Squash Baby Stolen!

Squash Baby's empty cage

This morning we woke to find that Squash Baby had been taken during the night.

Erik just returned from searching the neighborhood, hoping to find traces, remanants or, heaven help us, the perp him or herself.  Needless to say, he is cursing. He'd planned on harvesting Squash Baby today, so it is particularly heartbreaking. It had stopped adding inches (I believe it held at 36"), and had started taking on golden tones.

I only hope that the people who took it plan on eating it. If it's feeding a family (which it could do for several days), that's fine. If some kids took it and smashed in an alley...well, that's best not pondered. Forensic examination of the stem stump, however, reveals that the perp did not use a knife, but rather pried the squash* free. This speaks ominously to an impulse theft.

Once I saw a Buddhist monk on TV. He held up a pretty glass and said, "This glass is already broken."  My attitude toward Squash Baby has always been, "This squash is already stolen." But poor Erik was much attached to the squash, and his head was filled with images of squash galettes and squash gnocchi and squash soup.  He wanted to have a squash butchering party.  Now he's hunched over his breakfast cereal, disconsolate, and muttering about never planting anything in the parkway again.

He harvested Squash Sibling this morning, though it could have grown some more, I believe.  We're hoping it's ripe enough for good eating. It's no inconsiderable squash, despite being the runt of the litter. It measures 22 inches.

Next year we will plant Lunga di Napoli again, far from the street.

* N.B. Squash Baby was technically a pumpkin, as noted in a previous post.

Least Farvorite Plant:--Heavenly Bamboo--Neither Heavenly nor Bamboo

Chickens assist in heavenly bamboo removal.

About a year ago, while searching for a spot for our new and larger compost pile, Mrs. Homegrown suggested ripping out a stand of heavenly bamboo (Nandina domestica) that occupied a shady spot in a corner of our backyard. My reaction? I think I said something like, "No way, it's been there for twelve years and it took forever to reach three feet."

Some time later Homegrown Neighbor came over and took a look at the yard. She said, "Why don't you rip out that awful heavenly bamboo." Once again I ignored the suggestion.

Last week Tara Kolla of Silver Lake Farms came over to rethink the garden. Eying the heavenly bamboo she scowled and demanded, "rip it out," noting that it was ugly, diseased and caked with Los Angeles smog dust.

A few hour later I ripped it out. Needless to say Mrs. Homegrown is dismayed that it takes two experts to confirm something before I'll listen to her advice.

Marital landscaping disputes aside, it's not that this plant is inherently evil, it's just not that interesting. Heavenly bamboo is not a bamboo It's a member of the Berberidaceae or Barberry family. All parts of the plant are poisonous except to birds who can ingest the berries.While it's draught tolerant (we never watered it), I don't miss it. Typically, you see it tucked into forlorn plantings alongside 1960s era bank buildings. I suppose it provides some fodder for the birds, but that's about it. Perhaps in some Japanese fantasy garden it would fit in next to the tea house, but we ain't got no tea house.

I guess the lesson here, in addition to listening to your wife, is that gardens change and you've got to change with them. As Heraclitus said, "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man." Gardens, especially, should celebrate that impermanence. Now I have the beginnings of a big compost pile where it once stood.

We'll detail some of the other changes we're making in future posts and put up some before pictures. Stay tuned.

Farmers Markets: Buyer Beware

A local Los Angeles NBC news report "False Claims, Lies Caught on Tape at Farmers Markets" detailed something I've known about for a long time: some of the food sold at farmers markets comes not from local farms, but from wholesale sources. In short, some dishonest farmers market sellers are reselling the same inferior produce you get at the supermarket for a lot more money. And it gets worse. NBC also uncovered evidence of lying about pesticide use, also not surprising.

A farmer who runs an orchard visited us before this report came out and backed up what NBC later reported. She warned me never to buy from stands at farmers markets where the fruit is all the same size and looks too perfect. It's a sign they just took the truck to a downtown wholesale warehouse and loaded it up.She also said that many farmers will mix their own produce with wholesale produce.

This report came out just after two supermarket chains, Safeway and Albertsons, created fake farmer's markets inside and outside of their stores.

Yet more reasons to grow your own fruits and vegetables if you have space. Lying about the source of produce and pesticide use is so easy to pull off and the price incentive so rewarding that I'm sure this is happening everywhere. I'm interested in hearing other reports, so have at it in the comments.

Flower Gardening Class at the Huntington

Our friend Tara Kolla is teaching a flower gardening class at the Huntington Library and Gardens in San Marino this coming Saturday Oct. 2nd from 10 a.m. to noon. From the class description:

"Save money at the flower market by growing your own organic blooms. Urban farmer Tara Kolla of Silver Lake Farms shares tips for growing seasonal flowers that make beautiful arrangements in the home."

I can't say enough good things about Kolla--she's our go-to person when we have gardening questions and, if you've seen her booth at local farmer's markets, you'll know why this class is not to be missed. Members: $40. Non-Members: $50. Registration: 626-405-2128. More information here.

Motuv-ated

We received a very nice letter from Amanda Lazorchack who, along with her partner Dane Zahorsky, are teaching a 7th grade sustainability class at the Kansas City Academy. They're using our book The Urban Homestead as a textbook and sent a long a few pictures of what they are up to with their group, Motuv.

Lazorchack wrote, "It's almost as if we woke up one day and realized that we didn't know how to grow our own food and that that was a huge problem so we better get to teaching ourselves." Amen!

We're inspired by what they're doing, and hope you might be, too.

Thanks, Motuv, for showing us what you're doing!

Here's some pics:

Pallets make great compost bins--I really like the paint job--much nicer than ours.

Motuv's corn!

Motuv's tomatoes!

