growing curious

the pantry challenge 2012

Hello, my name is Cathy, and my pantry is out of control.  Here is how it looks today:

I'm looking forward to January, February and March when I challenge myself to shop for groceries as infrequently possible and to be creative in using up the supplies in my pantry and freezer.  I won't buy rice, for instance.  When I run out of rice, I'll use the rye berries instead.  I won't buy oat flakes but will take the time to soak the steel-cut oats the night before so that they cook quickly in the morning.  When I walk by the mountain of broccoli at the grocery store, I will think of ways to use the frozen kale from the freezer instead.

The goals are to:

• Eat more simple, whole foods.
• Challenge myself to cook with pantry staples (and make them taste good).
• Clear out the pantry and not waste food (allowing myself to finish the older beans before I buy fresher ones).
• Save money!!!
• Drastically reduce trips to the store and increase inner peace.
• Remind myself again about what is enough.
• Feel refreshed and energized by the simplified diet and the simplified pantry.
• Discover what feels essential to our health and well-being (see below about lemons and ginger)  and learn to budget more efficiently to bring those necessary items into our home during winter.

This challenge is an idea I learned about on the forums at CottageSmallholder.com, a favorite blog.  This will be my third winter challenging myself in this way, and I caught myself already playing along today.  I wondered if I should stock up on brown rice because I saw a sale, and then I remembered that soon I will be working to empty my pantry and freezer, and it makes no sense to stock up beforehand.

Anyone want to join me?  I have started a group on Facebook in case you'd like to join to share strategies, recipes, and frugal brilliance.  

My strategy this year:

E drinks a lot of milk, but I may go to the grocery to pick up two gallons of milk at one time instead of going to the grocery twice.  D and E eat meat, but we'll be using more of the meat that we've saved in the freezer instead. I will buy organic lemons and fresh ginger for their bright tastes and healing properties because -- during the last two years of this challenge -- I realized how essential these two ingredients are to my family's health, and they don't grow easily here in Oregon.  We may eat a lot of pesto made from whatever greens -- wild, volunteer, or winter-hardy -- we can find in the garden.  We'll buy apples, but I may just buy a case of a good-storing variety and keep it in the chilly garage.

I'm including my spice cabinet in the challenge this year because it's time for most everything in there to be renewed.  All those beans and grains will appreciate some new spice combinations, too.

 

hope

This is a batch of salsa I made from the tomatoes, peppers, garlic, and onions we grew. These harvest season projects always cause me to take stock and plan for next year.

I was up until 3am last night making giardiniera to share with customers at the Market.  I don't like staying up that late.  I'm toast today and am not sure how I'll cook dinner and help homework happen and all.

This year has been a whirlwind at the Market.  I'm grateful to be there.  My customers are loyal.  I feel loyal to them and often create recipes to suit their preferences.  I love their response to my sauerkraut and pickles.  I'm excited about developing new recipes for next year and getting a better head start on production before the Market begins next May.  I just had no idea what the demand would be like this year, and I feel like I've been scrambling to catch up since March, when I was invited to join the Market.

It's a wonder that I've been able to keep up with the laundry here.  Everything else is in disarray.  The house and garden have never been neglected like this.

Logically, I understand that creating a new business is bound to be consuming.  We started the farm in January 2010, and we started the pickling business this year.  To have come this far -- a successful year at the Market, loyal customers, and growing so much of the produce needed for the pickles ourselves (despite neglecting the garden) -- is amazing.  I will pat myself on the back, and I am eternally grateful for D and E's encouragement, help and patience.

I spent a wonderful twenty minutes in the garden yesterday morning, and it made me realize that I'm not going to be able to continue on with this business unless I'm able to streamline things so that I get time out in the garden.  I need it for nourishment and inspiration.

 

first market day

Yesterday was not as life-changing as marrying D or birthing E, but -- after those two important days -- it was hands-down the third most intense day of my life. 

After years of study, work, experimentation, licensing, and a trial-run last year of selling my pickled products and fresh vegetables/herbs in a limited way from our home/small farm, I (Curious Farm) got to "come out" into the sunlight yesterday and share my passion with the whole wide world  -- or at least the part of the whole wide world that came to the Beaverton Farmers Market on opening day.

It was a great day.  It was scary.  It was hard.  It was uplifting.  I felt affirmed.  Folks were happy about what we're offering.  They seem ready for these kinds of products and interested in exploring them.

D was there with me today, and I was very glad for that.  He watched our system while I interacted with customers, and we learned a ton today.  We will streamline a lot of our process by next week and even more in coming weeks.  If you visited the Curious Farm booth today, thank you!  Thank you mostly for your patience and warmth while we work through a few kinks in our system.

I loved being there.  My neighbor vendors are great, and I look forward to getting to know them. I felt excited to be surrounded by so many people who are passionate about fresh vegetables, healthy food, and pickles.  It was very affirming for me to be able to talk to many, many pickle lovers.  Curious Farm is a business, but it's a business driven in part by my own particular passions, and I was ready today -- achingly ready -- to connect with others who share those passions.

