Kale
Kohlrabi
Fennel
Carrots
Brussel Sprouts
Pie Pumpkins (New England, Long Island, and Futzu)
Victory Bees Honey from Pickpocket Farm
And however many green tomatoes you would like.
Enjoy!
For the last week of harvest, we got a nice frost last night to sweeten the crops. In the shares this week we have: Kale Kohlrabi Fennel Carrots Brussel Sprouts Pie Pumpkins (New England, Long Island, and Futzu) Victory Bees Honey from Pickpocket Farm And however many green tomatoes you would like. Enjoy! Harvest Festival Highlights
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Pickpocket Farm has served so many purposes in the last four years: feeding the community, therapeutic weeding, inspirations for poetry, stewarding the land, and many more. Next year is bringing some changes and with that the closing of Pickpocket Farm.
In late January 2014, my daughter Lexi, will undergo spinal surgery for her nuero-muscular scoliosis. There will most likely be a two month recovery period, which will fall during the time when much planning and greenhouse growing takes place for the farm. To make the healing process much easier for everyone, the farm will close for the 2014 season. I'm not sure what will come about for the following 2015 growing season. As soon as I figure it out and know, I will let you know too. I think my essay Simple Acts, posted in the previous blog, sums up my dedication and feelings for the farm nicely. Thank you everyone for supporting the farm. Disclaimer: As of October 22nd, after 12 long years, Lexi was diagnosed with PCDH19 Female Limited Epilepsy. More about the disorder can be found on their website.
Here is an essay I submitted to Creative Nonfiction this past May 2013 for a national contest on Sustainability. There were 500 submissions, and sadly mine was not among the five chosen essays, but I can now share it with you on my website. The warm New Hampshire soil, frozen solid as granite for many months of the year, welcomed our hands as we maneuvered our fingers to pull the tiny growing weeds from amongst the even tinier carrot seedlings. On that warm day, in late June 2010, Wendy McCormack, my volunteer, and I caught up on our winter adventures. Work. Vacations. Family. Friends. Our voices rise and fall, joining the chatter of the birds and the occasional neigh from the nearby stable. A swallow flies overhead; we are in the center of its vision. To our north the furrows meet the paddocks of a horse farm; to our south the hay field stretches toward a neighbor’s barn; to our east the woodlands of Exeter stretch skyward, and to our west this farm meets Pickpocket Road, the country road for which it is named. It’s four acres of heaven on earth. On Pickpocket Farm, in Brentwood, New Hampshire, I’ve created a place where my reality and my vision are one. A Community Supported Agriculture (C.S.A.) farm, I grow food for seventeen families who pay up front for a weekly share of organic vegetable harvest, which lasts from June through October. In tune with the seasons, the shares reflect Mother Nature’s temperament and my ability to accommodate her mood swings. At the peak of the season, the heirloom tomatoes pile up like multi-colored croquet balls, revealing colors and patterns of red, yellow, orange and green stripes. They crown my small hand-pulled cart. Often, while pulling the fully loaded cart to the hill’s crest where the small barn sits, I experience a moment of clarity, when I know why I do what I do. I can reach for a Green Zebra tomato, handpicked and warmed by the sun, and say to my girls, “You can’t buy that at the grocery store.” On that June morning, as we bent over the carrot patch, the conversation turned to the recent BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. The night before I had read about toxic rain, which could travel northward from the Gulf, and how it might affect the farms of New England, 1500 miles away. I feared for the health of the farm. Almost a year later, NASA released a report confirming the formation of toxic rain, a result of the chemicals and dispersants used to eliminate the spill and the natural cycles of evaporation and precipitation. Although New England farms were fortunate not to have felt the direct effect, farms to the south suffered. I wonder, what will be the long-lasting effects—to the soil, the farm crops and the seafood harvests from the water? Will we be affected and just not realize it? But I mostly wonder, will human nature be the death of us or will we learn to come together and heal our planet? I am now a steward of this land, although this sense of personal responsibility for the land and the ecology of the planet happened over the years of growing up. As a child, I was chastised if I littered, or if I left the water running while I brushed my teeth. Family trips focused on exploring the great outdoors, from coast to coast; from Acadia National Park in Maine, to the Sequoia National Forest in California. I grew up in all corners of the United States with widely different eco-systems. I remember running down the path through the woods to the family garden in Massachusetts, scattering the rabbits who liked the tender peas and lettuces as much as I did, hoping to save them from my father’s sling-shot. My senior year of high school, in suburban Washington D.C., was capped by a large, revival Earth Day celebration in the nation’s capital. I was there with my peers, helping organize and making posters, but in honest retrospection, my