Hops Growing Resources

Reader Matt sent a couple of detailed links on growing hops. First an organic hops growing manual (pdf) by Rebecca Kneen of the Left Fields organic farm in British Columbia. Secondly, a PowerPoint presentation by hops farmer and breeder Jason Perrault here (pdf) along with the transcript here (pdf). I'm going to go through these resources before transferring the hops I've been growing in containers to the ground in the spring.

Thanks Matt and happy brewing to all!

Bean Fest, Episode 6: Walton's Serbian Lima Beans

Mrs. Homegrown here:

Welcome back to Bean Fest, our Friday focus on the wonderful world of beans.

Our friend, Walton, sent in this recipe, which he got from friends. I don't know anything about its Serbian-ness--whether this is a traditional dish there, or what. Maybe some of you can enlighten us. (I forgot to ask Walton.)

[ETA: Walton wrote in. It is a genuine Serbian dish. The recipe was given to Walton by his friend's mom, Mrs. Milosavljevic. Thank you, Mrs. Milosavljevic!]

What I can tell you is that it is amazing: full of flavor and almost dangerously rich. If you know anyone who thinks eating beans for dinner is akin to wearing a hair shirt, make these for them. Dried Lima beans have a buttery taste on their own. Add to that a huge quantity of olive oil, and the scrumptious umami-savoriness of long-cooked onions, and you've got a palette paradise.

I'd classify these as a special occasion food, because they are so rich. One modest serving will fill you up. We ate them as a main dish with a basic green salad, which works nicely to counterbalance their oiliness, and had hunks of bread to sop up the juice. This recipe would work well as a side dish, of course. They'd also do well on a holiday table.

And best of all, they're easy to make. They don't have many ingredients, and there's nothing complex about their cooking. They just take a little longer than most beans because of the time in the oven.

This is the recipe as he sent it:


Serbian Lima Beans

    * 1 lb small lima beans

    * 1 1/4 cups oil

    * 1 1/4 lbs sliced or chopped onions

    * 1 tspn pepper

    * 2 tspn salt

    * 2 tspn paprika

    * crushed red pepper / chili powder to taste

    * couple bay leaves

recipe

    * cook lima beans according to package (do not over cook; will cook a bit more in the baking process later)

    * fry onions in oil stirring frequently til very limp/well cooked (think near mush)

    * add spices to onions, mix thoroughly. Taste and adjust according to taste.

    * add well drained lima beans to onion mix (reserve some lima bean water)

    * pour into 9 x 13 baking dish; you want there to be some fluid (to bake in); if dry add some reserved lima bean water

    * insert bay leaves into beans in dish

    * bake, covered, at 375 for 30 minutes

    * bake uncovered, at 350 for 15-20 minutes til golden brown (take care not to burn)

Walton's Notes:

• I would suggest putting the bay leaves in the water with the beans when you first start cooking them.
• Also, this seems like a lot of olive oil, but it really makes the flavor, so I'd suggest you use some kind of tasty extra-virgin with a strong character. 
• The onions should be caramelized slowly, barely making any noise while they cook down. This is the other strong flavor of the dish. Start the onions during the last hour of the beans boiling.

Buon appetito!

This is what they look like fresh out of the oven

Mrs. Homegrown's notes:

Not much to add here.  FYI 3 not-too-large yellow onions = 1 1/4 lbs.

I goofed by not reading the recipe correctly, so I caramelized the onions solo, instead of in the 1 1/4 cups of oil. (For some cracky reason I thought the oil was added later.) I had to back paddle and simmered the finished onions in the oil for about 10 minutes, hoping the flavor would infuse into the oil in that time. I think it worked. The mind boggles to think it might have been even better if I'd cooked it correctly.

Do be sure to cook the onions a nice long time, as Walton noted. That is the key to the recipe, and a point I don't want anyone to miss.

The only thing I was unclear on was how much bean water to add back into the baking dish before cooking. Figuring wet beans are always much better than dry, burnt beans, I poured the reserved water into the dish until it just barely covered the top layer of beans. Then sealed the baking dish with foil. That seemed to work just perfectly.

Woman Fights Off Bear with Zucchini

Stop it, lady! Hey! Ouch!

Many thanks to Heather who left a link this in our most recent Squash Baby post, asking if we planned to use our Squash Baby to fend off bears.

It's true! A woman bested a bear with a squash. Witness this article on the website of Montana television news station, KXLH. See photos of the very zucchini which smote the bear! Admire the heroic collie, who was wounded in the fray! (but will be okay.) Marvel at the sturdy jeans worn by the Squash Warrior, torn by the bear's fearsome claws.

And to answer Heather's question, I have no doubt that Squash Baby could lay a bear flat, the only problem is that I'm not sure I have the upper body strength to swing it around! Good thing the only bears in our neighborhood are found in bars.

Backyard Rebirth

Our shack as spied by Google.

Our yard is a disaster. There's some randomly planted natives, vegetable beds lying fallow after a mediocre summer and large areas of, well, nothing. However, this ongoing landscaping disaster brought a valuable lesson: sometimes it's best to bring in someone from outside the household for design advice, particularly if that person knows what they are doing. Thank you Tara Kolla of Silver Lake Farms for being that person.

Yards develop emotional baggage and it's easy to get stuck in a rut. Kolla came up with a lot of simple ideas that we would never have thought of in a million years. We'll document the changes we make as we begin planting and hardscaping over the next few months (our quirky Mediterranean climate means that late fall is one of our prime planting seasons). Now, I gotta go fetch the machete.

Squash Baby's Sibling

Squash Sibling sleeps tight under wire mesh and specious warnings

Mrs. Homegrown here:

A quick update on the squash baby circus. There's a surprise addition to the family. In my first post, I said one of our two squashes had been stolen, leaving us with only one squash, which provoked Erik's Guantanomoization of our front yard. In turns out there was a tiny 3rd baby hiding under a big leaf. We didn't notice it for a while. But like zucchini, these things grow incredibly fast, so it became infant-sized in the blink of an eye. Erik fitted it with its very own chicken wire security blanket and positioned a warning sign right in front of it.