And if all this exposure wasn't enough for a shy lady who has worked freelance (sometimes never meeting her clients who live thousands of miles away) or just with plants for many years, two articles about Curious Farm were published on Saturday:

--The Oregonian (Cedar Mill's Curious Farm debuts at Beaverton Farmers Market with pickles, herbs and vegetables, by Emily Smith)

--The Cedar Mill News (Curious Farm, by Virginia Bruce)

I am too tired and sore from yesterday to sleep, but I am happy and grateful.  Thank you to everyone who has has been encouraging or constructively cautious about this venture.  Today was quite a milestone, and now I will get to work!

 

menu posted!

Opening day of the Beaverton Farmers Market is this Saturday, May 7th.  I just posted the menu of what we'll offer this week on the curious farm website.  Hope to see some of you on Saturday!

bittersweet update

Maybe you would believe how busy I've been?  It's been just a month since I found out that Curious Farm was accepted into the Beaverton Farmers Market, and one month from today I will have survived my first Saturday there.

Overall, we're ahead of the schedule I mapped out a couple of weeks ago.  Engineer D has been a huge help -- solving all sorts of spatial, storage (at different temperatures), fermenting, business and logistical problems.  There is no way I could do this without him.  And it's not like he doesn't have a hundred other things to do that are important, too.

I was doing pretty okay keeping my nose to the grindstone about it all until I looked online and found out my booth space at the Market.  When I was able to visualize where I'll be, it all became much too real.  As I've said a few times, I wish I had three months to prepare instead of two.

We've been figuring out the booth, getting tables and a canopy, finding eco-friendly containers that won't leak, making signage and other collateral, remodeling our house, figuring out new ways to ferment vegetables in larger quantities, marketing the booth and talking to media folks, mapping out production schedules, building relationships with other farms that can grow vegetables for us, product testing, connecting with new customers, integrating new hens into our flock, and planting up our garden.

I already have begun producing sauerkraut for the Market because it takes two months to ferment.  The pickle lab is working very well, by the way.  Right now more than a hundred pounds   (ahem...  all shredded by hand...  have you ever heard of "cabbage elbow?") of vegetables are fermenting in the pickle lab.  I'm excited by how these long ferments are turning out, and I can't wait until a week or so from now when I can begin working on some spicier products that take less time to ferment.

I've been trying to get nonsense and details done so that I can feel more relaxed as I make the products.  That was my goal with the schedule I hammered out two or three weeks ago, and it seems to be working well.  We've accomplished *so* much, and -- as I turn more to production -- I feel more centered because I know how the product will stay safe and vital all the way from sourcing it from our farm and other farms to handing it to our customers.

But it's been hard, too.  I haven't slept very much.  Neither has D, and that's way worse for everyone.

For me, though, the hardest thing I've had to do in this process is what I did today:  clean out the pickle fridge.  This is where we put most of the jars of pickles that I made last year, organized carefully by batches.  I don't know... it's complicated...  The refrigerator of jars represents failure on some levels.  I didn't sell those pickles last year. 

The refrigerator of pickles represents opportunity, too, because I identified the problem with my business down to the *jar* and found another way to sell my pickles.  I'm proud of that.  It's the right way for curious farm.

However, one of the reasons I lost confidence in selling my pickles in refrigerated glass jars is that twice I found jars with issues.  Other jars in the same batches were fine so I couldn't pin the problems on anything specific, but it made me really worried.  And I knew that the longer I held the pickles locked up in the jars, more textural problems might surface.

Last week I sold my last jar, from a dependable batch.

Today I cleared out the fridge of all jars, from all batches.  I opened up every single jar of pickles, filtered and saved the brine, and then threw away the pickles.

But I tasted a bit of pickle from every jar.  6 - 4 months later, they are amazing pickles.  Only two pickles in all of the jars were structurally unsound, and I understand that now as a problem in the cucumber's development on the vine.

I'm thrilled that my pickles could handle being locked up in glass jars for six months and still taste great.

I'm thrilled that I figured out that I hate having pickles locked up in glass jars so much that I wanted to figure out another way to sell them.

I'm thrilled that my "other way to sell them" turned into this.

But I just put 70 pounds of still-fantastic pickles (all homegrown) in the garbage because it's time to get ready for what's to come.

Bring it on, Universe! 

--cathy, covered in sour-cucumber-fermenty-spicy-summery wonder right now, dreaming about what's to come.

 

 

 

 

 

curious farm pickle lab

Above is the before photo from Friday.

Below is the after photo from today.

The Curious Farm Pickle Lab is now in operation.

yay!

I have been holding my breath since the beginning of January.  Ahhh...  finally exhaling...

I found out this weekend that Curious Farm will be at the Beaverton Farmers Market this year.  This is the largest all-agricultural market in the state, and it receives 15,000 - 20,000 visitors every week -- from May through October.

At my booth I will sell old-fashioned brined pickles (in season only), live sauerkrauts (yes, plural...), sauerruben, seasonal kimchi, beet kvass, and an ever-changing assortment of vinegar-brined pickles like rosemary green beans, delicate Japanese pickled turnips, pickled snow peas, giardiniera, juniper-infused pickled onions, Indian-spiced carrots.  I also will bring a limited array of just-picked specialty vegetables and herbs from our farm.

