs of global warming and the climate changes it is inducing, as those signs manifest themselves.

And finally, I want to share with others our personal efforts to effect the change that we do have control over, to reflect on the changes we can make in our own lives that heighten our freedom of action and increase our flexibility to respond to an unknown future. The hope still remains that humans might not screw Earth’s climate up so badly that survival becomes impossible or pointless.

In light of the realization that we need to stop trying to “save the planet” and instead just realize our place in it, I’m thinking of my calling as Lebenskünstler. Life is an art form, to be lived as poetry. Paul Kingsnorth at Dark Mountain Project explains:

This is what [poetry] means: to counter the progressive narrative with all its fixations on expansion and control, on windfarms and transistor radios and electric cars and superstores and growth and measurement by results. To have time on our hands to sink into other ways of seeing. Poetry is the still point, the pole around which the chaos runs and circles, and the duty of the poet is to remain still, to watch, to report back in language which distills the essence of the movements all around her.

I may not have the soul of a poet. But perhaps I can chronicle. We can all sit.  Each of us has the capability to realize the mystery and the beauty within which we find ourselves. We all can do what we can. And that’s all anybody can expect.

Peas and onions; leeks and shallots; cabbages, carrots and bush beans; first planting of corn and flageolet beans; tomatoes; broccoli, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. The bed at the bottom left awaits warmer weather for peppers.

More tomatoes, under the cold frames.

Soil temperature is now 76° in the raised beds, whereas soil temperature in the ground is 67°. In the raised beds, soil temperatures are warm enough to get good germination on warm-weather crops such as beans and corn. I’ve found this chart to be very informative and useful.

The chart explains why we have a tough time germinating lettuce in the ground in the summer. We designed the greenhouse to keep cool in the summer as well as warm in the winter, to better germinate cool-weather crops like lettuces even in hot weather. That way we can replant seedlings in the garden every couple of weeks before the older lettuces bolt, maintaining a constant supply of tender young greens throughout the summer and then into autumn and winter.

The deer fence isn’t keeping gophers out.

Gophers did a number on the roots of that poor cabbage. Luckily we’ve got a few back-up starts left in the greenhouse.

The one bed at the back still needs compost added and working. One mama Muscovy who had made her nest in the compost pile ventured out from under the covering tarp a couple of days ago, five ducklings in tow.

The other mama Muscovy, on a warm & sunny day last weekend, rolled her eggs out from under their protective tarp. This morning, mama and her dozen eggs were gone – nothing left but scattered feathers. I suspect a fox. The mama in the stump is still okay, and another mama is now (wisely) sitting inside the duck shed, where she’s safe.

A sad loss, not only of an adult female Muscovy but of a bevy of incipient ducklings.  That’s life and death on the farm. As consolation, I can now get at the compost pile, finish up the last raised bed, and get the squashes and cucumbers planted.

Here’s where great compost starts, with mucking out the sheep shed.

It’s no job for old men.

Young men seem to be scarce when it comes to this kind of work, and are most certainly not seasoned (or maybe scarred) enough to find joy in it.

Mucking the shed yields a big pile of manure.

A year later, alchemy – shit has transformed into black gold.

The payout continues for years after, in the form of the freshest,  most nutritious, and most delicious of food.

]]> http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2011/06/10/manure-into-gold/feed/ 0 http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2011/05/12/down-in-the-dirt-hope-springs-eternal/ http://casafoodshed.org/archives/2011/05/12/down-in-the-dirt-hope-springs-eternal/#comments Thu, 12 May 2011 19:51:59 +0000 jim http://casafoodshed.org/?p=6479 At the moment, the world seems to be stuck in “groundhog day” mode. Catastrophes and crises are now the norm. Witness the 9.0 earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in March, coupled with the ever-worsening horror of Fukushima that threatens to never end; the epic outbreak of tornadoes in Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee and the record-breaking flooding along the Mississippi at the same time Texas is burning in the grip of record-breaking drought. In Europe, the economic crisis embroiling Ireland, Greece, Portugal is  threatening not only to spread, but to bring down the Euro and perhaps the EU itself – and political leaders are at a complete loss for what to do. In the U.S., our politics are consumed with the same endless, repetitive inanities over irrelevancies that have dominated public discourse for decades now, while the real problems that loom over us – peak oil, climate change, ecological devastation, economic collapse, a hopelessly corrupt sick care system, obscene inequality, and corporate domination – go ignored and unaddressed.

Yet still, outside the sun is shining, finally. After a cold and wet spring, thoughts again return to the garden. Some crops are already being picked, like lettuces.

The re-mesh covers keep the deer from getting them before we do. Until a few days ago, a plastic sheet laid over the re-mesh acted as a cold frame, protecting the tender young lettuces from the elements. As you can see, garlic, mache, and spinach are coming along as well.