Squash Sibling measures 20 inches. The Original Squash Baby (tm) is now a squash toddler, is holding at 36 inches, and requesting its own Twitter account.

Note of interest: Craig over at Garden Edibles, who sold Erik the squash baby seeds (Lunga di Napoli) points out that "Squash Baby" is really "Pumpkin Baby" -- or perhaps "Punkin Baby"--because the Lunga di Napoli is, in fact, a pumpkin. A darned funny looking pumpkin.

Pot o' Goodness: Low, Low-Tech Water Conservation

Mrs. Homegrown here:

Continuing on the greywater theme, on big cooking days, when I'm doing a lot of boiling, steaming, soaking and rinsing, I collect all that used water in a big pot and take it out to the garden to water the plants. It's full of nutrients, and won't cause any blackwater* problems as long as you:

• Use it immediately. It will turn foul if left to sit too long.
• Pour it straight into the soil--don't splash it all over edible leaves. Remember, soil purifies water.
• Don't use water full of food chunks or grease, as this will attract vermin and cause smells.

I know it's only a little bit water that I'm saving by doing this, but to me it's a symbolic act, almost a prayer. And heck, it hasn't rained here since March, so every bit counts. Also, the plants really like the super-water. I think of it as a smoothie for them.

Another option is to re-use cooking waters as stock. This is something I don't know much about. Sometimes I'll take some nice bright green water leftover from steaming or blanching greens and use that to start a vegetable stock. But I've heard of people using pasta water as the base of soups. Have any of you tried that, or other techniques along those lines? Do tell.

And let us know if you have any quirky ways of saving water.


*What's blackwater? It's water which is dirtier than greywater, and therefore not usually recycled. Typically this is water coming from the toilet and the kitchen sink. Food particles from the sink turn septic quickly, and grease and heavy soap are not good for soil. However, our greywater guru, Art Ludwig, does say that kitchen sink water is nutrient rich, and suggests workarounds that allow sink water re-use, like grease traps or plumbing the sink so only the rinse water goes to the garden.

Greywater Fed Tomato Plant Takes Over The World

Homegrown Neighbor Here:

So a few months ago Mr. Homegrown helped me install a simple 'laundry to landscape' greywater system. Most of the plants that get watered by the system didn't get much water before and were just barely surviving. There are several fruit trees, a rhubarb plant and an assortment of perennial herbs lining a narrow strip of land along the side of the house. Now, the plants getting fed by the greywater are going bonkers.

Last week the area became impassable it was so overgrown. The path along the side of the house had disappeared. I have the laundry water going to the sewer half the time because I don't want to overwater. That and my roommate bought some non-greywater friendly soap. So I really only run one or two loads of laundry a week into the yard. But that has been more than enough.

Yesterday I hacked my way through the overgrowth and tried to train the rampant cherry tomato plant. The tomatoes are delicious. I eat them constantly when I'm in the yard and pawn them off on friends and family whenever I can. Still, there are tomatoes in areas that I can no longer get too. The tomato plant has killed my apple tree I think. I can't see the apple tree under it anymore. The tomato plant is about eight feet tall and equally wide. It is reaching for the roof, using the poor buried apple tree as its support. I tried to photograph the madness, but it just looks like an indeterminable tangle and doesn't really show what is going on.

But now I have reclaimed a path along the side of the house. If just an occasional load of laundry can provide such a boost to this little patch of land, I wonder what all of the other water used in the house could do. I would have to get rid of all of the low-water and native plantings and go tropical! It just goes to show how much water we use in our homes every day and don't really think about where it goes. Eventually I would love for all of the water from our showers and sinks to go to the yard as well, but for now, the washing machine is creating a little tropical oasis and that's plenty.

Behind the Scenes of a Euell Gibbons Grape Nuts Ad

Every decade has its celebrity forager. The aughts gave us Survivorman, but back in the 1960s and 70s Euell Gibbons stalked all that wild asparagus. This odd film, from the Academic Film Archive of North America, takes you behind the scenes of the creation of an iconic Grape Nuts ad staring Gibbons.

And the branding synergies between foragers and marketers continues--Survivorman pimps for auto insurer Geico--but, personally, I'll take Gibbons and his wild cranberries, thank you.

Another gem from archive.org.

Hens Busy Dust Bathing

It's difficult to capture the cuteness of this chicken behavior with a still camera--we really should try to make a  video.  Anyway, this is called "dusting" or "dust bathing." The ladies have dug a hole in our yard and are gleefully rolling around in it, flicking loose dirt under their wings and driving it between their feathers. This is an innate behavior and an important part of chicken hygiene. Dusting suffocates skin parasites that prey on chickens, and it also seems to be pleasurable for the hens, judging by their blissful expressions.

After dusting they puff up and shake off, and settle in to do fine cleaning by preening. When they're done, they're all pretty and shiny.

It's really important that chickens have constant access to dirt--loose, dry, sandy dirt--so they can dust at will. If for whatever reason your chickens don't have this access, whether that's because they're being raised in a concrete floor, or are trapped inside because of bad weather, or your chicken run is swamped with mud, or whatever, it's a smart thing to provide them with a tray of dirt so they can bathe. Dusting is nature's favored method of insect control.

ETA: To give you some indication of size, a kitty litter tray would be a good size for a few hens to share, a cement mixing tray for a bigger flock.


Warning: Rant Ahead

We first got our own hens because we disagreed with the industrial style of raising chickens and farming eggs.  But at the time that disagreement was purely theoretical--now it's stronger than ever, because it's based on practice. The more we know, and experience the fundamentals of chicken life, the more appalling the industrial practices become.  One fundamental is that chickens are designed to live on dirt. They love to scratch, peck, dig and bathe in it. Take dirt away from them and you have to scramble to make up for that deficit in unnatural ways. Being unable to scratch, chickens get bored and peck at each other--so their beaks have to be cut off. Deprived of the ability to dust, they get mites and lice, and have to be treated with pesticides. It's just sad.

