our homestead: snow and seedlings

Snow on the slough

 It was sunny with blue skies today. Quite a stark difference from the wintery weather we had this past week. We had buckets of snow cloak the whole area...up to 6 or 7 inches at my house and nearly a foot or more at my mom's. My cousin from Spokane is in town right now as well, so she's been my partner in crime these past few days as we've been trying to evade getting cabin fever. I heard they received a few feet of snow on her side of the mountains too. I spent my snowed-in days by walking along the river with my dogs (this was Banjo's first snow), concocting far too chocolatey hot cocoa on my stove, stealthily sledding down my neighbor's hill at night and rolling up giant snowmen with my cousin and watching a marathon of movies while feasting on crockpot stews. 

Even with snow on the ground, I've also been busy taking care of baby tomato seedlings! Yes! I have tomatoes once again growing on my windowsills, except this year I've invested in heating mats to speed up their germination (ooh lala!) and am growing them in some fancy-schmancy certified organic potting soil. These seedlings originate from the very same seeds I saved from the tomatoes I grew last year: heirloom pink brandywine and evergreen. I'm nerdily ecstatic that they are actually growing as funny as that sounds...although that's usually the same reaction I have every time something I plant in the ground starts peeking up out of the soil with its green little nose. Never gets old for me. I'm awaiting some 'cherry fall' trailing tomato seeds to arrive in my mailbox. I'm going to experiment and  try to make some hanging baskets this year with them.

My cousin visiting Mercedes at my mom's house

My cousin's snow man...check out that mustache

Banjo and Oswald playing in the snow

An apple tree peeking over the levy

Baby tomatoes

trail setters: small tomato victory at the co-op

It’s been my first year working for my local natural food co-op’s produce department, and I've been slowly testing the waters to see how many of my favorite organic farmers I could bring into the store. This year I was able to bring in a lot of Frog’s Song Farm produce (I've sold their produce at markets for six summers now), including an assortment of their heirloom potatoes and fingerlings, fresh onions and shallots, cucumbers, spinach, salad greens, turnips, beets and more. I've also recently set my foot down on bringing in non-local tomatoes as it’s prime tomato season in our area and I truly believe in the Co-op’s mission statement about supporting local producers. My coworkers and produce team have all encouraged me in my attempts to change a few things, so I’m very grateful for them. My co-op’s tomatoes are now all 100% Washington grown. Someone in the back even created a sign for me, declaring the exciting news of sporting all local tomatoes (I really appreciate that!). I brought in my parent’s Beefsteaks, Yellow Pear and Mountain Magic tomatoes (Flying Tomato Farm) and I've also brought in Tonnemaker’s romas. I’ve worked markets next to Tonnemakers for years. We also have colorful cherries, romas and red and yellow slicers coming from Five Acre Farm and Okanagon Producers and heirloom tomatoes from Millingwood. Go little Co-op! I wonder how many of the larger Co-ops or health food stores in our area can claim 100% local tomatoes in their produce section.

As the "off-season" approaches, I look forward to heading to the few year round markets (such as Ballard or Bellingham) to see what some of our farmers will have in the colder months. There's no reason why we should have to ship in produce from California or Chile when, with a little sleuth, we can find Washington farmers offering overwintered beets, carrots and potatoes, fresh cabbages, kales and brussel sprouts, microgreens, parsnips and sunchokes and more. I am really looking forward to this challenge. I want to keep the local spirit alive in our co-op...to be a true outlet for farmers all year round. I am also going to see what I can grow out of my greenhouse this winter...

DIY almanac: saving tomato seeds for later planting

My husband and I have been harvesting tomatoes left and right and have been enjoying tomato inspired meals everyday- tortilla soup with big chunks of tomato, open-faced grilled cheese sandwiches with green tomato slices, little slider burgers stuffed with shredded purple carrot and onions with giant slabs of brandywine tomatoes and beet greens, classic basil and mozzerella caprese salads, scrambled tomatoes and farm fresh eggs...I might have to make tomatoes stuffed and baked with bacon, chopped onions and bread crumbs tonight. Oh baby!

