On Gleaning and Fresh From the Farm This Week

The week before summer school started up, I received an email about volunteer opportunities with Hopelink, a non-profit on the Eastside that does all sorts of good things, including, in this case, gleaning fresh vegetables from small farms for the food bank that it operates.

 Gleaning is one of those words that seems completely out of place in our modern day society.  For me, it harkens to Biblical times, in particular, the story of Ruth, a widow, who in order to support herself and her mother-in-law, gleans for grain in the fields of a rich farmer.  The happy ending is that Ruth ends up marrying the rich farmer, Boaz, who also happens to have a heart of gold, and they become ancestors of King David, and ultimately part of Jesus' genealogy.  Not bad for someone who had become marginalized in society as a widow and a stranger in a strange land.  I suppose our modern day equivalent might be dumpster diving or something of the sort, but saying I'm going dumpster diving doesn't quite evoke the same sense as gleaning does.

Hopelink had partnered up with Sno-Valley Harvest, whose motto is "Everyone deserves access to healthy food.  And you can help" and  the volunteer coordinator was a lovely young woman named Jody, an AmeriCorps volunteer, who has been spending her time finding small farms that have extra or non-saleable produce and bringing in gleaning parties to harvest, transport, and bundle the food for Hopelink's food bank.

On Friday morning, I drove out to Monroe, WA, to Present Tense Farm for a two-hour shift to glean braising kale.  I had no idea what to expect and no idea who did this sort of thing, but I guess now I know: people like me. :)  When I arrived, Jody and one of the other volunteers, Bonnie, were already there with Rick coming in right behind me.  The farmers, Jayme and Neil, were a young couple who were leasing an acre or so of land to grow their produce, which they sell at the Queen Anne farmer's market.

Jody gave the three of us some mini-machetes, which worked like a charm, and we got to work harvesting some beautiful curly purple kale.  With four people, the work went quickly, and we filled up about 15 containers of kale in about an hour and a half.  It totaled up to 156 pounds of kale, which is amazing to me.  It really didn't seem like that much at the time, and we didn't even harvest it all.  We had to stop because we ran out of containers but Jody said that the following week she'd come back and harvest the rest with another crew.

After we were done, I spent some time chatting with Jayme and Neil about their farm.  Even though it was only an acre or so, it was astonishing how much food they could grow there.  And their produce was beautiful, healthy and flourishing.  They were leasing the land for a year and began working on their farm in January.  They tilled the fields and put up the large greenhouse on the property where they grew their starts before transplanting them in the ground and now where they grew their warm weather crops like tomatoes and eggplant. (Note to self: I need a greenhouse!!)  They did have issues with deer (I had to ask!), but with the amount they grew, it wasn't too big a deal if a deer ate a bit of it.  Call it a tithe to Nature, which makes sense, though it's still a bit hard for me to embrace that attitude because of the much smaller scale on which I farm. All in all, I had a great time meeting the other volunteers and really loved seeing these small farms out in our larger community.  I especially loved meeting these young farmers who have such a passion for what they do.  It's inspiring and I definitely would love to become a regular in a "gleaning crew" when my other day job finishes up in about 7 weeks.

Present Tense Farm is a nice name for a farm, but there's no farm like THE farm for me.  This week's harvest was abundant after the warm rains and the hot weather from the last few weeks.  My 8-ball zucchinis were forming nicely and most of the favas and peas were ready for harvest. 

 Speaking of deer, I was pretty sure they were the ones who went in and nibbled at the ropes of my bean trellis as well as the tender shoots of some of the plants, (Repeat to self: "Nature deserves her due.  Nature deserves her due") but after doing a little research, it may be that I am too quick to blame everything and anything that goes wrong there on the deer.  In fact, it might actually be slugs or some other type of bug or even birds!  The bean tips get neatly trimmed off about an inch above the ground but not eaten.  Rather, it's left there wilting right next to the sad little stem that's left. Now that just seems like plain spite.  It wouldn't be as annoying if whatever it was actually was eating the shoot, not just killing it, but I have yet to truly sleuth out the culprit.

 All in all, it was an abundant haul.  I decided to do some close-ups of these vegetables to show how beautiful their forms and colors are:

I put all this lovely produce to use in an Ad-Hoc inspired salad that was comprised of fresh red lettuce and arugula, blanched favas and peas, chunks of avocado, and a lemon-honey vinaigrette.  (Ad-Hoc is a wonderful restaurant in Yountville, CA, and the first time I went there, the waiter took probably 15 minutes or so to describe the menu, explaining how the lettuce and much of the other vegetables were grown from The French Laundry gardens down the block, how the beef was from a cow that they bought from a butcher around the corner and that they were eating it from tail to snout, and how the vineyard for the wines were neighbors in the next town over, you get the picture.  And I enjoyed every minute of it!)

Since I still had quite a bit of produce and some orecchiette pasta, I pretty much made another version of the same thing using pasta instead of salad greens.  After decades of making pasta that was too dry or not quite flavorful enough, I finally learned a couple of tricks from watching all those cooking shows that seemed to work well this time:

1. Salt the water so that it's like the ocean.  I usually just added a teaspoon or so thinking it's more for raising the boiling point but now realize that it's also used for flavoring the pasta.  So I used 2 tablespoons or so this time for the water and that made the pasta more flavorful.

