Eat Each Season

Fall is in the air; can you smell it?  Summer plants are dying, decaying and adding nutrients to our soil as they pass.  There is a crispness to the breeze that makes it easier for bodies to breathe.  After frenetic summer harvests and food processes, I find autumn's slower garden pace to be relaxing.  Shelling my grandmother's peas is a task I enjoy and as they simmer, creating a rich pot liquor broth and earthy fragrance, my body craves those fruits and vegetables that are as much a part of their season as falling leaves. 

Granny's peas are as delicious as they are beautiful

We grow a large percentage of the food we eat and Richard and I find our bodies and taste buds eagerly anticipate each season's crops.  Nothing compares to the taste of a sun-warmed, perfectly ripe, heirloom tomato, until tiny sweet carrots and spicy radishes are ready to pull.  Then, there is fragrant arugula, crisp leaves that make delicious salads, pesto or sandwich components.  Combine and braise hearty kale, collards, mustard greens and turnip leaves and that cold weather dish feels like a pure dose of immune system boosting power.  Brush snow from spinach plants to uncover tender leaves that encourage nibbling as numb fingers work to pick them.  Green garlic shoots, sugar snap peas, asparagus spears and even dandelion leaves and wild onions are harbingers of their season and whet appetites for the wealth of summer's fruit and veg bounty.

Supporting local food is about more than purchasing fresh ingredients at a farmer's market, ordering from a farm-to-table menu or unpacking a box of goodies from a CSA; it's about relishing each season's unique flavors, textures and nutrients.   This fall, vow to appreciate parsnips, greens, apples, pumpkins and other autumn crops.  Listen to your body.  Go for a long walk.  Breathe deeply.  Savor each bite.  All too soon, temperatures will drop and icy winds will blow, but on some of our coldest days, rosemary will bloom and fresh spinach will nestle under snow, encouraging us to seek winter's tastes.  Eat each season. 

Southern Style Fresh Peas

My maternal grandmother called her peas "black-eyed peas," but they are a type of cowpea, also known as crowder peas, for the way they "crowd" into each pod.  This year, in addition to Granny's peas, we also grew Whippoorwill peas at Heart & Sole.  A cousin, Gene Hedrick, shared heirloom seeds with us that he reports grew in the Hedrick/Barlowe family for generations.  Both peas produced well and look almost identical.  A perfect fall dish, fresh peas are easy to prepare and delicious to eat.

Remove fresh peas from pods, rinse and drain.  Allow 3/4 cups fresh shelled peas for each serving.
In a large pot, heat about 1 tablespoon olive or vegetable oil.  (Meat lovers may use bacon fat.)  Saute 1/2 cup chopped onion until translucent.  Add peas and enough water to cover.  Season with salt and pepper, to taste.  Stir and bring to a boil.  Lower heat, cover pot and allow peas to simmer until they are the texture you prefer, anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours.
Serve with hot cornbread. 

Cooked only in water, Granny's peas make a hearty pot liquor broth

Boots on the Ground Spell Sole Work

"You spelled your name wrong."  I was working, with my daughter, Kate, to set up our farmer's market booth in Blowing Rock and I looked up to see a man standing beside our sign.  He pointed a finger at the board.  "Sole.  It's supposed to be s-o-u-l."  I smiled at his smug face as I responded.  "Sir, you do not understand what I do."

It takes sole work to produce soul food

Years since that interaction, I often speak with people who attempt to correct my spelling, but gardeners who coax food from soil realize farming is its own "boots on the ground" job.  When I work in the fields, freshly plowed or covered with mile-high weeds, sturdy boots protect and support my feet and help to propel me from one task to the next.  Intense summer sunshine bakes both soil and soles and the vehicle's air conditioning brings welcome relief when I drive home after working in the heat.  Underfoot, ice crystals sometimes crunch as I harvest winter crops.  This week, after days of torrential downpours, knee-high waterproof boots kept my feet dry as I harvested Bok Choy, late tomatoes and fall greens.  Quicksand-like mud pulled at my ankles, threatening to toss me to the ground, but with the help of my boots, I traversed pools of standing water and stayed upright while I worked. 

Rubber boots protect feet from treacherous mud

Soon after we began to farm, Richard and I discovered the joy of harvesting and eating the fruits of our labor and we regard fresh produce as food for the body, mind and soul, but without sole work, it is not possible to grow a successful crop.  Sole work makes us more grateful for all food.  After losing almost an entire crop of butterbeans to hungry deer and groundhog attacks, the unexpected gift of the same variety of beans from a fellow gardener was a pleasant surprise.  Knowing the sole work behind the gift deepens my appreciation and enriches the bean flavor.

Worn soles reflect the day's toil

When shopping for soul food at the farmer's market, pause to consider the physical, financial and emotional investments made by sole workers who offer their wares.  Marvel at how each plant began life as a seed and offer thanks to those who humanely raised the protein ingredients you enjoy.  Occasionally, trade your street shoes for a pair of working boots and prepare to find yourself humbled by sole work as you grow your own food.

A potato heart sits in a boot print

 

Exceptional Heirloom Eggplants

Just when I thought this summer's eggplant crop was a total failure, those tenacious plants produced colorful, delicious fruit. Despite attacks from Colorado potato, Harlequin and flea beetles, worms, deer and my Personal Arch Nemesis, the aptly named GROUNDHOG, the eggplants are sporting an abundant crop of babies.  As with other summer crops, my task is to preserve flavor for the coming winter.

