only november

Despite what you may think upon going out in public and being bombarded by Christmas paraphernalia and Christmas songs and Christmas treats, it is still fall.

And I am glad of that. 

weekend in the kitchen

One of the things I miss while I'm away at school is the kitchen. 

So, home for the weekend, with the house to myself and nothing but a thirty page paper to write, I cooked. I made the house smell first like a bread and cinnamon and then like a Indian restaurant. 

I made a variation of Sarah Britton's "cozy" banana bread with 1 1/2 cup whole wheat flour and 1/2 barley flour. It was also sans nuts, seeds or chocolate, but I did add about 1/2 a teaspoon cinnamon and maybe 1/8 teaspoon nutmeg, plus a pinch of cardamom and a large handful quick oats.

Saturday I received a gift of one gorgeously wild looking ginger root and a gnarly looking bulb of celeriac. Ginger I adore, but celeriac (to the right in the photo below) was an unknown beast. 

I think one of the most important things to do in cooking is experiment. Certainly, you should getting your footing and follow the recipe to the T while you're still learning. But once you feel confident with a sharp knife in your hand and onions at your fingertips, follow your tastebuds over the recipe. Recipes can be guidelines. 

To make a curry, I used this talented lady's recipe as a jumping off point. I had no butternut squash, so I tossed in sweet potatoes instead. Quinoa is similar to lentils, I've cooked with both - I figured it could work. And the spices I varied simply because I love to play with spices (next time, I'll use a little more cinnamon, less curry powder and 1/4 teaspoon cumin). 

Sweet Potato and Celeriac Quinoa Curry
(adapted from My New Roots)

4 tablespoons olive oil

1 pound sweet potatoes peeled and cut in 1/2 inch cubes

1 large onion, chopped

1 carrot, chopped

1/2 a celeriac bulb, chopped in 1/2 inch cubes*

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 tablespoons fresh ginger, minced

1 1/2 cup quinoa (I used red and white), rinsed

1 tablespoon curry powder (preferably Madras)

1/2 teaspoon crushed chili flakes

a pinch of cinnamon

4 cups water

2 cups fresh spinach

salt and pepper

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, or to taste

1. Heat oil in a large heavy pot over medium heat and add sweet potatoes, onion, carrot, celeriac, garlic, ginger and 1 teaspoon salt, stirring occasionally, until veggies are softened and beginning to brown - 15 to 20 minutes.

2. Stir in spices and cook, stirring frequently, 1 minute.

3. Add quinoa and water and simmer, uncovered, until quinoa is tender, expanded, and with their curly tails sprung out. Remove from heat and stir in spinach until wilted. Add lemon juice and season with salt and pepper. Garnish with a dollop of plain yogurt if you like. (And know that it's even better the next day.) 


*The rest of the celeriac later got chopped up and roasted, along with carrots, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, onion, and garlic

Listening to:

This

This

All of this (but particularly this)

And this

change of season

And so summer has turned into fall. I was not the least bit sad to see it go.

I've never had any particular affection for fall, even though my birthday is in October. This year, though, I am relishing the change of season. The cooler weather means I can wear scarves and sweaters and boots, and sip warm tea in the afternoon, and the world is tinted gold. But it also seems like a mimicking of my feelings right now - I feel happy caught up in shifting seasons.

I am one month into the first semester of my second year at university. People ask if I still love it. Absolutely. More so than I ever did before. I love it when my head bubbles over with ideas and new information. (And, I must admit, I love the independence I have too.)

One of these new ideas: For a project recently, I've been interviewing local farmers. In my second interview with one farmer, I asked him why he got into farming. His reply stopped me in my tracks:

"I got into farming because there weren't too many things I could do for work that I thought could contribute to the kind of world that I wanted to exist in. And I couldn't find anything with farming that was compromising with what I thought was right. So. I got into farming. I was inspired by people who were self-sufficient and could grow their own food, you know, build their own buildings, fix their own stuff, and generate their own energy, and didn't rely on other people, didn't rely on institutions. Um...that's why I got into farm. I wanted to live close to the land and interact with the land. Because we live on a planet, and I wanted to take full advantage of getting to live on a planet. Like Earth – where you can grow stuff. And then, you know, reading different people, books, talking with different people. That's how I got into it. And I just thought: if you can grow your own food you don't really have to worry about anything. And if you're not worried about starving then you don't have to worry about anything, really. Course, there's always things to worry about – like, whatever. But I thought on a basic level if I could grow my own food I'd feel really secure. And it would be really empowering. And it is. I was right. It is really empowering."

My favorite line: "...we live on a planet, and I wanted to take full advantage of getting to live on a planet."

There will be more posts coming. In the month following the end of my internship I wasn't sure how to approach blogging in this space. Now I know. This my journal and in it I will explore living on a planet. I will take full advantage of getting to live on a planet.

planting fall crops

What we did yesterday was real farming.
That's what Devin said. By which I think he means the work we did was pretty intense.
I hope that's what he means, at least. Because it was.

We planted a couple fall crops - broccoli, cauliflower and lettuce - in a field Devin let lie fallow for a year or two. The very first time I came to the farm, back in March (when I was considering doing my internship there), the chickens were situated on this very spot. Tuesday the grasses and weeds were mowed down and soil was prepared with Jean's David Bradley. 

Devin ran the roto tiller down the field, creating a furrow. Into that furrow we sprinkled alfalfa meal and crushed mollusk shells, which are high in calcium. It gives the plants an extra boost, since they take so much calcium from the soil (hence why brassicas, the family broccoli and cauliflower are in, are so rich in calcium). Then the plants were dropped in, pre-watered, covered up, and water again. And we watered downhill, starting at the steepest point so that it naturally ran down the trench.

As the sun rose over the trees, the temperature climbed. It wasn't nearly so hot as last week - that would have been brutal. It was just in the upper eighties, I believe.

I got to run the roto tiller for the first time. It's a beast of a machine that lurches when you run over a large rock and is tricky to turn around. But I got a feel for all the levers and switches. I prepped a section of the field; I couldn't yet manage to dig a furrow (not a straight one, anyway).

We planted six very long rows.

Around nine or nine thirty, a mass of dragonflies came out. Looking up now and then, I watched them crazily buzzing about. And the blue bird came by too. Ruby was our companion in the morning; she rode in the truck with us up to the field and took to standing in the furrows Devin made.