What makes my booth unusual is that I'll be selling the pickled items by the pound/pint/quart so that people feel freedom to experiment.  Many people have never tasted real, live-cultured sauerkraut, for instance, and might hestitate to buy a 32 oz jar of it.  Also, many people fear they won't like kimchi but come to crave it after trying it. 

My offerings will change weekly -- guided by the seasons and what's fresh right now from my farm and other local farms.  I'll grow as much of the produce I use in the pickles as possible, and I'll source additional ingredients from other smart organic, sustainably-minded farmers in the area.

I am a pickle anthropologist and evangelist.  I want the Curious Farm booth to be a resource for people in the area to learn about pickling techniques from all over the world.  I also want to provide probiotic-rich, health-giving, live-cultured pickles to the community because the real stuff is hard to find.  

I'm excited.  I'm overwhelmed.  I can't wait!  I'm nervous.  I hope people like my pickles.

 

 

nuka pickles #2

 
It's educational -- and finally revelatory -- to coax a nuka pickle pot into an environment capable of producing good pickles.

Finally, this week I tasted a little bit of the complex, nuanced flavor profile suggested by writers who talk about nuka pickles.  Sandor Katz writes about this in Wild Fermentation, and I'm still using Elizabeth Andoh's advice with my nuka pickles.

D, E and I joke about how this nuka pot is like a little compost pile.  But the joke is pretty real.  E talks about me burying vegetables in the pickle "dirt."  And that's just how it is -- except the dirt is cultured rice bran.

In the early stages, one needs to begin feeding the nuka pot fresh vegetables, and Andoh suggests feeding it vegetable scraps wrapped in cheesecloth... 

 
...and then bury them in the bran overnight.

These scraps tasted okay to me.  Very mild.  I could taste the beginning of funk so I knew something was happening in the cultured bran.

Now, two weeks later, the pot is producing rustic pickles of daikon root, carrot, and brassica leaf (broccoli, kale and mustard green leaves all pickle nicely with this method) . They're earthy and surprising.  This week, I've liked them all, and they're getting stronger so I will have to switch this week to do as Andoh suggests:  put the pickles in after breakfast and dig them out for dinner.

 

After you pull them out of the nuka pot, you brush them off and then rinse them off before preparing them for your meal.

 

nuka pickles, kvass

 
I've been enjoying Elizabeth Andoh's new book Kansha:  Celebrating Japan's Vegan and Vegetarian Traditions.  She has a warm, encouraging voice, and she explains process and ingredients in eye-opening ways.  Although I've been cooking Japanese food for twenty years and am familiar with some unusual ingredients, I've had several "aha!" moments while buried in this wonderful book.

I got the book specifically for Andoh's discussion of Japanese pickles -- nuka pickles in particular.  Nuka is powdered rice bran.  To make nuka pickles, you season and culture the bran so that it becomes an intense pickling environment.  Vegetables (whole and sliced) are placed in the nuka, and often they're ready in just a day.  The nuka pot needs to be tended daily or "fed" new vegetables in order to keep its culture going.

Here's a great article Andoh wrote about maintaining a pickle pot -- including finding "sitters" for it when she travels.

So today I set out to begin my own nuka pot.  Earlier this week I found Nuka at Anzen.  This is what it looks like:

I wish I had taken a picture while the nuka roasted in the big iron skillet.  It smelled mysteriously sweet like cookies from heaven or something.   I mixed it with sake and other seasonings, and now it will begin to culture for a couple of days before I begin "feeding" it with vegetable scraps first, then cucumbers and daikon, and then other vegetables.

I covered it up, though, to prevent the light from getting to it.

It's fun to begin adventures like this.  I remember when I first learned to make sauerkraut and what worlds that opened up for me.

While I was off hunting for nuka ingredients, I also went to Fubonn Market, where I found this Chinese Pickle Jar.  If you're familiar with Harsch Crocks and their water seal, you'll see that these Chinese jars also have a water seal. 

 
This one was just $15 -- compared to the $100+ price for a Harsch crock. (That's the lid on the right.  It fits nicely on the rim of the vessel.)  I had hoped to use this Chinese jar for the nuka, but I realized that, although I can fit my hand easily through the top, the shape of it wouldn't allow me to work quickly to bury the vegetable pieces and retrieve the finished pickles on a daily basis.  I'll use it for kvass or something quick like kimchi.

Speaking of kvass...  I made side-by-side batches using whey and pickle juice (fermented) and just decanted and tasted them this morning.  Both are perfectly wonderful -- with the same richness, sweetness and intensity.  The only difference I could tell this morning is that the batch made with whey was slightly fizzier.  Perhaps they will reveal other flavor differences after they're refrigerated for a day or so.  In any case, I was thrilled that the pickle juice version turned out so well because I often find it a drag to strain yogurt yet always have pickle juice on hand, as you know.
 

certifying the kitchen #7

Just in case you're reading this because you hope to certify your own kitchen, I'd like to share some advice:  Be really careful when you buy your legal-for-trade scale.

I bought a scale (online) that was too sensitive for my needs because I was overwhelmed by the options available.  However, sensitive scales need to be recalibrated more frequently.    Having a licensed scale repair shop recalibrate your scale costs money.

