4 to 6 green tomatoes
salt and pepper
cornmeal
bacon grease or vegetable oil
Slice the tomatoes into 1/4 - 1/2-inch slices. Salt and pepper them to taste. Dip in meal and fry in hot grease or oil about 3 minutes or until golden on bottom. Gently turn and fry the other side.
From: http://southernfood.about.com/od/greentomatoes/r/bl10712a.htm
Showing posts with label newsletter 18. Show all posts
Showing posts with label newsletter 18. Show all posts
Friday, February 19, 2010
Green Tomato Pie (savory)
-Using a large pan (11” by 17” works well), roll out a pie crust and line pan.
-Slice 8 to 10 green tomatoes, removing stem end.
-Slice two large onions and sauté with ½ stick sweet butter
-Slice 1 lb. Swiss cheese and 1 lb muenster (although this is also good with other cheeses- try cheddar, goat, whatever)
-Sprinkle pie crust lined pan with bread crumbs. Layer tomato slices, cheeses, and sautéed onions in pan. Sprinkle with coarse salt and fresh ground pepper. Also sprinkle 2 Tb. brown sugar. Repeat layers until ingredients are used up or pie pan is full. Top with more bread crumbs and a sprinkle of wine vinegar.
-Roll out a second pie crust to top pie. Crimp edges and slash center to vent. Bake at 375 until brown. If you wish, you can brush top crust with milk to glaze when it begins to brown.
From The Political Palate by the Bloodroot Collective. An old Pennsylvania Dutch recipe.
-Slice 8 to 10 green tomatoes, removing stem end.
-Slice two large onions and sauté with ½ stick sweet butter
-Slice 1 lb. Swiss cheese and 1 lb muenster (although this is also good with other cheeses- try cheddar, goat, whatever)
-Sprinkle pie crust lined pan with bread crumbs. Layer tomato slices, cheeses, and sautéed onions in pan. Sprinkle with coarse salt and fresh ground pepper. Also sprinkle 2 Tb. brown sugar. Repeat layers until ingredients are used up or pie pan is full. Top with more bread crumbs and a sprinkle of wine vinegar.
-Roll out a second pie crust to top pie. Crimp edges and slash center to vent. Bake at 375 until brown. If you wish, you can brush top crust with milk to glaze when it begins to brown.
From The Political Palate by the Bloodroot Collective. An old Pennsylvania Dutch recipe.
Kale and Ricotta Salata Salad
-3/4 to 1 pound lacinato kale (also called Tuscan kale) or tender regular kale, stems and center ribs discarded
-2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot
-1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
-1/4 teaspoon salt
-1/4 teaspoon black pepper
-4 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
-2 ounces coarsely grated ricotta salata (1 cup)
Working in batches, cut kale crosswise into very thin slices.
Whisk together shallot, lemon juice, salt, and pepper in a small bowl, then add oil in a slow stream, whisking until combined well.
Toss kale and ricotta salata in a large bowl with enough dressing to coat well, then season with salt and pepper.
www.epicurious.com
-2 tablespoons finely chopped shallot
-1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
-1/4 teaspoon salt
-1/4 teaspoon black pepper
-4 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
-2 ounces coarsely grated ricotta salata (1 cup)
Working in batches, cut kale crosswise into very thin slices.
Whisk together shallot, lemon juice, salt, and pepper in a small bowl, then add oil in a slow stream, whisking until combined well.
Toss kale and ricotta salata in a large bowl with enough dressing to coat well, then season with salt and pepper.
www.epicurious.com
Easy Preparation of Winter Squash:
Cut squash in half, scoop out seeds and fiber, then bake in a 350° oven for 45 minutes to an hour, until a knife can be easily inserted near the stem. Roast & eat the seeds like pumpkin seeds. Season squash with butter and salt, or maple syrup and cinnamon.
Other quick ideas:
-Steam cubes of winter squash and then dress with olive oil, tamari, ginger and squash seeds.
-Add squash chunks to a hearty vegetable soup
Other quick ideas:
-Steam cubes of winter squash and then dress with olive oil, tamari, ginger and squash seeds.
-Add squash chunks to a hearty vegetable soup
Green Tomato Pie (sweet)
-Pastry for one all-butter, double-crust pie
- 6 medium green tomatoes
- ¾ cup golden raisins
- 1 ½ tsp grated lemon rind
- 2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
- 1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
- 1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
- ¼ cup dark brown sugar
- 4 Tbsp flour
- ½ tsp salt
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1 tsp ground ginger
- 2 Tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small bits
Preheat oven to 425.