attendance stemmed as much from my desire to sunbathe on the National Mall with my boyfriend, Travis, while listening to some amazing bands, as much as it focused on environmental awareness. It was actually Travis’s younger sister, Meagan, who as a reward for her leadership skills, was allowed to be a rock star gofer. And it was her involvement and a specific behind-the-scenes account that sparked some amusement and critical thinking. At this time, Natalie Merchant of the band 10,000 Maniacs expressed an obsession for Evian water. This was long before the general public understood the ways bottled water hurt the environment. Merchant asked Meagan for a bottle of Evian to drink, and Meagan was unable to find one. When she handed Merchant a different leading brand, Meagan was scolded. After more searching, Meagan found an empty Evian bottle, which she quickly filled with tap water from the nation’s capitol. Merchant gratefully accepted it and was none the wiser. According to National Geographic, America uses 17 million barrels of crude oil annually to make the 29 billion plastic bottles Americans drink from and toss yearly (only about 13 percent are recycled). Moreover, the water inside of these bottles isn’t guaranteed safe. 22% of bottled water contains levels of contaminants that exceed most states’ public health limits. One study found hormone-disrupting phthalates leached into the water from plastic bottles stored for only ten weeks. The public’s response to this concerning data has been slow to gain momentum. However, as of January 2013, and almost twenty-three years after the 1990 national Earth Day celebration, the city of Concord, Massachusetts became the first city in the nation to ban all sales of plastic water bottles within city limits, citing public health concerns, as well as the need to reduce plastic waste and the use of the fossil fuels employed in the production and distribution of bottled water. I see it fitting that Concord, home to the start of the Revolutionary War and naturalist Henry Thoreau, is again leading the way. When in college at Virginia Tech, I truly embraced environmental activism. I picked up a summer job with U.S. PIRG in Washington D.C., which involved canvassing area neighborhoods and grassroots work, all of which facilitated the passage of the Clean Air and Clean Water Act amendments of 1992. In Blacksburg, I rode in the Blacksburg Area Recycling Coop truck, collecting leftover recyclables from Blacksburg restaurants because the city had no recycling program at the time. And, in the summer of 1992, I stayed a few nights at a friend’s house on the Chesapeake Bay. A family member was researching the declining oyster population of the bay. During this time period, it was also announced that the Maryland Blue Crab had undergone a population free fall. My everyday life, and some of my best memories—of friends, Old Bay Seasoned Crabs, and good beer—were now inextricably intertwined with environmental concerns. More than twenty years after the events of that summer, I found myself, on a snowy January evening, in Exeter, New Hampshire, at the Blue Moon Evolution, a local restaurant, for which I provide some of the vegetables from my farm. I’d been invited to hear Barton Seaver, author of For Cod and Country, speak. He told me, in a conversation afterwards, about the success of the “Save a Crab, Then Eat ‘Em” campaign. The Maryland Blue Crab population has since rebounded to a level not seen since 1990. A few months later, in April, I read a report that ran counter to this. This past season, the Maryland Blue Crab population had plunged by 61% over the prior years’ gains. William C. Baker, President of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation claimed, “While progress has been made, the Chesapeake Bay remains dangerously out of balance.” My work on the farm has led me to recognize just how much our environment is out of balance, and to seek ways to restore that balance. I am simply one of many citizens of the world engaged in the active restoration of the world’s ecosystems. When I look at my small farm and think about all the work that goes into the organic production of food for a few local families, it is daunting to envision the overall impact of such climate change. I often wonder if my work, however small, can stem this seemingly steady march towards environmental destruction. Scientific reports are many and varied, but all share similar concerns and pinpoint man as the main cause of the earth’s environmental degradation. The earth’s CO2 levels have risen to almost 400 parts per million since the Industrial Revolution. Prior to this man-made revolution, the CO2 level was consistently below 300 parts per million for the previous 800,000 years! Many scientists and environmental advocates, among whom Bill McKibbon is but one, agree: CO2 levels must be lowered to 350 parts per million, or life on earth will be forever altered, even made impossible, or, at best, very challenging. I live the challenging life, and I believe much of what has happened to me, my family, my friends, and to the world community stems from this world out-of-balance. My farm exists because it is my reaction to events that seem out my personal control. It is my contribution, my conscious act of creation and rebellion. It is my desire to make better what it is currently, and it is my way into the future. It is about my children, and my children’s children, and about everyone