our homestead: my first heirloom tomato harvest

This has been a rough year for tomatoes. It's been cold and wet; two factors that contribute to sluggishly slow growth and blight. Despite the weather, I was somehow blessed with baskets full of heirloom tomatoes, right from our little-greenhouse-that-could. These are the same tomatoes that I started from seed on my windowsills last winter, grown in dismal February light and then transplanted out into a frigid spring. I've been picking all sorts of tomatoes, including: yellow pear, black prince, sweet 100 cherries, evergreen (the middle photo) and pink brandywine (the bottom photo). Last night my husband and I enjoyed baked macaroni with bacon and heirloom tomatoes and today calls for BLT's with big slabs of tomato and smashed avocado. I've got a bunch of large, old mason jars, gifted to me from my Oma, running through the dishwasher at this very moment, as I plan on getting my can-on before work. Today I'll be canning stewed tomatoes (using our own homegrown celery, onions and garlic) and salsa. In the winter months we'll be able to roast chicken and potatoes with a jar of our stewed tomatoes, or snack on chips and tangy salsa. We are so lucky to have this bounty!

our homestead: first signs of asparagus and my garlic's looking good

Watching vegetables grow is so rewarding. When I'm not out weeding, mulching, hauling dirt in my wheel barrow, pruning or slug hunting, I just like to sit and admire all of the little starts I planted pushing out of the ground. Today, I spotted tiny turnip, carrot and lettuce sprouts, as well as I found some two inch onion starts and sunflowers. My peas are also vigorously climbing and are about a foot tall now. My lacinato kale starts are about half that height.

 

Anyway, I discovered a few purple asparagus spears starting to shoot out of the earth where I planted them back in April. Ha, my first thought was, "Yipee! It's working!". I really derive some simple happiness from watching things grow because whenever I plant something, I put a little hope into the success of my seeds. We've been having such a cold spring that any growth seems exceptional to me. Oh, and my garlic's looking great too! Thick, long green leaves which emit a pungent garlic aroma whenever I brush my hands by them while weeding. We'll be sure to have some gourmet roasted garlic for dinner this summer at my house!

our homestead: farmers market season begins (and I transplanted my tomatoes!)

I worked my first farmer's market of the season today. I've peddled organic produce for the same Skagit Valley farmer for the past six summers. It's always special for me when market season starts- I get to return to my community of creative, industrious and earthy people. I started coming along to market with my mom when I was about ten or eleven years old, and used to help her sell her handmade goatmilk soap. If I was lucky I'd get $5.00 to spend as I ran around the grassy marketplace in my barefeet with my little brother. Such wonderful summer memories of spending time with my mom with a cold Cherry Bomb Special in hand (an amazing fizzy drink one of my favorite vendors used to make). My mom still comes to market, but she's had quite a lot more to sell these past few years, ever since starting the tomato farm. Along with her awesome goatmilk soap, she'll usually bring all sorts of tomatoes, cucumbers and garlic, dried lavender blossoms and jars of honey.

I've met so many interesting characters over the years...I figure someday I might have to write a book about it. There was the iron worker who was nearly seven feet tall (I'm sure he was only six feet, but when I was little he was ginormous). He had a thick, black beard and a big old belly and would show up to market with an assortment of iron garden art: big, metal black flowers, birds, vines, gates and the likes. To set up his wares he'd just toss them right out of the van, *crash* *clang* *clang* on top of each other. Then there's my favorite honey vendor who always comes to market with his portly australian shepherd (who loves pasta and cheeseburgers). This particular honeyman has a huge heart and a hearty cackle to top it off. He's always sharing stories of his younger years with me (like the time he lived in Panama) and sharing business advice. Right now he's learning how to produce his own Queen bees, and he also raises canaries and pigeons. And then there's the farmer I work for. Anyone who's met him knows he's quite the character. He's notorious for showing up late to market, but that's just because he always has the freshest produce (and probably the best). I definitely have to credit my sleuth with cooking vegetables, and my knowledge of weird heirlooms, to working for this guy. He's chalk full of the coolest recipes and really tries to bring something different to market such as several types of fingerling potato varieties, squash blossoms, wild mushrooms, pickle weed, huckleberries, golden raspberries, striped tomatoes, kohlrabi, celery root, purple basil, lemon sorrel, pink and white striped chioga beets, kale flowers, asian pears and so much more.

Anyway, my first market of the season rocked. My farmer brought along his family, so it was like a little reunion. His daughter even made us all vetch crowns (I'm wearing mine in the picture above). All of the customers seemed happy to see us, and excited to have good food in their neighborhood once more. This spring has been so cold that it was certainly a hopeful sight to see produce out on the tables: arugula, spinach, kale, radishes, leeks, spring garlic and onions, chives, cilantro, parsley, potatoes and plant starts.

Speaking of plant starts, I am also happy to announce that I was able to move out all of my tomato starts to my greenhouse today after the market (I'm holding one of my starts in the photo above). I was also able to plant celery, basil and pickling cucumber starts next to the tomatoes as well. I'll be sure to post a more detailed blog about my greenhouse setup in the the coming days. Now, I'm going to sit back and relax and enjoy some homemade rice pudding I was gifted by the Italian pasta vendor. What a good day!