Anyway, if they don't just get tossed into the cook pot, I've been trying to save as many of my tomato seeds as possible from the really nice tomatoes I harvest (any big, colorful "perfect-looking" tomatoes or tomatoes with cool features). That way, next February, I can start tomatoes from my own homegrown seeds. Saving these seeds should produce hardier plants next year and the year after since the parent plants had to acclimate to Western Washington weather conditions. My original seed packets came from California, so I'll be creating my own Washington genetic version, which should increase my yield for years to come.

This is really a big part of heirloom creation. For example, I've been saving seeds from my really, really big pink brandywine tomatoes. Next year, when I grow these plants, most of their offspring should exhibit this size, and I'll select, again for the biggest brandywines for seed storage, perpetuating this giant trait. I haven't researched tomato cross-pollination too much this year, though my tomato plants did get a little mixed up in the greenhouse, so I do have a few tomatoes that look as though they are mixed between pink brandywine and evegreen. I'll probably save some of their seeds, though since they are more of a hybrid, I'm not sure what I'll get next year with them, but that adds to the fun and the mystery. One of my goals is to create a few of my own heirlooms to pass on to the next generations of my family.

There are a few different routes one can go down in regards to the tomato seed saving process. The biggest concern for tomato seed saving is removing the enzyme that coats the outside of the seeds (the goo around the seeds). This enzyme actually prevents the seeds from germinating within the fruit, and traditionally the enzyme is removed via fermentation. The seedy goop of a tomato is scooped out and dropped in a glass and then filled with water. Usually plastic wrap is placed over the glass and the glass sits in a warm place for a few days, until the goop rotts off of the seeds. Then, when mold starts to appear, the seeds are rinsed through a fine mesh sieve and then laid out to dry.

I usually follow some of these steps, though I'm a little too impatient to wait a few days and allow something to rott on my window. My method involves most of the same steps. I'll take the goop out of my tomato and then rinse the seeds as much as I can using a fine mesh sieve, then I'll let the seeds sit in a glass of water for 24 hours. The seeds that sink are the most viable seeds, whereas the floaters are immature seeds, so I'll skim off the floaters after my 24 hour period. Then, I'll pour the seeds into my sieve once more and rinse and scrub them with a little baking soda or natural dish soap and a small brush. Usually I can buff away the remaining enzyme. I'll then set my seeds out on a piece of brown paper and let them air dry. When they're ready, they'll go into small, labeled glass jars and will be hidden away in a cool, dark cabinet for starting next winter.

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: the growing season's really here at last

We've been having a very mild start to summer...a few sunny days here and there. Still some overcast but temperatures are thankfully rising. For instance, though it was very cloudy the other day, it was at least a balmy 70 degrees out. I'm still hoping for more sun (like everyone), though I've always joked that summer in Western Washington really starts on July 5th (the day after Independence Day as it usually rains on the 4th of July). Anyway, though everything will be late this year, my vegetable garden is really taking off. The tomatoes, celery and cucumbers are becoming thick and lush in my little green house (see top photo). In fact, I've been munching on a cucumber here and there as I water my tomatoes (which finally have tiny green tomatoes after days of hand-pollinating their flowers with an electric toothbrush). Part of my morning ritual these past few weeks has been to snack on sugar snap peas straight off the vine and leaves off my lacinato kale after taking care of the tomatoes and cucumbers. I'm pretty proud of my little kale patch- I've heard that this year has been hard on this particular type of kale. Somehow I have it growing quite happily in my yard. My potatoes are also incredibly bushy and flowering...all sorts of colors: purple, peach, yellow and white (see purple flower photo above). When potato plants start to flower it means that tuber development has begun. I've already snitched and enjoyed a few small fingerlings and some red potatoes from two of my plants. The last photo in the line above is of me hiding in my pea and potato patch. I also have about 100 onions (red, sweet and yellow) growing, rainbow corn popping up, marigolds blooming and my sunflowers are almost hip-level. I'm waiting for my garlic to be ready to harvest...then I'll be able to plant pumpkins and some more corn starts I have growing in little pots in my greenhouse.