We’ve been eating fresh asparagus, too.

Our seed potatoes were starting to sprout a couple of weeks ago, so we had to muck them in despite the rain and cold. Now the sprouts are beginning to stick there heads above the ground.

Now that it’s mid-May, we’re finally getting bud break in the vineyard – three weeks at least later than normal.

One big plus to being laid off a couple of weeks ago is that I now have time to do all the work around the farm that was getting neglected while I was watching over events in the legislature – an inevitably disappointing, dispiriting, and ultimately futile exercise. With my time once again my own, I was able to finish the project of relocating our main garden to an area we could fence to keep deer out.

The fence is 8′ high. We had a couple rolls of woven-wire fencing left over from fencing the perimeter of the property when we first purchased it. The gate was a remnant of a long-abandoned kennel we erected for our black lab Pinot when he first arrived (silly us, thinking he would sleep outside rather than share our bedroom). All we had to purchase were the poles, which ran about $10 each, wood and steel alike. We also needed 10 yards of compost to fill the raised beds, much more than we had on hand. John Powell found a local source of organic compost made from cow and sheep manure and straw, and delivered it right where we needed it. Our Holcomb silt loam soil, blended with the compost, is rich and beautiful stuff indeed. I’ve got one bed worked up, now planted with snow peas and sugar snaps. I’ll work up the remainder of the beds and, as the sun becomes more reliable and the soil warms up a bit, direct seed crops like carrots and plant out the starts (cabbages, tomatoes, peppers, onions, etc.) now growing in the greenhouse.

Oregon is a darn good place for subsistence-style farming, for family use or for small-scale trade. First, there are the fertile soils, the amenable weather, and relatively abundant water. Land is relatively inexpensive – especially in east Linn County, which is why we could afford to live here – and many, many properties contain cheap, derelict dwellings, waiting to be rescued and renovated. Farm and forest deferral programs result in property taxes being incredibly low, provided the dwelling is modest. Because Oregon relies on income taxes rather than sales taxes, the state tax burden for subsistence farmers is also low – little or no income, no state income tax. Similarly, limited income means limited or no federal income or employment tax burdens.

Global, national, or even state and local issues may be beyond our reach or control. But we are blessed to be able to survive -nay, thrive – right here.

The grape harvest was a complete fiasco. Despite an extraordinarily cool spring and late veraison, warm and dry weather in late September and early October held promise that a not-too-heavy crop would ripen. Brix hit 19° during the first week of October – another week or 10 days would get it to a perfectly acceptable ideal 21°.

Then the birds moved in. No problem, the propane canon always works. Nonchalantly, I set the canon out in the vineyard and go about my business. A few days later, I walk through the vineyard to take stock. The grapes are gone.

If I had paid attention to what was going on,  I could have dropped whatever else I was doing and patrolled the vineyard with a shotgun from dawn to dust for a week popping off the occasional starling or robin, a small investment in relation to the already-sunk investment in pruning, spraying, and trellising. But complacency means we’ll get perhaps 10 gallons of pinot this year instead of the two or three barrels that were in prospect.

Lesson: Pay attention! Don’t assume that what worked in the past will work this year.

Deer proved a challenge this year, as well. Spraying repellent on the vines once a week managed to prevent serious damage to the vineyard, but you can’t spray blood on vegetables you’re going to eat. Our strategy was to protect rows of crops with wire hoops made from remesh. Remesh works great to make coldframes, the wire mesh supporting plastic sheets under which we set out lettuces and other tender vegetables in early spring, tomato starts a bit later. When the weather gets warm enough, simply take the plastic sheets off and you’ve got a deer guard.

Lettuce and spinach under cold frame, peas under wire mesh

Two problems:  1) plants – peas, tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, turnips, parsnips, even carrots – eventually grow up through the mesh, where they can be chomped off; and 2) the 4″ mesh, which is nice because it’s big enough to get your hands through to weed and pick, is also big enough so deer can get their snouts through.

Undamaged broccoli juxtaposed to cauliflower eaten by deer. Finer mesh prevents additional damage.

Brainstorm: deer can’t walk through the mesh hoops, and don’t seem to like risking jumping over them. What about a mesh field, surrounding the garden? This proved marginally effective.  To really work, you had to completely surround the area with an impenetrable maze of mesh. This became increasingly expensive, and increasingly clumsy. The mesh proved better at keeping us out of the garden than the deer.

Lesson: Protect the garden with a deer-proof fence. Anything less is futile. Since this is not possible where the garden is now, that means abandoning the raised beds and the soil we’ve been building for years, and moving the garden, starting over in a new location. We’ve already got the spot picked out. The raised beds will be used only for things deer don’t like or that can be well protected: herbs, cabbages, lettuces, maybe squashes and cucumbers. And flowers.