Lloyd Kahn on Shelter

SHELTER from jason sussberg on Vimeo.

Jason Sussberg has made a nice film about author and publisher Lloyd Kahn. In this short film, Kahn sums up exactly what our dwelling places need, "Shelter is more than a roof overhead--it's a feeling of warmth and security."

And, incidentally, how many people do you know who can skateboard that gracefully at the age of 75?

For more inspiration head over to Lloyd's Blog.

Evolution is Evolving

Mrs. Homegrown hard at work reconfiguring the Blog-O-Nator

 Mrs. Homegrown here:

We're going to be doing some redecorating and redesign on this site over the next few weeks. The main reason we're doing this is to make the blog more useful and accessible. This means, to start, that we're going to clean up the tags and rearrange all the links and stuff on the right side of the page.

Then, a little bit down the road, we're going to change our look. (!!!) I know it's always a little traumatic when a blog you read regularly redesigns itself, but let's face it, the place needs a fresh coat of paint. But again, that won't be a for a bit.

In the meanwhile, forgive any weirdness that might occur as we figure out what we're doing.

Bean Fest, Episode 5: Black-Eyed Pea Salad (Lubyi Msallat)

We still haven't learned to take the picture before we start to eat--and were too impatient to keep eating to take a close-up! Chick pea salad, pita and sheep's cheese.

Mrs. Homestead here:

This week's Bean Fest installment comes from a cookbook we've been trying out over the last week called Vegetarian Dishes from Across the Middle East, by Arto der Haroutunian. These recipes really fit well with our kitchen just now, considering its emphasis on classic summer vegetables (like eggplants, cucumbers and tomatoes) and bulk bin foods like beans and grains.

This black-eyed pea appetizer (meze) is of Syrian-Lebanese origin and is easy to prepare. All you have to do is boil up the beans* and then make a dressing for them. Erik said it reminded him a little of a tabouleh, except it had beans instead of grains.

*Black-eyed peas (aka cow peas) are beans. Sometimes they are called black-eyed beans, in fact. What's the difference between beans and peas? Both are members of the legume family, but pea plants have tendrils, while bean plants do not.  That's the easiest distinction to make, though I'm sure it gets more complicated the more you know.

Lubyi Msallat

1 cup dried black-eyed peas, soaked overnight
1 clove garlic
1 tsp salt
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 small onion, finely diced
3 tablespoons finely chopped parsley
1 tsp ground cumin
1/3 cup olive oil

Cook the beans:

Drain the soaking water off the beans and put them in a saucepan. Cover with a couple of inches of fresh water and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook until the the beans are tender (but not mushy), adding water as necessary.  As you do this, try not to be envious of people with pressure cookers.

Prep the dressing:

The book says "crush the garlic and salt together" so I used our mortar and pestle to grind the salt into the garlic clove.  (I imagine you might be able to do the same in a bowl with the bottom of a sturdy glass. Otherwise, I'd either mince or press the garlic and add the salt to the salad separately.)

Then, after the garlic and salt are crushed, mix the lemon juice into the garlic-salt paste. (Again, this could be added separately).

Combine everything:

Drain the beans well, maybe rinse them too, as black-eyed peas seem prone to generate some scum when cooking. Toss them with the chopped onion and parsley.  Now add the salt-garlic-lemon juice and the cumin. Mix everything thoroughly.  Pour the oil over the top.  Garnish with paprika, if desired, and lemon wedges.

Serve hot or cold or room temperature, along with pita bread. A great picnic food, or just to keep in the fridge for a quick lunch or healthy snack.

Tune in next week for another episode of Bean Fest!

Backyard Orchard Culture

How small can you go? An image from the Dave Wilson website demonstrating one way to keep a fruit tree a manageable size.

Damn. I wish I had heard this lecture twelve years ago when we bought our house. "Rock star orchardist" Tom Spellman, a sales manager with Dave Wilson nursery, gave a remarkable talk last night on how to create your own backyard orchard. He began by dismissing most advice on growing fruit trees, noting that it is intended for commercial orchards and is completely irrelevant for backyard fruit growers. Few of you reading this blog, after all, have to worry about having space to maneuver a tractor. Spellman outlined what he considers the three key components of a successful small scale backyard orchard:

1. Successive harvest. With careful choice of varieties you can create a mini orchard that produces consistently throughout the year (or growing season in colder climates). You don't want a bunch of trees that all ripen in July. In his own yard Spellman planted four varieties of avocados, each of which produce fruit at different times, so that he can have a crop year round. You could also, say, plant three kinds of peaces that each mature successively. Or, plant a fig, an apple tree, a pomegranate and a lemon tree that will produce in different months. The Dave Wilson nursery has a handy ripening sequence chart, that you can use to plan what to plant.

2. Size control. Basically you don't want fruit trees in a backyard orchard, you want fruit shrubs. Rather than one 30-foot tree in a 10 by 12 space, plant four or more and prune them vigorously so that their  branches are within easy reach. The possibilities for intensive fruit tree planting are endless: trees can be planted four or even six in one hole, espaliered, grafted, arranged into hedges, even braided together. But whatever the techinque, the goal is the same--tight spacing, short trees. You don't want to have to go up on a ladder to harvest, and you don't want 300 pounds of apples all at one time. Follow commercial standards and you'll have huge, hard to manage fruit trees in your backyard. Follow Spellman's backyard orchard guidelines and you'll have many small trees and never be without fruit.

3. Grow what you will use. Spellman told the story of someone who went down to their local big box store and bought six trees for five dollars each. The problem was that he had bought six quince trees and did not know what to do with the fruit. Grow flavorful varieties that you can't buy at the market. One quince tree is fine (we have one) but six is way too many.