2. Keep the pasta water to help make the sauce for the pasta.  Since I wasn't using a tomato sauce or a pesto, the pasta water kept the pasta from sticking together or feeling too dry, which was something I often had a problem with in the past.  And since it was already so salty, it also added more dimension to the sauce and vegetables.

One last note is that wilted, slightly cooked arugula works really well with pasta.  Sometimes arugula can be a bit strong for me, especially since the ones I am growing are going to seed, but cooked with the pasta, it took on a slightly bitter, minerally flavor (in a good way!), which I really liked.

The following is part of the Jewish Encyclopedia's explaination of "leket" or the "gleaning of the fields":

The remains of a crop after harvesting, which must be left for the poor. The Mosaic law enjoins: "And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest. And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou shalt leave them for the poor and the stranger: I am the Lord your God" (Lev. xix. 9, 10). 

"When thou beatest thine olive tree, thou shalt not go over the boughs again: it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow. When thou gatherest the grapes of thy vineyard, thou shalt not glean it afterward: it shallbe for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow" (Deut. xxiv. 20, 21). These provisions belong to the agricultural poor-laws of the Bible, the transgression of which was punishable with stripes.

In the Book of Ruth there is a description of the manner in which the fields were gleaned. The poor followed the reapers at their work, and gathered all the remains of the crop, both those that fell out of the hands of the reaper and those that escaped the sickle (Ruth ii. 2).--From the Jewish Encyclopedia

I also wanted to share a quote from Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, who has this to say about the poor:

"The poor and marginalized see the devil first and most clearly. They have the power to reveal a culture’s actual gods and their blindness!  This is why spiritual seekers must pay very careful attention to the voices of the poor and the marginalized. Not because it's our job to "serve" them from our own limited "truth," but because they see, live, and breathe a truth that our culture and privilege have made invisible to us."

In the midst of such bounty in my own life, I offer up this Prayer of Thanksgiving that I found on beliefnet:

Prayer of Thanksgiving

God of all blessings,
source of all life,
giver of all grace:

We thank you for the gift of life:
for the breath
that sustains life,
for the food of this earth
that nurtures life,
for the love of family and friends
without which there would be no life.

We thank you for the mystery of creation:
for the beauty
that the eye can see,
for the joy
that the ear may hear,
for the unknown
that we cannot behold filling the universe with wonder,
for the expanse of space
that draws us beyond the definitions of our selves.

We thank you for setting us in communities:
for families
who nurture our becoming,
for friends
who love us by choice,
for companions at work,
who share our burdens and daily tasks,
for strangers
who welcome us into their midst,
for people from other lands
who call us to grow in understanding,
for children
who lighten our moments with delight,
for the unborn,
who offer us hope for the future.

We thank you for this day:
for life
and one more day to love,
for opportunity
and one more day to work for justice and peace,
for neighbors
and one more person to love
and by whom be loved,
for your grace
and one more experience of your presence,
for your promise:
to be with us,
to be our God,
and to give salvation.

For these, and all blessings,
we give you thanks, eternal, loving God,
through Jesus Christ we pray. Amen.

--Adapted from "Prayers of Our Hearts" © 1991 Vienna Cobb Anderson

 

Flower Power

I think I've shared in the past about my childhood desire to be a florist when everyone else wanted to be a nurse or a astronaut or a circus clown.  I've been making up little nosegays and bouquets from flowers from my and my dad's yard non-stop recently.  Perhaps I'm simply returning to my roots (pun intended), as I've just previously shared here, in yet another way.

There's something inherently satisfying in being able to put together a bouquet for someone and proudly say, "I grew that!"  I know it's not good to brag, but yes, I do want a gold star because I'm kind of a big deal! (I've been reading over some old blog posts and was reminded of my goal to embrace youthful hubris when I read this. :))

I don't naturally migrate to the soft pinks, whites, purples, and blues if I were to pick a ready made bouquet but since I used a seed packet called "Grandmother's Cutting Garden" by Botanical Interest, this is the sweet mixture that comes out of the ground year after year.  Bachelor's Buttons, Sweet Williams, Love-in-the-mist, and campanulas dominated the garden this year.  I also tucked in some sage flowers for contrast and their heavenly smell and added some borage for texture.  I also have been putting together big bouquets of borage because the blossoms are so abundant that some of the stems are ripping off the stalk due to the weight.  The bees couldn't bee (pun intended) happier!

This last bouquet is made up of roses from Dad's garden.  I'm not necessarily a fan of roses given how fussy they are but I may be a convert.  This sweet little bouquet perfumed the whole house for days and I loved how the the gorgeous shades of pink, red, orange, and mauve complimented each other.  I stuck a few branches of barberry bush in there for height and contrast.  This is one scary plant with a sharp thorn hidden behind each rosy leaf.

In the end, I can't really say that I "arranged" these flowers.  When the flowers you have are all so beautiful and fresh, it takes very little skill to put them together in a pleasing way.  But I'll still take that gold star.

This last photo is just a bonus picture of a flower called "kalmia."  I'd never seen this sort of flower before but found it on campus one day while walking to my office.  The kalmia is a plant related to the rhododendron, and its flowers and leaves can be deadly.  It's sweet clusters spiral upward and remind me of something else that's sweet:

But you've already been warned; the flowers are dangerous so no eating.  (They're also know as "sheepkiller flowers" (!!).

Is there such a thing as flower fever?  Because I think I've got it bad.