My scale inspector (if you certify your kitchen in Oregon, you too will have a scale inspector) came by in late October to test my scale.  I had only used it a few times, but he found that it was weighing in error at 100th of an ounce so he couldn't pass me.  Helpfully, he told me if my scale were less sensitive, he would have been able to pass me.

So I had to take the scale down to a very nice certified scale repair shop, and I only had a limited time to do this or else I would have to pay a fine to the Department of Agriculture.  (In order to produce legal food, it must be weighed legally, too.)

The repair bill was almost half of what I paid for the scale.  I thought about what might happen as I jostled it in and out of the car, and I just felt ill.  I can't afford to pay $100 every time someone sneezes within 30 yards of the scale.  So I asked the very nice scale people if they would accept my scale in trade for a less sensitive one. 

They agreed.  And they handled the paperwork with the Department of Agriculture.

If you ever need help choosing a scale, buying a scale or repairing a scale, visit A-1 Scale in NW Portland.  Very nice people. 

 

gloomy day

 
The contrast in these photos has been tweaked so that you can see the gloom I worked in this afternoon.  It was hazy, misty, and eerily dark out in the garden, and the photos I took were too dark to include here as they were.

Do you ever procrastinate on a chore that you know will make you feel better if you do it?  I've been avoiding the garden recently.  I just didn't want to take down the bean bridge and towers.  I wasn't ready to let go of this intense season.

But clear away and take down I did today.  I even broadforked a bed and will plant red clover there tomorrow.  I ripped out spent broccoli and lots of weeds, uncovered some onions, raked leaves, noticed the garlic pushing up already.

Here is one patch of nasturtiums that I didn't have the heart to tear down:

I apologize for the dark photo, but this patch of nasturtiums climbs taller than me and is still vibrant.  I've never had nasturtiums last this long.  They always sacrifice themselves to the aphids by August. 

D's mother took D and E to Disneyland so they've been gone for a few days.  I was moderately productive while they were gone with cleaning, organizing, and gardening.   I seeded the last of the chili peppers on Friday night and severely burned my hands from the capsaicin.  Two days later, they still hurt.  I barely slept on Friday night from the throbbing pain, and then I got a rare migraine on Saturday morning that I think must have been from how wigged out my nerves were from the pepper burns.

But here are the beautiful chili peppers before processing:

 

And here they are all now as they ferment into a special chili sauce that Curious Farm will have available soon.

 

the garden keeps giving...

 
Mother Earth, I am blessed.  Here it is almost November and our vines have delivered another 18 pounds of perfect pickling cucumbers.  This batch of pickles may be the last for the year, and then I will decide if I want to import from California to make batches of pickles during the next couple of months.

Here is a photo of our vines, taken today during a break in the storm:

You can see that the vines still look pretty lively for this late in the season.  This is one of our new beds that gets southern exposure and heat radiated from the house on the north side.  It's such a sweet, productive spot, and we'll be planting winter crops in these beds soon, too.

And that's probably why the hens have gathered nearby here this afternoon to soak up the sheltered sun.  There's been no sign of molting yet, and they're still laying well. (especially since we discovered that they were laying eggs in the tomato bed and so have changed their ranging schedule to encourage use of the nest boxes.  ahem.) 

I am just beginning to recover from my illness.  Today I have done more than any day since 10/8.   I had to force myself out to pick the cucumbers, and I'm taking a break now before I put them into crocks because I'm tired.

But it was great to be out in the garden.  I'm just stunned by all that's still growing out there.  I haven't planted the garlic yet (hopefully will do that this week when E is in school), but there are carrots, beans, pretty summer squashes, chili peppers, eggplants, parsley, winter squashes, onions, leeks, chard and broccoli.  All of this is from plantings we did in the spring and early summer.  We haven't had "farm hours" here at Curious Farm in a month or so, but I'll send email to a couple of customers to let them know about crops I know they enjoy.

Now I just need to get my energy back so that I can plant the garlic and winter crops.  We have never had such bounty here, and I can't wait to see what we're able to grow next year.

 

certifying the kitchen #6

Yes, Curious Farm Pickles have been legal for a couple of weeks.

They also won first place at Grand Central Bakery's Urban Farming Expo a couple of weeks ago.

But I have been holding my breath all of this time because I knew that I needed to process the pickles while being observed by the kitchen inspector.  That happened this morning, and I passed with flying colors.  She found no violations.  She said I was very organized and that she thinks I'll be very successful.

Relief!

Next steps:  On Friday I will meet with the Food Innovation Center for a consultation.  After working on part of my business plan and doing a lot of market research over the last week, I feel very ready for this meeting.  I have good product to share, and I'll even bring along some fruit spreads in case there is time to discuss that part of the business, too.  I think I have a realistic understanding of my strengths and weaknesses -- what I know and what I don't know -- so that we can make the consultation productive.

I've come a long way.  My first jar of fermented pickles was made just over a year ago (I've been making sauerkraut longer).  Now I'm a professional.

(Oh! Other good news:  the inspector gave me permission to expand my product line to include kraut, kimchi, and other fermented products.)

toot toot!