We like this: Shovelgloving

cute cats shamelessly stolen from Shovelglove homepage

Mrs. Homegrown here:

Just a note to point you to a site rec'd by one of our commenters in our last post. It's for a DIY exercise system based on swinging a sledgehammer around: http://www.shovelglove.com.

Swinging around a padded sledgehammer, that is, like the one the cats are inspecting above. (Though frankly I'm not too convinced that a sweater will do much to protect anything from a sledgehammer. Okay, maybe it will protect the floor from accidental scratches, but I think those cats better not be lulled into complacency by its fuzzy, friendly appearance.)

A New Fitness Craze: The Kayak Balance Stool

Today I canceled my YMCA membership and started to put together my own home gym. Bored with the usual gym accouterments, I've set out to build some fitness equipment on my own starting with a kayak balance stool.

I discovered this idea in Christopher Cunningham's book Building the Greenland Kayak. To make your kayak balance stool, find a piece of scrap wood. I used a 2 x 8 and cut it to fit my ass to toe dimensions. Cut two end boards, each a foot long. Attach the end boards to the sittin' board with some bolts or sturdy screws. The deeper the curve on the bottom of the end boards, the more tippy it gets. Cunningham suggests a depth of 1 1/2 inches to start. I'd suggest making that curve a bit on the "pointy" side, as any flatness will lead to a lack of tippitude.

Why do this? I've been taking a few kayak lessons lately which have showcased my inflexible hamstrings. Mrs. Homegrown describes my flexibility as that of a ginger bread man and my swimming as being like, "throwing a 2 by 4 in the water." I'm hoping spending a few minutes a day on the kayak simulator will improve flexibility and strengthen core muscles that keep you steady in the water while kayaking. I'll note my bad form in the animation above. I'm guessing it's better to use your core to stabilize, rather than moving your legs.

According to Cunningham Inuit children in Greenland got a meaty bone to nibble on while they practiced on one of these things. I'm going to skip the bone for some reading material and slowly increase my time on the board.

For a fancy kayak balance board tip yourself over here.

Note from Mrs. Homestead:

Came home last night to find Erik had made this highly attractive new toy on the porch. I was actually somewhat intrigued, because it looks like it could be used to build core strength whilst reading cheap novels. Top that, pilades!

A few observations from first use. First, only Skinny-Butt Erik could seat himself comfortably on an 8" wide plank. I'm discomforted by the issue of...um...overhang. Most folks would be well-advised to make the plank more along the the lines of 10 -12".  12" boards are hard to find, but the seat could be made of a 3 2x4"s. 

Beyond that, I also found the 1 1/2" rise a little too easy to master. But we've learned you can make it harder by putting your feet flat on the board, thus changing your center of gravity.  Nonetheless, we'll probably be making the curve steeper very soon.

Hops in Containers Update

"And I behold in breath of space
The autumn's winter sleep.
The summer's life has given
Itself into my keeping."
-Rudolf Steiner The Calendar of the Soul Week 23

We're going to drink "summer's life" this winter. Year two of my hops (Humulus lupulus) in self irrigating pot experiment has yielded enough of a crop for at least one batch of beer. Read more about how we grew our containerized hops here. Some things I've learned:

1. There are two types of hops, bittering and aroma. Beer recipes call for both. Find out what varieties of hops grow in your climate, choose a type of beer you like, and plant at least one aroma and one bittering variety for hops self-sufficiency. I settled on cascade (very easy to grow) and nugget, both of which, when combined, make for a nice American pale ale.

2. Plant your hops somewhere where you will see them every day. I've enjoyed watching our hops bines grow just outside our bedroom window. They've come to symbolize summer for me as well as a restful night's sleep. Plus the harvest window is brief and you need to keep a close eye on those cones--when the they get papery it's time to pick them. I dry them for a few hours in our solar dehydrator, but you could also just let them dry for a few days inside with a fan pointed at them. After drying they go into bags in the freezer.

3. Plant hops in such a way that you can access them for easy harvest. Hops grow upwards of ten to twenty feet and beyond. If you can harvest them safely without cutting them down you might be able to squeeze more than one crop out of them in a season.

4. Hops need rich soil. I'm considering putting them in the ground next year with a lot of compost. I fertilized them in their containers, but clearly they could have used more nutrients. I did not get as much of a crop as I did the first year.

5. Hops are apparently deadly to dogs, so  be careful if you have a pooch. I don't know if they will eat them off the bine, but they'll definitely try to get them in the compost pile.

6. Prune to the strongest two bines for each plant and train them in a "V" shape. It's really important to keep different varieties labeled and separate so, come harvest time, you know which one is which.

While painting the south side of our house I put up a pulley and rope system so that I can grow more hops. The pulleys will enable me to lower the bines during the August/September harvest season. More on our hops planting plans next spring.

Hipster Honeybear

Mrs. Homegrown here:

Erik puts molasses in his coffee and keeps the molasses in an old honeybear. I'm endlessly amused by the honeybear's resulting mustache. Now, if he just had the handlebar mustache, I'd take him for a hip kid, one of those boys in tight jeans pedaling their fixie whips around the neighborhood. But it looks like he's got a soul patch, too. So he's either a refugee from the 90's (Grunge being the last great soul patch era), or perhaps a jazz musician? Or, if you squint and pretend his cap is a beret, a Frenchman.

Citron

The Citron (Etrog) and its anatomy.

I just attended a fascinating lecture by fruit expert David Karp on the history of the citron (Citrus medica) or etrog in Aramaic. I've only encountered citron in a candied form buried deep within a fruit cake. I've also seen the bizarre Buddha's Hand, another kind of citron popular in Asia as both food and medicine. What I did not know is the significance of citron in Jewish history. Citron is used in the rituals of the harvest festival of Sukkot. According to Karp, a tree mentioned in a passage in the Torah, "And you shall take for yourselves on the first day, the fruit of goodly trees." was, at some point, interpreted as citron.