DIY almanac: upcycled seed starting containers and where to find cool seeds

I nearly have a vegetable garden growing throughout the windowsills of my home: Pink Brandywine and Evergreen Tomatoes, Candy Onions, Merlot Lettuce, Agnes Pickling Cucumbers, African Marigolds, Red Sun and Russian Giant Sunflowers, Mammoth Dill, Long Island Brussel Sprout and more. Soon I'll be hardening off and transplanting my little starts outside, but in the meantime I wanted to write about some of my seed starting methods...mainly in regards to some alternative seed starting containers I've been using and where I find my seeds in the first place.

Anyway, one doesn't need to invest in peat pots or seed trays (though these are certainly handy) to successfully produce baby vegetables- most times there are perfectly functional seed starting trays in your very own household, just waiting to be repurposed. Basically anything that can be filled with a few inches of seed starting mix with good drainage will do. You can use old yogurt and Tupperware containers providing you punch a few holes in the bottom for excess water to escape."Sawed-off" milk cartons work great since their waxy coating helps to retain moisture. Of, if you stop by your local grocery or food co-op you might be able to find tomato, pepper, apple or pear flat boxes which come with a protective plastic or cardboard tray for the produce (with individual grooves for each fruit. These are great because you can easily fill these with starting mix, plant one seed per groove and then easily punch out your start from its container and transplant it, much like a fancier seeding tray. Also, in lieu of peat pots, grab yourself some simple cardboard egg cartons, fill them with your starting mix and plant those seeds (check out my cucumber starts above). When you're ready to transplant you can either push the starts out of the carton or you can simply pull the carton apart (per start) and directly plant the starts into the earth since the cartons will biodegrade quickly. If you directly plant the carton pots, it does help to make sure there's a hole or tear in the bottom of each, to make it easier for your starts' roots to acclimate to the soil.

Now the fun part! Seeds! I get so excited when my first round of seed catalogues show up, right about the time winter is winding down. My favorite seed catalogues come from Johnny's Seed Co, the Territorial Seed Company and Peaceful Valley. Their selection is always astounding, chalk full of heirlooms and organics, and I adore the plant photos and illustrations. Recently I discovered a seed company called the Kitazawa Seed Co (it's funny because they have been around since 1917) that specializes in Asian vegetable varieties. They have all sorts of cool and quirky seeds such as melons, greens, cabbages, gourds, turnips, beans, sesame, eggplant, water peppers, leeks, mibuna, mugwort and the likes. I ordered a few packs of seeds from them including Lunar White and Kyoto Red carrots, a dark-orange winter squash called Uchiki Juri and Harukei Turnips (yum!). I've also had some success searching for seeds at my local Cenex (farm co-op). They usually have a decent assortment of seed potatoes and onion sets. Often I find myself on the hunt for local seed exchanges as well, wherein folks can come and share and collect personal heirloom seeds. I'm considering organizing one myself...

our homestead: welcoming spring with a potato (and pea) planting

Spring! Spring! Oh my darling, you've come back to me! In celebration of the growing season, I've spent the day digging around one of my garden patches, planting out potatoes and sugar snap peas. To prepare this year's potato patch, I was sure to clear out any pesky weeds and dig up any large stones, then I put down heaps of rich compost (potatoes love some fertile soil) and "green manure", also known as alfalfa grass, grown by a local farm. I selected three organic seed potato varieties: 1) french fingerlings (a buttery, gourmet finger-shaped tuber with a golden flesh and blush, papery skin), 2) all blue potatoes (it's safe to say that this one's my favorite- blue in hue, slightly sweet, and oh boy! it makes the best mashed potatoes with peas), and 3) classic red nordland roasters (bring on the rosemary!). I dug three long trenches about 3-4 inches deep, about 2 feet apart, and dropped a potato every 12 inches down each row before covering them up with a blanket of soil.

When their first starts emerge from the earth, I'll begin drawing up the soil around their stalks as they grow. This is known as "hilling"...essentially as your potato plant grows you build a mound around it on either side, ensuring its developing tubers aren't exposed to any sunlight as sunlight causes them to turn green. Eventually the potato plants will grow bushy (they almost look like determinate tomato plants), flower, and then they will start to turn brown. A midsummer dying potato plant marks the kickoff for potato harvesting (of course you can always dig around before this point...usually when the flowers appear...and steal a potato or two). To harvest, whole plants can be pulled up, attached tubers and all, and digging around the plant's surrounding hill will reveal even more new potatoes.

So why did I plant sugar snap peas by my potatoes? Other than the fact that a fresh sugar snap tastes like vegetable candy, peas, another cool-weather crop, are kindred spirits with developing potatoes. Peas, like all legumes, are "nitrogen fixing", meaning they'll grab a hold of nitrogen in the air and enrich their surrounding soil. Nitrogen is essential for healthy green development (leaves, stalks and shoots), and potatoes are heavy Nitrogen feeders. Want to strengthen your soil for some summer corn or tomatoes? Plant some good ol' peas now!