 

Baby eggplants are perfect for pickling

One of my family's favorite eggplant treats is a pickled version I store in the refrigerator.  These tangy slices are uniquely eggplant-flavored and are delicious pizza toppings, antipasti components, fried rice or pasta sauce additives or finger food, fished from the jar.  Baby eggplants are best for this recipe, but for optimum flavor, harvest all eggplants before seeds turn dark.  

Do not peel baby eggplants; the skin colors are beautiful in this dish

Pickled Eggplant

Select several small eggplants.  Check to be sure skins are unblemished and flesh is firm.  Wash fruit and dry.  Use a sharp knife to slice into 1/4 inch slices.  A variety of heirlooms, with smooth skins, will add color and visual interest to this preparation.  Inside a large bowl, fit a colander that leaves enough space to allow eggplants slices to drain. 

Arrange eggplant slices in a single layer for best drainage

Place eggplant slices in a single layer and liberally sprinkle with kosher or sea salt.  Carefully top the eggplant with another bowl that weights the eggplant, forcing liquid to drain from the slices.  I use the bowl from a mortar and pestle to add pressure.  Store the eggplant in a refrigerator overnight.  

The heavy bowl of a mortar and pestle helps press liquid from eggplant slices

The following day, use your hands to toss the drained eggplant slices in a large bowl with about 1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar.  Do not worry about rinsing the salt from the slices; it will add to the flavor of the finished product.  Place a whole garlic clove and several peppercorns in the bottom of a wide-mouth glass jar, either pint or quart, depending upon the amount of eggplant.  Fill the jar about 1/3 with eggplant and then add fresh herbs.  I like oregano, basil, thyme and parsley, but feel free to experiment with herbs and spices.  Slice a couple of peppers, hot, sweet or both, and slide the halves between the eggplant and the glass.  Layer the eggplant with herbs and/or peppers and use fingers to press the contents.  When the jar is full, leaving about 1/2 inch headspace, fill with good quality olive oil.  Wipe the jar rim with a clean cloth, screw on a lid and store in the refrigerator. 

Fresh peppers and herbs add beauty and flavor to pickled eggplant

The olive oil will solidify in the refrigerator, so allow the jar to stand at room temperature for about an hour before using.  After a couple of weeks, the eggplant will absorb enough flavor from the herbs and spices to use, but will be more delicious after a few months.  That is, if it lasts that long!

Real Friends Share Recipes

We all know cooks who, rather than share a special recipe, will take the secret ingredients to the grave.  Years ago, my mother-in-law, Tut Barlowe, belonged to a book club and one of the members prided herself on a delicious green bean casserole she often served at meetings.  Although members begged for the recipe, the cook would not divulge it.  Each time the casserole was served, members whispered about possible ingredients and speculated about cooking techniques.  Finally, Tut came up with her own recreation of the dish she loved.  Perhaps it is not exactly the same recipe, but when Tut makes her green bean casserole for family gatherings, there are never leftovers. 

Recently, a friend and former coworker, Karen Watson Tolbert, shared a recipe with me that will always be in my late-summer arsenal.  Originally part of the "Miles Away Farm Blog," the post for "August is for Tomatoes" ( http://milesawayfarm.wordpress.com/2014/08/12/august-is-for-tomatoes/) includes this super-easy and delicious recipe.  As is the case with the best recipes, this one came to Karen by way of another friend, Margaret Greer.  Sometimes, tracking the source of recipes is akin to tracing genealogical roots.  Whatever the primary source may be, this roasted tomato sauce recipe is a fabulous way to use heirloom tomatoes that are just-on-the-verge of becoming compost.  So far, my freezer is holding twelve batches of this recipe, but with a few late tomato plants, I just might do a couple more runs. . .

Fresh herbs & garlic chive blossom heads add flavor to roasted tomatoes

Visit the Miles Away Farm Blog for the original recipe, but feel free to add your own special touches.  With a bumper crop of heirloom peppers, I usually add some hot Thai peppers or sweet Jimmy Nardellos, tuck in some fresh oregano, garlic chive blossom heads or whatever is growing in the herb or vegetable garden that calls to me.  Splashes of balsamic or herbed vinegar add flavor depth.  Both Karen and Margaret add their own special touches with this recipe and each achieves a finished product that satisfies and delights their families. 

Roasting tomatoes emit a tantalizing kitchen fragrance

"Bruise like a banana" is a familiar quote, but for heirloom tomato growers, no fruit bruises more easily than a perfectly ripe love apple.  For that reason alone, it is nearly impossible for supermarkets to stock heirloom tomatoes.  When I harvest Great White tomatoes, using small, sharp pruners to snip the fruit from the vine, carefully place the tomatoes in a basket and drive them home, I invariably find bruises on the soft flesh, signaling spots that will quickly deteriorate.  Thankfully, the roasted tomato sauce recipe is a simple way to preserve the flavor of these precious fruits. 

Blemished fruit finds a purpose in the Roasted Tomato Sauce recipe

You may use a food processor or blender to process the finished roasted product, but an immersion blender makes that step a breeze.  Ease the roasted fruit, vegetables and herbs into a pot, whirl the stick blender throughout the mixture and use the results for a rich spaghetti or lasagna sauce base, add a bit of cream for a hearty soup or spread the sauce on pizza crust.  One taste will inspire you to create a variety of delicious dishes.  

For that green bean casserole recipe, visit www.seedtales.com and look for "Tut's Fresh Green Bean Casserole" under the summer recipes.  Both Tut and I agree, recipes should never be secret . . .