and everything on this planet. It is about making sense of the senseless. October 30, 2001. A week past my due date. I exit the shower and check my watch. Again. Only another five minutes since my abdomen tightened, taking my breath away. I check my packed bag for the umpteenth time. Finally, we head to Portsmouth Regional Hospital to meet our first baby. My husband and I had it all planned out: Lamaze breathing, soothing music, a camcorder to record the event. A water bath; maybe even a water birth. I couldn’t stop smiling. Years later, my husband Rob came up from the basement, holding a dusty box of VHS videos. He slid one out, saying excitedly, “Let’s watch this one.” I glance at what’s written on the side: “Lexi’s birth.” Okay, I say hesitantly. The scene brightens on the television, and we are in a sunlit hospital room. My stomach is stretched to its max with a newborn growing inside of it; I’m wearing routine hospital garb. I’m giggling, and laughter spills out with every word I speak on the TV. I am so excited to meet our first baby girl, Lexi. “I can’t watch this, “ I say, tears filling my eyes. I walk out of the room. Numb. August 2002. My heart beats as I race down route 495 to Rob’s work at Northeast Rehab at Saint Mary’s Nursing Home in Methuen, Massachusetts. The large 2’ x 1’ manila envelope sits on the passenger seat. It contains Lexi’s MRI results. I smirk, thinking about the office assistant who handed the results to me, who hadn’t thought twice about it. “What have I done? “ I thought. The doctor was supposed to review the results before hand, before handing over the raw results. I glance back at 10 month old, Lexi in her car seat, serenely, looking out the window with her ice-blue eyes shielded by long black eyelashes. I’d learned enough in my neurobiology classes at Virginia Tech to know that Diffuse Cerebral Atrophy was not good. Now I have three daughters. Lexi, now age eleven, is genetically undiagnosed to this day. She battles seizures, a swallowing disorder that necessitates feeding by a g-tube, and global developmental delays. She is non-verbal, and she needs assistance with everything related to her daily life. She has also taught me more about life than anyone I know. Her two younger sisters, Bella and Shayla, are vibrant and energetic. I struggle to keep up with their daily antics. I find myself joking with them in the early morning, before my first cup of coffee, “Stop singing and being so happy!” Because I have a daughter with significant undiagnosed medical issues, I cannot help but read articles about the rise of autism and developmental delay and potential causes. In 2002 the CDC reported the autism rate as one out of 150, but now, in 2013, autism is found in one out of every 50 kids. The CDC also reports that developmental delay has increased 17 percent in the last decade. In March 2013 UCLA published a study linking ubiquitous automobile traffic related air pollution exposure to increased incidences of autism in children. An advocacy organization, the Environmental Working Group, in a study, found an average of 200 industrial chemicals in the umbilical cords of ten babies born in 2004. We expose our bodies to man-made toxins that change us physically at alarming rates, yet we are slow to make changes to stop the harm. Why is this? And so, with absolutely no family history of genetic disorders of any kind in either my or my husband’s families, I wonder why my daughter wound up with such significant medical issues. To me, on looking back upon all I’ve learned and at what I continue to learn, the answer seems simple: exposure to toxic chemicals, such as the ones found in cosmetics, the pesticides used in conventional food production, and the phthalates found in plastics, contribute to making us all sick and the world out-of-balance. The long-time director of the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association, Russell Libby states, “We have to challenge the idea that contamination is just the price of living in the modern world. Our bodies don’t have systems to process plastics or flame-retardants or pesticides. If contamination is the price of modern society, modern society has failed us.” The memoir Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, the scientific journalism expounded within The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollen, and the message of individuals, such as Sharon Astyk, who reduced her own carbon use footprint by 90% inspired me to change my life. I wanted to live by the words, “think globally, act locally” and to embody Ralph Waldo Emerson’s quote, “actions speak louder than words.” But, as we all cannot live in sustainably green compounds, such as owned by George W. Bush in Texas. I had to start on a small scale. I began to eat local to reduce our family’s carbon footprint and to shield us from many of the toxins found in everyday life. I could afford to do this, in a monetary and literal sense, and this small transformation of my family’s life brought me to the center of more local revolution. In a dimly lit and crowded small apartment on the New Hampshire Seacoast in 2007, ten like-minded individuals are curled in chairs and sitting on the floor to discuss small-scale farming, the rise of the eating local movement, how to best connect consumers to local farmers. Seacoast Eat Local was born. A collection of artists and local farmers, a librarian, a chef, a yoga instructor, and one stay-at-home mom: me. My