 

trail setters: mother's day on the tomato farm

For Mother's Day this year, I was lucky enough to spend some quality time on my folk's tomato farm with my mom, step-dad, brother, husband and a motley crew of dogs. My mom and step-dad have quite the professional setup this year: a long, cathedral-like greenhouse with raised, cinder block lined beds. I guess there are over 500 tomato plants growing on their site, not to mention the assortment of pepper plants they also have in the works. They'll be carting their homegrown goods to market in the coming months. Above, you'll see a photo of a little yellow flower. In time, this blossom will become a ripe, juicy tomato.

trail setters: baby tomaters

My family's tomatoes are starting to sprout! These lil' greenies will grow into thick, 8 foot tall, 20 foot long plants, transforming the insides of my family's greenhouses into jungles in due time for the market season. I love it when I walk into the greenhouse on a mid-summer afternoon and have to yell, "MOM!?" in order to find the lady. Often I'll see her raise her hand up, waving over the vines, exclaiming, "I'm over here!" Anyway, this year we're growing 'Trust Beefsteaks' (a hearty, fat sandwich slicer), mini yellow 'Golden Rave Romas' (imagine the sauce you'll get from these honeys!), some plum tomatoes and black cherry tomatoes (umm...sexy!). There's also some 'Camaro' English cucumbers sprouting, but that's a tale for another day.

As far as getting the whole process going, the tomatoes are planted indoors right after Christmas. The seeds are lovingly dispersed around seed flats placed upon heating mats and are showered with lots of bright, LED light. These seeds thrive in a soil pH of about 6.8 and are heavy-feeders. Keeping the soil's phosphorous levels up makes for a happy tomato plant and my family also supplies the seedlings with beneficial fungi known as mycorrhiza. Mycorrhiza basically aid the roots of the tomatoes in mineral and water absorption via a mutualistic relationship. When the plants reach about 10inches tall they'll be moved outside to their new greenhouse homes. This should be around Valentine's Day- another tomato milestone to look forward to this winter! Oh! And you can read an article about my family's farm here:

http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20070725/LIVING01/707250312

DIY almanac: heirloom purple calabash tomato soup

So, my family has a tomato farm- Flying Tomato Farm of Snohomish, Washington to be exact. You can visit the farm's website here for some background: http://www.flyingtomatofarm.com/

Anyway, of all the various tomatoes we grow, the Heirloom Purple Calabash are, hands-down, my favorites of the whole batch. Their appearance is almost comically striking: fat and jovial, purplish-red wrinkled balls of Lycopersicon character. And they taste pretty darn good too! A more acidic tomader, these heirlooms have a vibrantly tart taste, as if they were the lovechild betwixt a tomato and a lime. Mmm mmm mmm, delicious simply sliced with a light dusting of sea salt, or transformed into this amazingly flavorful, roasted calabash soup:

Ingredients

6 big calabash tomatoes

2-3 tablespoons olive oil or grapeseed oil

2 handfuls fresh basil (and any other herbs you'd like such as oregano, parsley, etc)

2-3 cloves chopped garlic

1 tablespoon organic butter

2 cups free-range chicken or vegetable stock

pepper and sea salt to taste

1/2 cup organic cream (optional)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Chop calabash tomatoes into fat wedges and then toss into a baking dish. Drizzle with oil and mix in the herbs. Roast in the oven for 35-45 minutes, until tomato skins are loose and their fruit is shriveled and juicy. Meanwhile, sauté chopped garlic in butter over medium heat until lightly browned. Start heating the stock in a large saucepan. Add the garlic and the cooked tomatoes. Purée with a handheld blender, and additionally strain for a smoother soup, if desired. For a more luscious version, mix in cream. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve with good bread or a hearty scoop of chevre goat cheese. This soup's totally meant for a rainy day!