What worked out well this year? Cabbages: we harvested a bumper crop, and have ample sauerkraut for the winter. Winter squashes: again, ample stores in the cellar to last the winter. Lemon cucumbers: delicious cool, crisp salads all summer, and some pickled for storage. Leeks: they’re keeping well out in the garden, and we’re using them in just about everything. Broccoli and cauliflower, aside from the deer. Artichokes, which are now protected by a cold frame so hopefully they will become a perennial rather than an annual crop.

Artichokes protected in straw under cold frame

Ducks seem to be another successful experiment. They are proving able to forage well for themselves so they don’t require the purchase of much feed, are beginning to scour the garden for slugs and bugs, and are easy to care for,. not much trouble, fun to have around – and, as a bonus, lay a few eggs every day and provide meat on the occasion.

We had success this year starting many seedlings in the greenhouse and setting them out early, so as to get an early harvest. But for crops like cabbages, leeks, carrots, parsnips, and turnips, that can be good keepers either in the ground or in the cellar throughout the winter, it’s not necessary or even desirable for them to ripen early. Better to wait a bit. And for home consumption as opposed to for market, it’s better to plant crops periodically, so you harvest a little over a long period of time rather than a lot all at once.  We planted lettuce every week in seed trays in the greenhouse, transplanting the seedlings out throughout the summer as earlier plantings began to bolt. And now we’ve got a goodly amount under cold frame, which could survive and supply us with salad throughout the winter unless we get a really nasty cold snap. But we planted all the broccoli and cauliflower at the same time, ending up with more than we could possibly eat.

Maybe next year, we’ll finally begin to know what we’re doing.

We transplanted the starts out of the greenhouse and into the garden in March and April – first lettuces, peas and tomatoes under cold frames; then onion, leek & garlic starts, cauliflower and cabbages. Due to the cold, soggy spring, the winter & summer squash and cucumbers didn’t go out until late May. Bean seeds then went directly into the ground, along with red, white, and yellow potatoes.

We’ve been eating fresh lettuces since May, and are now steadily replanting every couple of weeks, growing them under a shade cloth (which seems to help retard bolting). The asparagus we let go around the first of July, to gain strength for next year. We’ve been digging potatoes and picking raspberries since early July. Mid-July, we harvested the garlic – the braids are now hanging in the wine/root cellar. We also pulled the spring crop of peas in Mid-July, at the same time planting seeds in the greenhouse for a fall crop. Luckily, green beans are now starting to come on, as are summer squash. We should have our first tomatoes by early August. If the jalapeños and cilantro cooperate, we’ll soon be swimming in pico de gallo. And the pansies, violas, and nasturtiums we started in the greenhouse from seed are now blooming like crazy, along with the sunflowers. This year we serendipitously planted the sunflowers in rows along one side of the garden – and they’ve proved to be an effective deer fence!

Last weekend we harvested the “Stonehead” cabbage and started a big batch of Sauerkraut. After watching us struggle last year trying to shred cabbage in a food processor, Cousin Doris sent us a Krauthobel from Germany – kind of a big, wooden mandolin. Here it is in operation.

Add about three tablespoons of sea salt for every five pounds of cabbage, and then from the bus tub into the crock.

40 pounds of cabbage was enough to pretty much fill a #8 crock.

The “Megaton” cabbages should be ready to harvest in a week or so. Since our one and only ceramic crock is full, we’ll have to fall back on a 20-gallon food grade plastic container that we’ve been using to store flour. Hopefully this year we’ll have enough Sauerkraut to last well into the new year, rather than running out before the holiday season.

Turn your back this time of the year, and the grape vines want to take over the universe. I’ve been getting up at six o’clock in the morning now for the last few weeks, spending a couple of hours before heading to the office trying to get things back under control. At least the vines are now growing faster than the deer can eat them. I’m dreaming of mid-August, when I’ll again be able to sleep in a bit.

The big culinary hit this year has been a variation on the Alsatian/German Flammkuchen, a kind of “pizza” traditionally made with crème fraîche, Speck, and onions, seasoned with a little fresh nutmeg. I first tasted Flammkuchen at a little jazz club called the Musikantenbuckel, literally underground in an ancient stone building in the tiny village of Oberotterbach, Germany. We’ve ever since attempted to replicate that, substituting well trimmed, uncured pork belly for the unobtainable Speck – not really the same, but American bacon is way too smoky. We tried first boiling bacon to remove some of the smokiness, but have since settled on using uncured pork belly, well-trimmed to remove most of the fat. When vegetarian friends were visiting we made a version using fresh, locally gathered or grown mushrooms (golden oyster, white elm, and morels) and fresh leeks. It was so fabulous it has now become a permanent part of our repertoire.