imagination transported me back to the time of the American Revolutionary War, a time when freemasons met in secret locations on the New Hampshire seacoast to discuss reactions to the looming British invasion. And although we were not worried about a war, we were concerned. We were worried about the direction in which our health and the health of our planet were moving. We started small and with clearly defined goals: to make local food available to all people and to build a sustainable community, economy, environment, and local food system. In 2009, our illustrious host and leader, Sara Zoe Patterson was listed as one of the New Hampshire Union Leader’s Forty under Forty young and influential leaders of the State of New Hampshire. During the time of our fledgling movement, she fortified us with amazing homemade dinners, like Gumbo, BLT Turkey sandwiches and side dishes of Butternut Squash Macaroni and Cheese. She referred to us as the Agents of the Revolution. Now, six years later, we are a non-profit 501c-3. We have pinky sworn to continue to be respectful of one another, to use our super-powers for good, and to carry out our mission. We meet in an official space now. We produce a 36-page Seacoast Harvest guide, listing almost 200 local farms, along with information about the area’s farmer’s markets, CSA’s, and when and where local foods are available. In winter we organize and run ten Winter Farmers’ Markets (yes, New Hampshire does have locally grown foods in the winter). The Winter Farmers’ Market in Rollinsford is the largest in the area, with up to 60 vendors selling only local food grown and produced in the Seacoast area. We even provide a shuttle to help everyone get there. And SNAP/EBT, an electronic system that can access consumer’s governmental benefits, is at the markets, which makes the highest quality locally grown and produced foods available to all income levels. I founded Pickpocket Farm in 2009, and my vision, to feed local families while helping my own, is now my reality. My kitchen counter, table, refrigerator, and freezer overflow with cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchini, and summer squash, with names like Boston Pickler, Pineapple Rainbow, Raven, and Zephyr. Last year, I even teased some ginger to grow in my hoop house. I’ve traded in my Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology from Virginia Tech and my Master’s Degree in Education from Rivier College, as well as my career as a high school special education teacher, for my stewardship of the land on my own organic farm. I don’t think I will ever be able to prove Lexi was born with some kind of genetic disorder due to overexposure to environmental toxins, and maybe she was destined to a life with medical issues due to a naturally occurring but random genetic mutation. But as a farmer now, I see how life sometimes just happens. In a strange way, I find it comforting to find an odd but growing plant on the farm. This tells me genetics and nature work in strange ways and that life keeps going. Our farm’s tenant, Sister Ruth Anne, who lives in our in-law apartment, has made it her life’s work to allow people with significant developmental delays to grow into the fullest person they are meant to be. She believes spirituality cannot be defined and it is found when a person is able to “look, listen and just be.” I find that spirituality when Lexi lies under the stand of fir trees, listening to the wind rustling through them. And I find it every day when I work on the farm. Under the strict direction of Mother Nature, I do my part. I’ve learned there is only so much I can control. Most days, I feel helpless and pessimistic. I worry the people of the world will not rise up together in a movement to improve the world. So many people. So many individual concerns. So many local and global problems. Where do we begin? And yet, I act. I put those carrot seeds in the ground, year-in and year-out; I weed them and water them; I harvest them and share them. I find solace in this simple act. Charles Duhrigg, author of The Power of Habit writes, “A movement starts because of the social habits of friendship and the strong ties between close acquaintances. It grows because of the habits of a community, and the weak ties that hold neighborhoods and clans together. And it endures because a movement’s leaders give participants new habits that create a fresh sense of identity and a feeling of ownership.” I do what I do because I was meant to do this. As the swallows fly above us, as we tend to the crops, our movements become just one more part of the wider circle of life, on Pickpocket Farm, on Pickpocket Road, and beyond. We attempted to grow artichokes this summer at Pickpocket Farm and while we have 20 very healthy artichoke plants growing, the year is coming to a close sooner than the plants would like. The plants will not have enough time to produce the artichokes we were hoping for. Therefore, the farm's work share, Wendy McCormack, came up with the great idea of an adoption program. We are looking for share members and volunteers who would be interested in keeping an artichoke in a pot for the winter. Then we will replant them in the spring and enjoy our efforts with artichoke dip. Artichokes are typically a biennial, which means they produce their veggies on the 2nd year of growth. I was told this variety can grow artichokes within one season, but, alas, it never happened. They can stay on the farm until