Wash the tomatoes and cut them into 1/8 inch thick slices, discarding stem ends. Put the tomato slices in a large mixing bowl and add the raisins, lemon rind, lemon juice and vinegar. Stir and set aside.
Combine the sugars, flour, salt, and spices in a small bowl. Sprinkle 2 Tbsp of this mixture over the prepared pie crust and toss the rest with the sliced tomatoes. Turn into chilled pie crust. Dot with butter. Top with additional pie dough, making slashes for air vents if a solid crust on top. Or make a lattice top to cover the pie.
Bake pie at 425 for 15 minutes. Then reduce the heat to 325 and bake for another 50 minutes, or until the filling is bubbling and the crust is golden brown.
Let the pie cool completely before cutting.
From: Martha Davis Kipcak, SE Wisconsin Slow Food
- 6 medium green tomatoes
- ¾ cup golden raisins
- 1 ½ tsp grated lemon rind
- 2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
- 1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
- 1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
- ¼ cup dark brown sugar
- 4 Tbsp flour
- ½ tsp salt
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1 tsp ground ginger
- 2 Tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small bits
Preheat oven to 425.
Wash the tomatoes and cut them into 1/8 inch thick slices, discarding stem ends. Put the tomato slices in a large mixing bowl and add the raisins, lemon rind, lemon juice and vinegar. Stir and set aside.
Combine the sugars, flour, salt, and spices in a small bowl. Sprinkle 2 Tbsp of this mixture over the prepared pie crust and toss the rest with the sliced tomatoes. Turn into chilled pie crust. Dot with butter. Top with additional pie dough, making slashes for air vents if a solid crust on top. Or make a lattice top to cover the pie.
Bake pie at 425 for 15 minutes. Then reduce the heat to 325 and bake for another 50 minutes, or until the filling is bubbling and the crust is golden brown.
Let the pie cool completely before cutting.
From: Martha Davis Kipcak, SE Wisconsin Slow Food
Beet and Carrot Pancakes
-1 1/3 cups (packed) coarsely shredded peeled beets (from 2 medium)
-1 cup coarsely shredded peeled carrots (from 2 medium)
-1 cup thinly sliced onion
-1 large egg
-1/2 teaspoon salt
-1/4 teaspoon pepper
-1/4 cup all purpose flour
-3 tablespoons olive oil
-Sour cream
Preheat oven to 300°F. Place baking sheet in oven. Combine beets, carrots and onion in large bowl. Mix in egg, salt and pepper. Add flour; stir to blend well.
Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Using 1/3 cup beet mixture for each pancake, drop 4 pancakes into skillet. Flatten each into 3-inch round. Cook until brown and cooked through, about 4 minutes per side. Transfer pancakes to baking sheet in oven; keep warm. Repeat with remaining beet mixture, making 4 more pancakes.
Serve pancakes with sour cream.
(Bon Appetit, March 1998)
-1 cup coarsely shredded peeled carrots (from 2 medium)
-1 cup thinly sliced onion
-1 large egg
-1/2 teaspoon salt
-1/4 teaspoon pepper
-1/4 cup all purpose flour
-3 tablespoons olive oil
-Sour cream
Preheat oven to 300°F. Place baking sheet in oven. Combine beets, carrots and onion in large bowl. Mix in egg, salt and pepper. Add flour; stir to blend well.
Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Using 1/3 cup beet mixture for each pancake, drop 4 pancakes into skillet. Flatten each into 3-inch round. Cook until brown and cooked through, about 4 minutes per side. Transfer pancakes to baking sheet in oven; keep warm. Repeat with remaining beet mixture, making 4 more pancakes.
Serve pancakes with sour cream.
(Bon Appetit, March 1998)
Celery Root Remoulade
-1 Celeriac
- 2 eggs + 1 egg yolk
- 1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
- 250 ml (1 cup) oil
- 1 tbsp. vinegar
- Chopped parsley (optional)
- Salt and pepper
Peel and slice the celery root (celeriac) into thin julienne strips;
place into a pot of boiling water and let simmer for a few minutes; drain;
hard boil two eggs; drain; run under cold water; shell the eggs and separate the yolks from the whites;
mash the egg yolks into a paste; add one raw egg yolk;
add 1 tbsp. mustard and slowly whisk in 250 ml (1 cup) oil, as for basic mayonnaise; finish with 1 tbsp. vinegar, a little chopped parsley (optional) and salt and pepper;
mix the sauce together with the celery root; refrigerate at least one hour before serving.