For orthodox Jews the citron must be perfect. Teams of rabbis equipped with magnifying glasses and jeweler's loupes carefully inspect each fruit, with prized specimens going for several hundred dollars.  Karp said this has had unintended consequences. It's virtually impossible to grow perfect citron without pesticides. Workers in citron growing areas have increased rates of cancer. And it's forbidden under Jewish law to use the fruit of a grafted citron tree, or even a tree descended from a grafted tree, making growing healthy specimens even more difficult.

I have to say that after taste-testing citron products in the courtyard after the lecture I was not at all tempted to snag one of the trees that Karp gave away. And the intricacies of Jewish law make growing citron for ritual use an arduous and expensive proposition--sadly, citron will not be a road to riches for us, even in our perfect growing climate here in Los Angeles. We'll stick with our quince and apricot trees which, incidentally, along with citron are contenders for the forbidden fruit of the garden of Eden (most apples don't grow in Mediterranean climates). 

For more on the history of citron see, "The Secret Life of Etrogs" in the Jewish Journal.

Bean Fest, Episode 4: Frijoles Refritos

Refritos are not photogenic, so I decided to show the more tempting end use. Photo by Ernesto Andrade.

Mrs. Homegrown here:

I can't believe I've never made frijoles refritos--refried beans--before. All these years of scooping that suspicious stuff out of the can--what was I thinking??? Now I see refritos as the natural destiny of any leftover beans.

Refried beans (that name is a mistranslation--refrito means well cooked, not re-fried, but the name stuck) are simply cooked beans that are mashed in a frying pan along with some seasonings and fat. What makes them a little shady to the health conscious and vegetarian set is that they are traditionally fried in lard. But vegetable oil can be used just as well, and I'd add for the sake of fairness, that real, home cooked lard from well-raised pigs is not such a bad fat. For what it's worth.

To make refried beans you just need to have some cooked beans on hand, the classic choice being pintos.  In Tex-Mex cooking the pintos meant for refritos are first cooked with onion, garlic and a pork rind. Considering that refritos are fried in a bath in oil, garlic and onion, you could theoretically start with very plain boiled beans. But on the other hand, if the beans are tasty at the start, they'll just be all that more tasty after frying with yet more onion and garlic. Which brings us back to the idea of them being the perfect use for leftover beans. I think this would work well with any leftover beans, whatever the type.

Behold the Squash Baby

He'd lay down his life for his squash baby

Mrs. Homegrown here:

It's 36 inches long as of today, and mystifying passers-by. I think I underestimated its size in the first post, where I claimed it was 20 inches. It was probably closer to 30" at that point. The curvature makes it hard to judge. (I love the way it arches out of the raised bed--see the pic below). The thing is actually inching into the driveway now. Every time I pull the car into the garage I worry that I'll clip it.  How would I ever face Erik again?

(For backstory on this, click here.)

I wanted to remove the nasturtium and other leaves blocking the view of the squash for this photo, but Erik cried, "No, you'll ruin the camouflage!"

Thank you, everyone

Photo: Pénélope Fortier, from an article about us at Cyberpresse.ca

Mrs. Homegrown here:

We just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have expressed condolences this week via the blog, Facebook, or email--as well of those of you who just sent positive thoughts. We could feel the good energy. It's been a hard week, but your good wishes really helped. 

We're resuming regular posting. There's squash baby updates to be made!

Spike 1998-2010

Our much loved 12 year old Doberman passed tonight. It's been a horrible day spent going back and forth to the emergency vet, but he went fast, which was a blessing. Right now we're blindsided. The house feels like it has a crater in the middle of it. He's been with us since he was a puppy, so we really don't know how to get along without him anymore.

His name was Spike, unless it was Deiter, which was also his name. He was intelligent, intense, and as fiercely attached to us as we were to him. He was also gorgeous. We never tired of looking at him.

He was very healthy all his life, and only began to slow down in his last year. We attribute his longevity to the vast quantities of avocados and heirloom tomatoes he pilfered from our garden. He might have died of pancreatitis, but we're not sure, and probably will never know. 12 is quite old for a big Doberman male, so intellectually we know we had a good run with him. But right now all we want is to have our dog back.

Homegrown Evolution will be on hiatus for a couple of days.

***

ETA: Our friend Doug has posted a photo tribute to Spike at his website.

Back on the Yogurt Train: How to Make Yogurt

This is how I want my yogurt.

Dadiah, traditional West Sumatran water buffalo yogurt, fermented in bamboo segments. Courtesy of Wikimedia. Photo by Meutia Chaeran.

Mrs. Homegrown here:

One reason I make a lot of my own stuff is because I'm trying to avoid plastic packaging. And as I'm sure you know, that's pretty much impossible these days--but I do what I can. Lately I've realized that one consistent source of waste plastic in our kitchen comes in the form of yogurt tubs. This is a little silly, because we know how to make yogurt. In fact, I do believe we covered it in our book.

Thing is, back in the day when we made yogurt, it was Erik's job. When he slacked on it, I didn't even consider picking it up. Chalk it up to the mysteries of division of labor in a household.

Anyway, we went to see Mark Frauenfelder talk about his great new book, Made by Hand, and one of things he mentioned was how much he and his family are digging making their own yogurt--and how cost effective it's been for them. He inspired me to get back on the yogurt train.

It's so darn easy, we should all be on the yogurt train. One great thing about it is that it not only saves money, but it saves packaging, and gives you more bang for your milk buck. We only use milk for coffee around here, so sometimes our milk goes bad. Now we make most of it into yogurt and there's no waste, no excess packaging. And if we make some of that yogurt into yogurt cheese or use it instead of sour cream, that saves more packaging.

How to Make Yogurt:

Here's how I'm making yogurt these days--it might vary a little from Erik's methodologies in our book, but all yogurt making is basically the same. You'll need a cooler for this.