O frabjous day!

Legal pickles...  yip, yip...  legal and safe and tested and jarred and labeled pickles just before heading to the Curious Farm fridge.  (...but you heard it here first because you are you, and this is my special place for saying yippie! and ow! and wow!  today is a yay day!)

 

what makes you happy?

 

So, ummm...  it kinda makes me happy to have this biochemical experiment fermenting on my kitchen counter.  It makes me happy that my engineer husband -- a former brewer but a pickle-phobe -- has taken interest in the scientific parts of this venture because I need his help.

this pickle is legal

This pickle is crunchy, sour and spicy.  It leaves a faint tingle on the lips for a good five minutes or more after biting into it.

This pickle also is legal.  All that angst about certifying the kitchen was to share this fresh, brined goodness with you.  I'll be selling Curious Farm pickles -- spicy, classic, and a few surprises -- this fall.    

certifying the kitchen #5

mission accomplished, as of an hour ago.

certifying the kitchen #4

The kitchen inspector came over yesterday for a consultation.  She was very nice, full of good information, and not "threatening" on any level.

Yesterday's visit was a "consultation," and I came away from the interaction feeling okay about the household set-up.  We have separated home and business food processing in a way that didn't ring any alarm bells for the inspector.  Good.

However, it seems as though my preserving interests head into dangerous territory.  Even the not-too-sweet-kinda-savory jams I like to do are considered "acidified foods."  They require different approvals and certification.

The pickles I make also are considered "acidified foods."  I call them "live culture" foods, and I have no problem telling everyone who wants to buy them that they need to be refrigerated.  It's possible for me to get a domestic license to produce these pickles as I had intended.  It's just that it sounds like the jams I like to make also would need to be refrigerated -- even though they have been properly heat-processed and have plenty of sugar in them.  They just don't have enough sugar in them.

I feel bummed.  I feel isolated.  I would not need to spend another $600 in equipment if I were part of a community of food developers.  I don't know how one becomes a part of such a community when one has a young child.  But let me say this outloud yet again:  I would like to *share* the costs of an NTEP scale, a good pH meter, a wide-range Brix meter, and the costs of buying jars in bulk (because the shipping charges are outrageous). 

I just feel really bummed tonight. Why is it so hard to bring interesting food to market? 

 

certifying the kitchen #3

As I appended to my last post, the kitchen inspector wasn't able to visit earlier in August.  She is scheduled to come here on Tuesday, the morning after I teach a fermentation class.

I made lasting progress for the inspector's last scheduled visit.  There is some extra cleaning that needs to be done, that *always* needs to be done when someone comes over, but I'm not worried. 

However, since the last big go-around of household/pantry/closet re-organization, I realize that I don't have a perfect solution to separate business and household stuff through their entire life-cycles, and I think that this will be what the inspector will try to teach me about next week.

I have separated out ingredients and equipment, but I have four places where I store business equipment.  Maybe this isn't okay.

Also, since I'm not in production mode right now, I don't know where I'll store bigger amounts of finished product.  Even if I'm not ready to produce large quantities, I think the inspector might want to know where I think I'll be storing product before it goes elsewhere.

So this morning -- in between looking for a lost chicken -- I re-arranged the long-term pantry so that there's more enclosed, separate space to hold finished preserves.

It's really weird to think about how your family stores things, from an outsider's perspective.  I keep realizing that there are huge fields of things I haven't even considered yet.  I am being as anal as I can possibly be, and then there's another entirely obvious thing that I hadn't considered before...  ho hum...

certifying the kitchen #2

Why am I showing you the cabinet under my kitchen sink?  Because the kitchen inspector is coming tomorrow, and she's going to look here, too.

Another rule for domestic kitchen licensing is that cleaning supplies need to be removed.  Right now, the cabinet holds just the garbage and a fire extinguisher.  I'll let you know if this turns out to be kosher.

I am very tired. 

Even though it has been hard work to re-organize the kitchen and other storage areas in the house, it hasn't been difficult.  I actually enjoyed separating my professional supplies (including spices and other ingredients) from household supplies.  Sometimes it has seemed as though I've been working toward this kitchen certification all along.  Everything has its own place now, and it all fits just fine.

Tomorrow the inspector is just coming to give me a consultation.  Wanting to use her time in the best way and to challenge myself, I've tried to follow the regulations as fully as I understand them.  We'll have a more productive conversation this way.

I'm not nervous.  I feel tired and a bit wound up, but not nervous.  As I told D and my old friend P, there's an aspect of this process that soothes my anxiety.  It has given me a way to use my native hypervigilance in a more concrete and productive way.  I'm glad for this opportunity to move forward professionally.  I relish (fun pun!) the chance to make and sell my preserves soon.

If you ever have wanted to eat off a kitchen floor, come to my house tomorrow at 9am.

---

sadly, the inspection has been posponed because of an emergency in the inspector's family.  in a couple of weeks we'll try this again...

---

beet relish

I've done kraut, kvass, kimchi, but I've never done a fermented beet relish until now.  Wow!  It turned out. 