(From: http://www.theworldwidegourmet.com/ recipes/celery-root-celeriac-remoulade/)
- 2 eggs + 1 egg yolk
- 1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
- 250 ml (1 cup) oil
- 1 tbsp. vinegar
- Chopped parsley (optional)
- Salt and pepper
Peel and slice the celery root (celeriac) into thin julienne strips;
place into a pot of boiling water and let simmer for a few minutes; drain;
hard boil two eggs; drain; run under cold water; shell the eggs and separate the yolks from the whites;
mash the egg yolks into a paste; add one raw egg yolk;
add 1 tbsp. mustard and slowly whisk in 250 ml (1 cup) oil, as for basic mayonnaise; finish with 1 tbsp. vinegar, a little chopped parsley (optional) and salt and pepper;
mix the sauce together with the celery root; refrigerate at least one hour before serving.
(From: http://www.theworldwidegourmet.com/ recipes/celery-root-celeriac-remoulade/)
Plant Profile: Celeriac
By Nina Berryman
“What is this?” was a common exclamation during last week’s pick up as people laid eyes on celeriac for the first time. Celeriac, also known as celery root, is a little known vegetable closely related to celery. For any of you who have not dared to try it yet, do not judge it by its gnarly appearance, it is actually quite delicious! Celery and celeriac are actually subspecies of the same species, Apium graveolens. Celery has been selectively bred for its stalk whereas celeriac has been selectively bred for its roots. They are members of the Apiaceae family (formerly known as Umbellliferaceae), which also includes dill, carrot, cilantro, parsnips and parsley. This family was previously known as Umbelliferaceae because the flowers grow in umbels, which is the botanical name for flowers that grow in a cluster that is the shape of an umbrella. Think of the wild flower Queen Anne’s Lace, which is also in this family. You will be hard pressed to see the flowers of a celeriac plant though, because they are biennials, meaning they do not flower until their second year. Unless you are interested in seed saving, most farmers will harvest celeriac as soon as it is ready to eat, which is after about 100 days. This is one of our slowest growing crops on the farm. It stores exceptionally well, either in your house after it is picked, or in the ground over the winter. The bulb can be eaten cooked or raw, and the stalks are great for making soup stock.
Source:
Ashworth, Susan, Seed to Seed. Seed Savers Exchange. 2002.
“What is this?” was a common exclamation during last week’s pick up as people laid eyes on celeriac for the first time. Celeriac, also known as celery root, is a little known vegetable closely related to celery. For any of you who have not dared to try it yet, do not judge it by its gnarly appearance, it is actually quite delicious! Celery and celeriac are actually subspecies of the same species, Apium graveolens. Celery has been selectively bred for its stalk whereas celeriac has been selectively bred for its roots. They are members of the Apiaceae family (formerly known as Umbellliferaceae), which also includes dill, carrot, cilantro, parsnips and parsley. This family was previously known as Umbelliferaceae because the flowers grow in umbels, which is the botanical name for flowers that grow in a cluster that is the shape of an umbrella. Think of the wild flower Queen Anne’s Lace, which is also in this family. You will be hard pressed to see the flowers of a celeriac plant though, because they are biennials, meaning they do not flower until their second year. Unless you are interested in seed saving, most farmers will harvest celeriac as soon as it is ready to eat, which is after about 100 days. This is one of our slowest growing crops on the farm. It stores exceptionally well, either in your house after it is picked, or in the ground over the winter. The bulb can be eaten cooked or raw, and the stalks are great for making soup stock.
Source:
Ashworth, Susan, Seed to Seed. Seed Savers Exchange. 2002.
