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: sunflower season

Sunflowers and Indian Paintbrush are my most beloved flowers, and both appear in late summer; sunflowers in my yard and paintbrush on my favorite hiking routes in the mountains. I've tried to grow Indian Paintbrush in my yard but I think they really need a good alpine environment...at least for me. This year I grew Russian Mammoth Sunflowers (their heads were as big as dinner plates!), some red sunflowers and some of the classic yellow sunflowers with heads about the size of salad plates. The majority of my sunflowers grew at least 5 feet tall, some were even taller than me, and I'll admit I've spent a few summer evenings just standing underneath my sunflowers, admiring these gentle giants. I have my sunflowers standing tall in my back vegetable garden, attracting pollinators, and in my front yard, greeting any visitors that come a'calling.

I have three different life stages of sunflowers at this point. Some have already gone to seed and are ready for harvest. I hate having to cut down my sunflowers since they still look pretty, even when they lose their petals, so I have a few standing out in the field (their seeds will still be able to dry) and a few drying on my front porch where I can keep them relatively safe from birds. I'll probably move them all to my shed soon and hang them from the rafters to dry, and then I'll be able to collect the seeds for eating or for storing for next spring for a larger sunflower crop. I've been taking the spent petals of my seeded sunflower heads and have been drying them for tea, so later, in winter I'll be able to remember my garden. I also have plenty of sunflowers that are still in bloom, and about 5 sunflowers yet to bloom, so I should have some of their color for the next few weeks. With all of the seeds I'll be able to harvest this year, I'm looking forward to next summer. I hope I'll be able to plant a colossal sunflower patch!
 

trail setters: a day at the farmers market

Summer is market season, and thus it's always the busiest season for me. I often have lots of dreams right about this time dealing with produce: dreams where I'm helping a customer and bagging their vegetables and then I don't give them accurate change, dreams where I spill fingerlings and huckleberries all over the sidewalk (wait...I've done that in real life), dreams where the scale isn't working or dreams where I'm surrounded by homegrown kohlrabi microgreens and everyone is excited and cheering for me (that was last night's dream). Yeah. This year I'm especially busy since I'm working the produce section of our local co-op as well and maintaining a household, wrangling furbabies and a husband, and keeping my vegetable garden happy and healthy. As most folks already know or probably already suspect, I've been a part of the market scene since I was a kid, so I've grown up with a lot of the farmers and vendors I work with. In a sense, we're like a giant family or community where everyone knows everyone.

Yesterday was a slower day at the market (SeaFair's going on this weekend), so I could take the time to catch a few photos of my family's tomato stand, Flying Tomato Farm, and the stand I work at, Frog's Song Farm. It's been a cold summer this year, so everything, again, is late. We have had sugar snap peas and rhubarb just until last week! All the way through August! And I haven't seen any west-side green beans yet...although chanterelles (a late September mushroom) are already showing up out in the wild. Freaky weather. Anyway, I'm very happy that my family's now making it out to markets with some tomatoes and cucumbers. The top two photos are of their stand. In previous years they've been at the market with their produce as early as May, but they decided not to heat their greenhouse this year and the cool weather contributed to the wait. But let me tell you, their tomatoes have been worth this wait. I made a delicious caprese salad yesterday after the market using their tomatoes and cucumbers. Mmm mmm crunchy, juicy goodness.

The bottom three photos are from the Frog's Song Farm stand. Frog's Song Farm's produce comes from a small, family farm based on Fir Island (up near Conway/LaConner). It's beautiful up there...one of these days I'll post some photos of the area. As far as the market's concerned, we have had so much more variety than what we started the cold season with. Now we have the following up for grabs: several types of fingerling and round potatoes (apple rose finns and peruvian purples made their appearance this week), french breakfast radishes, Japanese salad turnips, chioga and classic purple beets, nantes and heirloom rainbow and big n' ugly carrots, fava beans, red and golden raspberries (though the red raspberries may be on their way out), loose and bunched spinach, rainbow chard, red and white kale, salad mix, all sorts of head lettuce, sweet onions, red onions, shallots, head cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, oyster mushrooms, the first of the chanterelles, zucchini and their squash blossoms, sweet pea flowers, sunflowers, and much more that I'm probably forgetting. Anyway, that cute gal in the last photo is a my super awesome and creative coworker, Heidi. She lives in Kingston and takes the ferry over to sell with me. We always have a fun time working together (especially since we share an affinity for sweet, sweet baked goods from the market as well as the pasta man's rice pudding, oh lord!). She also hooked me up with a darling black rabbit yesterday...but that's a story for next time!

our homestead: scenes from my walk this evening

Today made for a very sunny day, followed by a beautiful evening and sunset. I had the chance to take my dog, Ozzy, out to one of my favorite spots to go for a late summer's walk: the levy that runs along the river. I have a special way to get here. The entrance is a bit of a local secret...you have to drive all the way to the end of a rural road, past a cemetery full of born-in-the-1800s tombstones and then hang a sharp left to find it. Once you get out on the levy, you cross fields of marshlands full of grasses, wild flowers, snags, giant thistles, willow trees and all sorts of critters. Today I spotted a giant toad, several ducks, a beaver and its dam, and an otter hopping into the river from the bank across from me. In times of heavy rain, these marshlands are meant to hold excess river water to help prevent flooding in the valley. The further you walk, the quieter your surroundings become until you find some true peace.

our homestead: scenes from my walk this morning

It was a warm and balmy, overcasted morning, so I decided to take my dog, Ozzy, out for walk down the slough to the river. Above are a few quick pictures I took of the area. The first is of my neighbor's pumpkin patch, full of big orange blossoms (these will later become big ol' pumpkins). The second photo is my other neighbor's field, rolled up into hay bales. Then, the last is the promise of a very good blackberry season (the bushes that line the roadside are littered in green berries). I'm very grateful to live out here. It's so peaceful.