Gather together:

1. A cooler to keep the yogurt warm while it ferments. I'm sure there are many ways to keep yogurt warm, but I find the cooler straightforward, and that's what I'm going to describe here. We make two quarts at a time in a little six pack cooler.
   
2. Very clean canning-type jars
3. Hot water bottle (optional)
4. Towel(s) for insulation
5. Your last store bought container of yogurt. You need live yogurt to start the culture, only a few spoonfuls. The label should say something about containing live, active cultures. You'll need 1 Tablespoon of live yogurt for every quart of milk you're transforming.
   
6. Milk, of course. Make sure your milk doesn't say "Ultra Pasturized" or UP on the label. That stuff is just nasty. Otherwise, you can use whole, 2%, 1% -- and even skim, I presume, though I've never tried it. How much milk? As much as you want. But it seems to me that for the trouble, a quart would be the minimum it would be worthwhile making. After all, it keeps a long time. 

The procedure:

• Heat milk gently to 180 degrees Fahrenheit. If you've got a thermometer, great. If you don't, 180F is where the milk starts to simmer. Just watch for those first tiny bubbles to start rising. When they do, turn off the heat. (Heating the milk makes for thicker yogurt. You could skip this step if you like. I would skip it if I got my hands on some nice raw milk.)
• Let the milk cool down to about 110F. This is the only hard part--waiting for it to cool. 110F is about as hot as a hot bath. You can put your finger in it and keep it there.
  
• While you're waiting, boil water to heat your jars. I like to fill my jars with boiling water, cap them, and let them sit until it's time to use them, at which point I pour the water out. I know it's not really sterilization, but it's something, and it pre-heats the jars, which is important. You could also pull the jars straight from a hot dishwasher, or actually boil them. Also, you'll want to pre-heat your cooler. Pour hot water in it as well and let it sit until the last moment. And fill up your hot water bottle, if you have one.
  
• Stir in 1 Tablespoon of yogurt for every quart of milk in your pot. Use no more than that. Stir until dissolved.
• Transfer the inoculated milk into warm jars, cap them, and stuff them into the warm cooler (which you've emptied of water). Do all this fast so you don't lose much heat. Your mission is to fill the cooler up, so there's no empty space, with some combination of jars of yogurt, towels and heating devices like hot water bottles or lacking one of those, just more jars filled with hot water. My routine is to put 2 quart jars in a six pack cooler, slide a hot water bottle between them, and pack the top of the cooler with an old towel, so that I can just barely manage to lock the lid in place.
  
• The goal is to keep the yogurt very warm for about 8-12 hours. You might not be able to keep it at 110F the whole time, but it should be in that neighborhood. Certainly above body temperature. My set up described above seems to do that well enough. I've never checked the temp. inside, fearing to lose the heat. It just works.
  
• After 8-12 hours the milk in the jars should look yogurty and taste yogurty. It might not appear thick enough, but remember that it is quite warm. It will thicken some after it goes in the fridge.
• If it doesn't look yogurty at all, add a smidge more starter, rewarm the cooler and everything, and try it again for another 8 hours. Consider that your starter--your store bought yogurt--may not be alive. Either that or the cooler wasn't warm enough.

Mad Hen

One of our hens will be featured in the new Coco's Variety ad campaign. What's Coco's Variety you ask?

"Coco's Variety's primary business is bicycles. Additionally, we sell Japanese figural pencil erasers, used bike parts, old toolboxes, books worth owning, bike pumps, balsa wood gliders, pocket knives, Lodge cast iron frying pans, glass water bottles, Park bicycle tools, wicker bike baskets and Dutch bicycle cargo bags for the carting of fresh produce, the transportation of books of French poetry and the rescuing of kittens."

If you're not in Los Angeles, you can get a virtual Coco's experience on their awesome blog at: http://www.cocosvariety.com/.

Via the magic of the interwebs we offer you an exclusive behind the scenes look at Coco's proprietor Mr. Jalopy making advertising history:

Bean Fest, Episode 3: Bastardized Puerto Rican Beans

Mrs. Homegrown here:

It's been a tough week here on the bean front. I had two beanfail incidents trying to come up with a recipe for this week. The first, an Armenian recipe for white beans, failed through no fault of its own but because the beans were hopelessly old. No matter how long I cooked them, they stayed crunchy, yet somehow also tasted overcooked. Shudder.

Meanwhile, I'd been obsessing on Cuban-style black beans, but fell into a deep well of confusion--as so commonly happens when trying to find practical info. on the interwebs. Vinegar, sherry or wine? Sugar--really? How much? When does the sofrito go in? Is pork truly optional?

Last night I set aside my Cuban plans in frustration and opened up Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian--a generally solid cooking resource. He had a recipe for black beans and rice cooked together in a pot in the oven. Intrigued, I gave it a try. I won't disect the recipe here, but suffice it to say the results were perilously close to hippie slop. Erik thought it was not a bad recipe, just not one that can stand on its own. It was sort of like an extra hearty rice pilaf that perhaps wanted something big and savory to accompany it. We threw lots of Bulgarian feta on it and called it a night.

This morning I decided to try one more recipe for lunch, so I'd have something to post today. I'm glad I did, because it was super tasty. Hallelujah!!

It was sent in by one of our readers, John of Yome Sweet Yome. I'm glad he wrote in, because that way I discovered his blog. He and his partner I doing what I've always wanted to do: building their own house on a nice chunk of land in the beautiful Northwest. Go check it out. I think I might be doing some vicarious living via the blog reader for the next few months.

I like his voice, so I'm going to post the recipe as he sent it, rather than reshaping it into a more traditional recipe form, but I'll add some of my own notes, and hope they're more helpful than confusing.

John's Bastardized Puerto Rican Beans

One of my favorite recipes is a bastardized version on a traditional Puerto Rican dish. It goes like so...