Local Grain
By Nicole Sugerman
Two weekends ago, I traveled to Fernbrook Farm, an organic CSA in New Jersey, with apprentices Megan and Lauren. With Fernbrook’s apprentice, Rob, Lauren has been conducting a small-grains raising experiment this season, and I was excited to tag along for part of the process. They had previously harvested the dry wheat, so we worked on threshing, which is the process of separating the wheat berries from the chaff. While large grain producers have machines that do this work for them, we did it the very, very old fashioned (and labor intensive) way—by beating two-by-fours against the grain on a sheet, until the wheat berries all fell loose from the chaff and cracked open in their hulls. Other techniques for small scale threshing include smashing the grain inside a pillowcase, having an animal or person repeatedly walk on the grain, or putting the grain between two tarps and running over it in your car (!). This last way seemed like it had the potential to go very wrong, so we did not try it.
Next, Lauren and Rob will winnow the grain, or separate it from the pieces of chaff and hulls it now resides with in a five-gallon bucket. On a small scale, this is usually accomplished by running a window fan or catching a breezy day and pouring the wheatberries from one bucket to another—the chaff will be blown away in the breeze, while the heavier berries will fall to the bucket below. After that, they will grind the wheat into flour, a formidable process on its own without a large-scale grain mill. Grains on a small scale are a lot of fun, but also a lot of work.
The idea of local grains has long been seductive to me. The challenges are many- we completely lack a local grain processing infrastructure, and grain is traditionally produced on a scale for which our region lacks the space. Still, I think an urban grain project would be really exciting, and more and more people are catching the ‘local grain’ bug. Daisy Flour, an old Pennsylvania flour company using a grain mill that has been operating since the 1750’s, has recently been reintroduced, producing organic, PA-grown wheat and spelt flours in Lancaster County. The Heritage Wheat Conservancy is researching traditional wheat types grown in New England, growing test crops to try to re-introduce climate-specific, regional wheat varieties. I follow the progress of efforts like these with enthusiasm, but knowing next to nothing about raising grain, have pegged it as a topic for winter reading. I hope to experiment with growing my own small grains in the future, and hope that, someday, we will see the existence of a Philadelphia-based local grain project.
Learn More About Local Grain
Web Resources:
Daisy Flour:
http://daisyflour.com/
Heritage Wheat Conservancy:
http://growseed.org/
Further Reading:
“Flour That Has The Flavor of Home”
The New York Times, September 2008
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9E04EFD91038F933A2575AC0A96E9C8B63&scp=1&sq=&st=nyt
"Small Scale Grain Raising"
Gene Logsdon
Chelsea Green Publishing
Two weekends ago, I traveled to Fernbrook Farm, an organic CSA in New Jersey, with apprentices Megan and Lauren. With Fernbrook’s apprentice, Rob, Lauren has been conducting a small-grains raising experiment this season, and I was excited to tag along for part of the process. They had previously harvested the dry wheat, so we worked on threshing, which is the process of separating the wheat berries from the chaff. While large grain producers have machines that do this work for them, we did it the very, very old fashioned (and labor intensive) way—by beating two-by-fours against the grain on a sheet, until the wheat berries all fell loose from the chaff and cracked open in their hulls. Other techniques for small scale threshing include smashing the grain inside a pillowcase, having an animal or person repeatedly walk on the grain, or putting the grain between two tarps and running over it in your car (!). This last way seemed like it had the potential to go very wrong, so we did not try it.
Next, Lauren and Rob will winnow the grain, or separate it from the pieces of chaff and hulls it now resides with in a five-gallon bucket. On a small scale, this is usually accomplished by running a window fan or catching a breezy day and pouring the wheatberries from one bucket to another—the chaff will be blown away in the breeze, while the heavier berries will fall to the bucket below. After that, they will grind the wheat into flour, a formidable process on its own without a large-scale grain mill. Grains on a small scale are a lot of fun, but also a lot of work.
The idea of local grains has long been seductive to me. The challenges are many- we completely lack a local grain processing infrastructure, and grain is traditionally produced on a scale for which our region lacks the space. Still, I think an urban grain project would be really exciting, and more and more people are catching the ‘local grain’ bug. Daisy Flour, an old Pennsylvania flour company using a grain mill that has been operating since the 1750’s, has recently been reintroduced, producing organic, PA-grown wheat and spelt flours in Lancaster County. The Heritage Wheat Conservancy is researching traditional wheat types grown in New England, growing test crops to try to re-introduce climate-specific, regional wheat varieties. I follow the progress of efforts like these with enthusiasm, but knowing next to nothing about raising grain, have pegged it as a topic for winter reading. I hope to experiment with growing my own small grains in the future, and hope that, someday, we will see the existence of a Philadelphia-based local grain project.