Besides the beets and carrots (both from the garden!), I decided to take a break from my usual spicy-hot additions and used caraway, dill, black pepper, and a little ginger this time.   It tastes rooty, pleasantly sour, and very alive.  I want to put it on a cheese sandwich on rye bread. Instead, I ate some of it plain for breakfast.

taking stock

Fiona over at the Cottage Smallholder posted a lovely reflection on her last year of healing.  She's had to reorganize her life entirely, do more with less, and figure out new ways to support herself.  I hope you'll visit her blog and get to know her.

I draw great strength from Fiona's journey because -- even though our circumstances are different and we live half a world apart -- our priorities and solutions are similar.  I especially appreciate that she can see that she's living a deeper, more satisfying life now that everything has been pared down to essentials.

That is true for me, also.  I really love getting to know my husband now that he's free of the evil empire.  I'll gladly face storms of financial, geographic, and professional uncertainty to watch him settle into himself.  I appreciate having a clearer idea of who our real friends are.  I'm grateful that we're getting so grounded that we're literally dirty from our work on the Farm.

The Farm...

I've been in a funk about the farm.  I work so hard out there but can't see appreciate our progress so this weekend, much like Fiona, I've been trying to acknowledge the deeper progress we've made in these last six months:

• We came up with the plan for the farm in January.
• We built the farm's website in January.
• We re-organized our entire garden into mounded, raised beds.
• We ordered seeds and planned crops differently than we ever have before.
• David designed and built the coop.
• We got the chickens and learned to care for them.
• Our garden grew.
• We dealt with the record-breaking cold and wet spring.
• I've kept up with the weeding.
• We sold a few vegetables. (thank you!)
• Pickling classes are coming up later this summer.  (There's room for you, too!  Contact me.) 
• First eggs are due any day now, and we have customers waiting for them already. 
• We're meeting a lot of wonderful neighbors.
• I'm figuring out how to license the kitchen so that I can make and sell preserves and pickles legally.
• I am making unusual pickles and preserves and learning a lot in that realm.
• We are feeding ourselves from the garden. (At the grocery store, I skip the produce section 90% of the time -- mostly just buy mushrooms or a few lemons sometimes.)

That is an awful lot in six months. 

I know from my experience with this garden over this last few years that we'll see rewards two- or three-fold next year.  We won't have to truck in compost anymore.  The beds are organized well enough now that rotation will be easier and weeding reduced.  I've learned so much about succession planting and yields this year that next year I'll have a better idea of how to market crops in advance.

I need to be patient.  A year from now, we'll face different challenges, but it will feel easier (hopefully) to sell what we grow.

Not small potatoes for six months of hard work.  Even I can see that.

certifying the kitchen #1

When I am not picking snow peas (it's the middle of July!), pickling them (good results!), watering, weeding, helping bean vines find their twine supports (have you ever found the patience to coax a vine toward a support?  it's my meditation practice), or feeling overwhelmed and hopeless, I am cleaning my kitchen, garage, closets, and cabinets.

I am doing this because I want to get our home kitchen certified so that I can produce jams and pickles here and sell them legally.

I have been trying to wrap my mind around this for a couple of years, but the requirements are daunting.

The worst requirement for us is that no animal is ever allowed in the same building where the kitchen is.  We are dog people, and that has been a deal-breaker for me as I've tried to approach this goal in the past.  Sadly, though, we had to find another home for our dog earlier this year for unrelated reasons.  For months, I refused to consider the possibility of moving forward with the domestic kitchen licensing because this requirement kills the joy for me completely.  But now that my professional plans have gotten much bigger, it's absolutely clear that this domestic kitchen situation is a temporary one.  I can deal with a pet-free home for a couple of years.  The chickens have their own nice digs outside, and they are lovely companions, too. 

There are other requirements about storing ingredients and supplies separately from family supplies.  For my purposes, this requires a second refrigerator.  We already have that second fridge for the farm, and I'm waiting to hear from the inspector if that new one will suffice for the farm and the preserving.  We'll see.

Also, no medicines can be stored in the certified kitchen.  This makes absolute sense, but it requires considerable juggling around of our closet space here.  You know how when you re-organize one closet, you have to re-organize a few more for things to make sense again?  Well, that's where I am right now...

The house is a mess -- with things willy-nilly -- as I try to achieve new organizational sanity here.  I refuse to do the deep cleaning of the bathrooms and elsewhere that has needed to get done for weeks until this stuff is dealt with.  Do we need it?  Should we save it?  Should we donate it?  I won't vacuum until the pile of stuff is gone from the middle of the room.

Also, I'm going through my kitchen tools, wondering which ones I can give over to the business and which ones I need to keep for family use.  Do I need two of every favorite tool?

I also feel afraid to open my home to the scrutiny I imagine is to come.  There will be scheduled and unscheduled inspections.  Truthfully, I'm less afraid of the unscheduled inspections because once I learn the rules I must follow, I will be dogged about that.  I worry more about the first inspections when I'll be trying so hard to do it all right and then feel slammed when I'm told that I'll need to make a costly adjustment.

But I do feel determined.  My preserves -- jams, relishes, chutneys, and fermented pickles -- are made with care and are good enough to be able to be sold legally.  This is my passion:  I like to grow the vegetables and fruits, and I like to preserve their wonderful energy. 