Start them nice and early in the day and invite friends over for dinner. Slow is the only way.... Everything tastes better with a heavy dose of expectation....

The bean does not humor any shortcuts. Soak (at least) overnight.

Start cooking pre-soaked beans in lightly salted water (or broth, if you've got it lying around and feel decadent). Give them a bit of a head start before you start the rest of the dish.

• I made this with black beans (though later he says he usually uses pintos or reds). My beans measured 1 cup unsoaked, and after overnight soaking, 2 cups. You'd probably want to use more beans than that, but this was all I had pre-soaked. I put them in a saucepan, covered them with water, about an inch over the top of the beans, brought them to a boil and then reduced them to a simmer. I didn't salt the water, because I'm of the "salt toughens the skins" school. Do what thou wilt.

Finely chop up equal parts cilantro and parsley, stems and all. More than you think you'll need. A good handful of each.

• He doesn't mean a handful of chopped herbs--he means you should start with a big fat handful of stems. I used a full bunch of each, and it was not too much. See, you're going to cook the beejezus out of them, so they'll reduce. You need to start with lots. I really don't think you can use too much.

Saute diced yellow onion in oil, or rendered bacon fat, should you be of the persuasion. When they get translucent, toss in a generous amount of chopped garlic and your parsley and cilantro.

• I used one big onion and 3 or 4 large cloves of garlic. And I'd keep that 1 onion to 1 cup of dried beans proportion if I made a bigger batch. I did all of my chopping in the food processor. I usually chop onions and stuff with a knife, but I was in a hurry. In retrospect, I think it was good that everything was chopped very fine. So if you're knife chopping, put in that extra effort.

Cook until it turns somewhere between a hunter green and brown in color. Deglaze with white wine or stock.

• This made me laugh. Hunter green? I like that he was color specific because I am afraid of overcooking, so I tend to undercook. The herbs looked gorgeous when they hit the heat and turned bright green. That's where I would stop cooking if left to my own devices. But I understood that deglazing means scraping yummy brown bits off the bottom of a pan, and that meant that the herbs had to cook toward brown. Or at least hunter green. What this all means is that you will have to attend your onion/garlic/herb mix over medium heat, stirring pretty frequently, as you watch the pretty herbs turn from bright green to dull green. The onions will become more golden, and the volume will shrink down. I didn't take it to brown, but it was definitely drab by the time I called it quits. Sort of army green. I splashed white wine around the edges of the pan and stirred everything up to collect any caramelized bits. He says you can use stock to deglaze instead, but the wine really zings up the flavors. And the smell was heavenly.

Add some pureed tomato and mix until you have an applesauce-y consistency. Strain your beans and add them to the pan, adding just enough liquid keep them covered. Put the fire on low and let the whole shebang cook for a good long time, stirring it occasionally.

• Pureed tomato? hmmm... I wondered if he meant tomato paste. But I decided to throw some canned plum tomatoes in the food processor, since it was out anyway. I added about 1 cup of the resulting puree to the pan and mixed well. The result didn't scream applesauce, but it was a festive red and green. And it was thick.

Then I strained the cooking water off the beans, combined them with the puree, add added enough veg stock to cover all of it, and returned it to a simmer.

My black beans must have been extra fresh, because after a half hour of cooking by themselves while I did the other stuff, they were already tender enough to eat. But I understood that this was supposed to be a long cooking recipe, that long simmering would allow the combined flavors to marry, so I let them cook on for about 30 or 35 minutes more, adding stock and stirring to make sure they didn't burn. But I was starving and Erik was nosing around, so that was all the time they got. Still, it was gooooood. But there's more instructions to come--salt and pepper make an appearance, as does sour cream....

This is usually where I throw a jalapeno or bell pepper on the fire and roast them for later.

• Oh yes--I scorched whole jalapenos in a cast iron pan while I cooked down the onions and stuff.

When the beans are cooked through, season with salt, pepper and cumin. Add your chopped up roasted peppers and serve over rice with a dollop of sour cream and call it Sofrito! Unless you're serving it to a Puerto Rican, in which case don't call it anything, and you didn't get the recipe from me!

• Sorry John. Now the whole internet knows you've taken liberties with Puerto Rican cuisine. Good thing you live in some undisclosed woodland location!

So yes, toward the end I added plenty of salt and pepper and cumin, and for thrills another splash of white wine. I was cooking black beans, and I think they can taste kind of dull without the help of some acid. But other beans might not want all this wine.

I usually use red or pintos. For a twist, use chickpeas and add some diced potatoes and turmeric for a more middle eastern taste.

Hoorah!

• Hoorah is right. These are the kind of beans I love. Savory. Luscious with sour cream or yogurt. And they really weren't hard to make at all. The long cooking of the onion, garlic and herbs at the beginning gives it a deep flavor underpinning that just doesn't happen when you just sort of throw onions, beans and spices together and hope for the best. There's a lesson to be learned there.

I only wish I'd made two or three times as much. 2 cups of soaked beans makes about enough to feed two hungry people. I wish I had leftovers, because I suspect it would have been better the next day.

A Hairy Cucumber: Mezzo Lungo di Polignano

There's a crass joke or limerick to be made here but I'll leave that up to you, our dear readers. I'll just say that this cucumber, an Italian heirloom called Mezzo Lungo di Polignano, has done well for us this summer. No powdery mildew and it's tasty. I got the seeds from Craig Ruggless at www.gardenedibles.com. I wrote Craig to ask him about it and he replied,

"This is one of my favorites. They are also very good when left on the vine to get larger. Be sure to peel and remove the seeds. They make a great "boat" for salad fillings Like tuna or salmon with lemon and capers in maybe a mayo or yogurt dressing."

The salad boat idea, in our case with tomatoes and a yogurt dressing, made for one of my favorite meals this summer. As for the hairy skin--biodiversity in action--and there something to be said for variety and aesthetics even though that crazy skin never ends up on the dining room table.