Learn More About Local Grain
Web Resources:
Daisy Flour:
http://daisyflour.com/
Heritage Wheat Conservancy:
http://growseed.org/
Further Reading:
“Flour That Has The Flavor of Home”
The New York Times, September 2008
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9E04EFD91038F933A2575AC0A96E9C8B63&scp=1&sq=&st=nyt
"Small Scale Grain Raising"
Gene Logsdon
Chelsea Green Publishing
Autumn on the Farm
By Nicole Sugerman
Fall does not officially begin until the Fall Equinox, which will happen on the 22nd of this month. On this day, the Earth tilts neither toward nor away from the Sun, the equator lining up precisely beneath the Sun as we orbit. After the Equinox, our hemisphere will begin to tilt away from the Sun, bringing us colder temperatures and increasingly fewer minutes of sunlight each day, until we reach the shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice.
While this information is interesting in an astronomical sense, it matters very little to our attitudes on the farm. For me, fall has arrived, and I have been in a fall mindset since the very first day of September. On September 2nd, I cooked a big pot of winter squash stew, ate apple crisp, and thought to myself, “whew. I made it through the summer.” Since then, I stubbornly wear my flannel shirt every day, despite this week’s return to summery temperature highs in the 80’s. The feeling of fall is reinforced by the fact that it is still dark out when we wake up now, and the cooler nights make our beds feel pretty cozy and somewhat hard to leave. The difficulty in wakeing up is one of the few drawbacks to the fall, however. While many see the approach of colder temperatures as a time defined by slight melancholy, fall is an exciting and high-spirit time here on the farm.
Activity-wise, planting has pretty much ended for the season. We seeded our last plantings of beets and carrots two weeks ago, and are poised to plant out our last flats of lettuce and our last fifty feet of radishes this week, ending our outdoor planting for the entire season. Being free from the need to keep up with our planting schedule gives us more time to cultivate our existing crops, getting the weeds under control and making the farm look neater and the plants happier. We are also starting to take finished beds out of production, clearing out the existing plants and sowing our cover crops, mixes of legumes and grasses, which will stabilize the bare soil from erosion, shade out weeds, fix nitrogen, and add organic matter when we till them into the beds in the spring. We use two cover crop combinations on the farm; beds that we will plant into early next spring get a mixture of oats and field peas, both of which will grow now, die during the winter, and leave us with cleared beds when the ground thaws next spring. We will plant the other beds in a mix of winter rye and hairy vetch, which will survive the winter and continue to grow until we cut it down next spring, ready for planting in the late spring or early summer.
Usually, September does not feel quite so decidedly fall-like. Last season, although our cool-weather crops were starting to return (cooking greens, radishes, and look out for the impending return of turnips), our summer crops lasted much longer into the fall. September still meant epic tomato harvests and abundant bell peppers. The strangely cool, wet summer this year means that many of our summer crops are dying earlier than they ideally would. We are about to rip out most of the barely-producing tomato plants, and the summer squash has tapered off dramatically. Not to worry, though; the season has lots of fall favorites in store, like fennel, broccoli, and bok choi, as well as some more unusual choices, like daikon radish and more of the celeriac that you all tried last week. We are in bitter battles with the deer (yup—they just now found our farm after a blissfully deer-free summer) for the edamame, and our determination in fighting harlequin bugs for our broccoli-family crops seems to be paying off.
Battling with harlequin bugs reminds me ofone of the most exciting aspects of fall—school is back in session! We are glad to welcome Saul students back to the farm, where they can pick up where they left off last spring. Working with entire classes of students is a very different experience than the intimacy of working with our five Saul summer interns, but it brings vitality, excitement, and many hard working additional hands to the farm. The 11th grade agroecology students spent a day of class hand-picking harlequin bugs off of the cauliflower, cabbage, and broccoli plants with us last week—so think of them when you eat these crops later this season.
The first few seasons of my farming career, fall was an admittedly sadder time. I felt anxious that, uncertain what I would be doing the next year, it might be my last season on a farm. “This might be the last turnip I will ever harvest,” I would think sentimentally, “or the last time I will pull grass out of the salad mix.” Starting the wind-down of my second season farming in Philadelphia, the fall feels satisfying and exciting with the knowledge that I will keep farming. Now is the time for us to reflect on what is going well this season, with a constant eye on improvement and innovation for next year. We are starting to think of new crops we want to try, new systems we want to implement, and the possibilities for building on what we started this season. The fall is just another stage in a cycle, where we concentrate on soil fertility and long-term management to make the farm more productive and healthy in the seasons ahead.