I debated a long time about whether or not to post about this journey toward a certified domestic kitchen.  It's embarrassing to figure out how to turn your private space into a state-certified production kitchen.  But, you know, I would really appreciate reading about someone else's professional journey in this direction.  It would be great to connect with others who are doing something like this, and I never will unless I share about it.  (Thanks, Sarah Gilbert, for that clear insight.) 

So, hi!  My name is cathy, and I'm trying to get my kitchen licensed! 

preserving my sanity

After a long dry period and my first kimchi disaster, I'm back in the pickling and jamming saddle again.

In fact, there is tremendous goings-on in the preserving realm for me, but most of this will need to be shared later this summer.

In the meantime, I recovered from my kimchi disaster and made the best batch of kimchi I've ever made with my own two hands and heart.  I'm so pleased with it.  It's spicier, but the acid profile is more clean-tasting so -- overall -- it's just fantastic kimchi.   I wish you could taste it.  Kimchi isn't scary.  I don't use fish or sugar in mine.  It only takes a week to ferment, and it's good for you.  Wanna take a class?  Write to me, and I'll let you know when I teach another kimchi class.

Now look at this pretty pickle:  snow peas with onions, radishes and dill.  I won't know if this will turn out for another couple of days, but -- so far -- I'm pleased to see the snow peas retain their bright green color. And it was so much fun to put together with the gorgeous snow peas from the farm. 

(By the way, we have a lot of snow peas and pea tips/sprouts right now.  See what's fresh now at Curious Farm, and if you'd like to stop by, send email or give a call so that I can set some aside for you.)

But tonight I am making some strawberry jam. It's really special.  It's different.  It's grown-up and intense.  I divided a flat of strawberries so that I could try the recipe in two different ways.  The first batch is done and came out better than I had hoped.  I'm so pleased with this new way of making jam (with no added pectin, too) that I could spazz out from relief and joy. 

Now I'm working on the second batch, with the different technique, while I listen to Taj Mahal at the Waterfront Blues Festival on KBOO.  I notice that I often am jamming late at night during the Blues Festival!  Next year I should just plan a preserving project during this yearly festival weekend to take advantage of the good music.

I am proud of myself for persevering with my preserving passion.  Thank you for letting me share my joy.

 

pickle love

Oh man...  I might need to head down to the Bay Area again soon.  Here is an inspiring video about the Cultured Pickle Shop in Berkeley.  Alex Hozven is doing what I want to be doing.  It's amazing.  I'm inspired.

60 pounds of apples down...

Man...  I'm tired.  It's a good thing I'm open to the idea of some peel in my applesauce because my hands, wrists, feet, and hips ache from standing at the sink and peeling all those apples.

60 pounds of apples made 18 quarts of sauce and some undetermined amount of apple butter that is still cooking in the crock pot.  I had one exploded, broken jar during processing (was just processing two jars at the time so it wasn't a huge disaster -- just messy), and that was a first for me.  I'm listening to the last of the jar pings right now -- an affirming sound.

I make great applesauce, btw.  I suppose it has to do with the apples and just cooking them really slow.  I was working with 20 pounds of apples at a time, and each batch took 12 hours on the stove's lowest setting.  I don't put sugar in the sauce -- just apples, spices, and some lemon juice.

Apples make me want to cry in a happy, the-world-is-good sort of way.  Applesauce is medicine and hope in a jar.

Today I have been thinking about the Isle of Mull in Scotland and wishing we were there again.  D and I went on that trip five and a half years ago.  There were so many magical (hate that word, but it's appropriate here) places we visited, but I always feel the strongest pull toward Mull.  I want to go back and eat the cheddar cheese, see the hairy cows, appreciate the changing weather (much like here in Oregon, actually), savor the amazing mushroom soup at the Old Byre Tearoom in Dervaig, and feel the peace that comes from hanging out with the standing stones.

I felt a lot of openness and wonder on that trip.  We didn't have E then.  She was conceived a couple of days later on Skye, which is sort of weird and embarrassing to admit on a blog  (... as if we were doing some weird science experiment in a B & B in the Inner Hebrides...  or perhaps embarrassing because the science experiment happened so infrequently that I know exactly when conception occured...  or even weirder because there was another time when I conceived and felt the special flutter so knew immediately when it happened in Scotland, even though D didn't believe me...).  I mean, it's important to me that I know when and where she was conceived, and I believe the magic in Mull helped open my spirit so that E could come to us. 

I had a moment in the standing stones near Dervaig that was just for me.  D was there, but not really in my way.  He let me be.  I felt fluttery.  The stones made me feel happy.  The stones were so old and craggy, but they were surrounded (almost engulfed in some spots) by gnarled trees that -- in relation to the stones -- were incredibly young.  And there I was feeling so at home in that space, so free in spirit, and so much younger than even the trees (but feeling so old-old-wrinkly-old because I was going to turn 40 in a couple of weeks).

I don't know...  sometimes I think there's magic in a place.

applesauce

This weekend I am making applesauce.  There are 80 pounds of apples in my kitchen -- Jonagolds, Cameos, Fujis, Pink Ladies, and Fortunes. 