October, or unless we get a frost warning. They won't make it, if it's too cold. They should grow fine indoors from October until May, with some water and TLC. There will be no repercussions if you kill it. There just won't be any artichokes to enjoy. :) Send me a message if you are interested in adopting an artichoke for the winter. We are at the height of the summer season right now and the vegetables are piling high on the harvest cart. The savoy cabbage was not supposed to be ready until September, but as you see, they are HUGE, bursting and begging to be harvested. They will keep for a long time in the fridge, but savoy will not keep as long as the other cabbage varieties. I am including some nice recipes for it below. Lettuce Kale Cherry Tomatoes Tomatoes Summer Squash/Zucchini Sweet Peppers Hot Peppers Purple Top Turnips Onions Cucumbers Savoy Cabbage PYO: Green Beans, Kale, Swiss Chard, Basil, Oregano, Thyme, Sorrel, Tarragon, Mint, and Flowers Farm Update: The field tomatoes are looking so healthy and are filled with green tomatoes. They were off to a slow start with the rainy spring, but I expect any week now that we will be inundated with tomatoes of all kinds. I keep talking to them and telling them to hurry up! There are lots of new seedlings out in the field for a fall harvest, such as broccoli, Chinese cabbage, and kohlrabi. I seeded some arugula and mixed greens out last week and it's already sprouted and is looking fantastic. In the greenhouse, we have spinach, scallions, fennel and lettuce growing. The winter squash is struggling this season, but there are baby squashes on there, so that's good. The potatoes are done growing now, and we should have a healthy crop of those this season. There you have it, still so much more to look forward to! Recipes to try out: Seared Savoy Cabbage with Mixed Sausages Garlic/Ginger Savoy Cabbage Fried Cabbage with Bacon and Onions and Garlic Spicy Cucumber Gazpacho Really like this one! My favorite tomato recipes
My dinner: Addictive Green Curry of Broccoli Soup
Simple and easy are the best ways to go on hot summer days. I found a new favorite website, The Stone Soup, which boasts of clean eating and quick cooking. I will be trying lots more recipes from this site. The Addictive Green Curry of Broccoli Soup was a little too spicy (I love spicy) for my kids tonight, so they got Open-Faced Tomato Cheese Sandwiches with Fresh Cucumber Slices. Addictive Green Curry of Broccoli Soup To make this soup in under 10 minutes, boil water in the kettle to speed things along. When chopping the broccoli, I like to finely slice most of the stems and add them to the pot so I minimise the wastage. 3 – 4 tablespoons green curry paste 1 cup coconut milk 2 heads broccoli, chopped into bight sized trees 2 – 3 tablespoons peanut butter 1. Heat a large saucepan on a high heat. Add a few tablespoons of cream from the top of the coconut milk or some oil. Stir fry the curry paste for 15-30 seconds or until you notice the aroma. Be careful not to burn. 2. Quickly add 2 cups water and the coconut milk. Bring to a simmer. 3. Add broccoli. Bring back to a simmer and cook uncovered for 8-9 minutes or until the broccoli is tender. 4. Remove from the heat. Stir in the peanut butter. Taste and season with a little salt or sugar. One of my favorite summer sandwiches as a kid, is toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches, especially with garden fresh tomatoes. And we have an over abundance of cucumbers right now, so my kids are finding cucumbers in everything we eat right now.
Open-Faced Tomato Cheese Sandwiches 1. Slice fresh tomatoes onto a piece of bread. 2. Cover with sliced cheese. I use Cabot Cheddar cheese. 3. Place in the oven under the broiler for just a few minutes. I found this on the New York Times website, and I had to share. I can't wait to make it myself!
Cabbage-Radish Slaw With Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette Published: March 24, 2009 Adapted from “The Working Cook,” by Tara Duggan (The San Francisco Chronicle, 2006) Time: 20 minutes FOR THE SLAW: 1/2 small head green cabbage 1/2 small head savoy cabbage 1 medium watermelon radish or 1 bunch red radishes 2 poblano chilies FOR THE CILANTRO-LIME VINAIGRETTE: 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice, more to taste 1/2 cup minced fresh cilantro 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt Freshly ground pepper to taste Pinch cayenne pepper 1/4 teaspoon sugar 3 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil. 1. Make slaw: Remove tough outer leaves of cabbage halves and core halves. Using a food processor, a mandoline or a knife, shred cabbage as finely as possible. 2. Peel watermelon radish and cut into matchsticks, then cut matchsticks in half. Alternatively, trim radishes and roughly chop. Stem chilies and deseed them, then chop in pieces smaller than a dime. In a large bowl, mix all ingredients together. Set aside. 3. Make vinaigrette: In small bowl, whisk together all ingredients except oil. Let cilantro steep in mixture for a few minutes, then whisk in the oil in a steady stream to emulsify. 4. Taste and add more lime juice, salt or pepper if needed. Pour over slaw and blend well. Serve. Yield: 6 to 8 servings. |
AuthorAudrey Gerkin, is a gardener gone wild, after teaching in special education and raising 3 beautiful girls, ages 5 - 10, she has found a new calling in farming. Archives
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