Fall does not officially begin until the Fall Equinox, which will happen on the 22nd of this month. On this day, the Earth tilts neither toward nor away from the Sun, the equator lining up precisely beneath the Sun as we orbit. After the Equinox, our hemisphere will begin to tilt away from the Sun, bringing us colder temperatures and increasingly fewer minutes of sunlight each day, until we reach the shortest day of the year, the Winter Solstice.
While this information is interesting in an astronomical sense, it matters very little to our attitudes on the farm. For me, fall has arrived, and I have been in a fall mindset since the very first day of September. On September 2nd, I cooked a big pot of winter squash stew, ate apple crisp, and thought to myself, “whew. I made it through the summer.” Since then, I stubbornly wear my flannel shirt every day, despite this week’s return to summery temperature highs in the 80’s. The feeling of fall is reinforced by the fact that it is still dark out when we wake up now, and the cooler nights make our beds feel pretty cozy and somewhat hard to leave. The difficulty in wakeing up is one of the few drawbacks to the fall, however. While many see the approach of colder temperatures as a time defined by slight melancholy, fall is an exciting and high-spirit time here on the farm.
Activity-wise, planting has pretty much ended for the season. We seeded our last plantings of beets and carrots two weeks ago, and are poised to plant out our last flats of lettuce and our last fifty feet of radishes this week, ending our outdoor planting for the entire season. Being free from the need to keep up with our planting schedule gives us more time to cultivate our existing crops, getting the weeds under control and making the farm look neater and the plants happier. We are also starting to take finished beds out of production, clearing out the existing plants and sowing our cover crops, mixes of legumes and grasses, which will stabilize the bare soil from erosion, shade out weeds, fix nitrogen, and add organic matter when we till them into the beds in the spring. We use two cover crop combinations on the farm; beds that we will plant into early next spring get a mixture of oats and field peas, both of which will grow now, die during the winter, and leave us with cleared beds when the ground thaws next spring. We will plant the other beds in a mix of winter rye and hairy vetch, which will survive the winter and continue to grow until we cut it down next spring, ready for planting in the late spring or early summer.
Usually, September does not feel quite so decidedly fall-like. Last season, although our cool-weather crops were starting to return (cooking greens, radishes, and look out for the impending return of turnips), our summer crops lasted much longer into the fall. September still meant epic tomato harvests and abundant bell peppers. The strangely cool, wet summer this year means that many of our summer crops are dying earlier than they ideally would. We are about to rip out most of the barely-producing tomato plants, and the summer squash has tapered off dramatically. Not to worry, though; the season has lots of fall favorites in store, like fennel, broccoli, and bok choi, as well as some more unusual choices, like daikon radish and more of the celeriac that you all tried last week. We are in bitter battles with the deer (yup—they just now found our farm after a blissfully deer-free summer) for the edamame, and our determination in fighting harlequin bugs for our broccoli-family crops seems to be paying off.
Battling with harlequin bugs reminds me ofone of the most exciting aspects of fall—school is back in session! We are glad to welcome Saul students back to the farm, where they can pick up where they left off last spring. Working with entire classes of students is a very different experience than the intimacy of working with our five Saul summer interns, but it brings vitality, excitement, and many hard working additional hands to the farm. The 11th grade agroecology students spent a day of class hand-picking harlequin bugs off of the cauliflower, cabbage, and broccoli plants with us last week—so think of them when you eat these crops later this season.
The first few seasons of my farming career, fall was an admittedly sadder time. I felt anxious that, uncertain what I would be doing the next year, it might be my last season on a farm. “This might be the last turnip I will ever harvest,” I would think sentimentally, “or the last time I will pull grass out of the salad mix.” Starting the wind-down of my second season farming in Philadelphia, the fall feels satisfying and exciting with the knowledge that I will keep farming. Now is the time for us to reflect on what is going well this season, with a constant eye on improvement and innovation for next year. We are starting to think of new crops we want to try, new systems we want to implement, and the possibilities for building on what we started this season. The fall is just another stage in a cycle, where we concentrate on soil fertility and long-term management to make the farm more productive and healthy in the seasons ahead.
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