Have you ever seen a Fortune apple?  Here is one of them next to a fairly large Pink Lady.  The Fortunes taste rich, actually, and that is an unintended pun.  Fresh, they taste rich, warm and "cooked."  That flavor depth may go away when they're actually cooked down into sauce, but I'm hopeful.

I haven't been writing here very much because... D and E keep getting sick, and then after I help get them well, they get sick again.   Do I get a chance to get sick?  Nooooo...    In fact, I told D that I was going to drink wine tonight while I was peeling apples so that maybe I'd cut my finger off and have to go to the hospital for awhile so that I might be forced to rest.  He said, "Okay!" and then went down to watch Frosty the Snowman with E (after I made them dinner and cleaned up from it).  Yes, I'm irritated...

Today I got some dirty looks and comments at school for the way E continues to cough and I continue to send her to school.  She did stay home.  She stayed home from school two days.  She hasn't had a fever this whole time.  She has a bad-sounding cough and a ton of her usual energy and mental alertness.  I kept her home on the days when she was obviously sick and the days before and after that really sick time.  Should I keep her home all month?  If she's like her father, she'll have this cough the rest of December.  Ho, ho, ho.

So... 25 pounds of apples are on the stove, beginning their journey to sauce (all that will fit in my big soup pot).  I went out in the freezing dark to dump a second pale of peels into the compost pile, came here to say hello (and have a glass of wine), and now I will head back into the kitchen to peel more and load up the crock pot for a round of apple butter.

I made good applesauce last year so I'm hopeful this time around.  I've never made apple butter so we'll see about that.  In any case, I hope it snows a lot tonight and tomorrow because I think I'd like to be trapped at home with applesauce on the stove, you know?

beet kvass

I really like the first batch of beet kvass.  What's most interesting to me is how the flavor keeps developing in the fridge, after its room-temperature fermentation.  My pickles and kimchi retain their flavor, oomph, and cruchiness in the fridge, but the kvass keeps getting better.  I like it more and more each day.

I used one of the Harsch crocks to ferment this batch, but I'm understanding how unnecessary that might have been considering the kvass only ferments on the kitchen counter for 3 - 7 days.  As most people do, I'm sure it's easy to make it in a canning jar and just crack the lid a couple of times to allow gas to escape.

I'm not Sally Fallon .  Here is my recipe:

Cathy's Beet Kvass (made with Harsch crock)

• 3 beets, left unpeeled and cubed (no need to be pretty, but the beets shouldn't be shredded, or they will ferment too quickly and get icky)
• 1/4 cup whey, strained from plain yogurt
• 1/4 teaspoon salt (way, way less than most recipes call for, and it could have been that the Harsch crock allowed me to use so little salt because no air from the outside was able to enter the kvass while it fermented. I don't know if this is true, but I do know that I was happy to have the kvass turn out wonderful with much less salt.)
• 3 thick slices of fresh ginger root
• enough filtered water (to fill the jar or just enough considering the ratio of beets to the size of your container)

For the quantities in this recipe, many people would use a half-gallon canning jar.  Fill the jar with the cubed beets, whey (strain some plain yogurt you like in cheesecloth or a strainer over a bowl, and the whey will collect in the bowl), salt, ginger, and water.

If using Harsch crock, do the above, place the weights on top of the beets, seal the crock properly so that gasses escape on their own.

If using a canning jar, put a lid on it but release the lid a couple of times during fermentation so that gasses escape.

Ferment on the kitchen counter for 3 - 7 days (my first batch went five days).  Strain and refrigerate the liquid.  Drink some every day.  Start your next batch.

best pickled beets

You know how some cookbooks give a recipe you consider worth the price of the whole book?  I feel that way about the recipe for Pickled Beets with Red Wine in Linda Ziedrich's The Joy of Pickling.   It is so good -- earthy, not too sweet, smooth, deep, not harsh.  She calls for red wine vinegar, and it makes a big difference in this recipe.  This recipe for Pickled Beets with Red Wine, published in 2008 in The Washington Post, was adapted from Ziedrich's recipe.  I'm sure star anise would be a great addition.  I adapt Ziedrich's recipe, too.  I use less sugar, more ginger, and allspice instead of cloves.

I made a second batch last night.  Some friends found out about my first batch, and the jars have been leaving my pantry sooner than I expected so I needed to replenish my supply.  Pretty much, I can't imagine using another recipe ever again.  These are the very best pickled beets I've ever tasted.  (And, Stephanie, the jar I gave you earlier in the year was not made from this recipe.  You must try this one.) 

Life has been very beet-y around here. The kvass turned out.  Peeling twelve pounds of beets yesterday for the pickles gave me renewed appreciation for their mineraly-goodness. (and the cracks in my hand are still stained...)  It's Autumn...  good time for beets.
 

busy in the kitchen...

 
Yesterday D poured the concrete for the chicken coop.  Now we have a 10' x 11' slab out there for square dances.  In the spring, we'll build the coop itself and then get our chickens.  This daydream suddenly became more concrete (ahem) with the delivery of the concrete.  I guess we'll be getting chickens then.  Real ones.

While out there, waiting for D to need my help, I picked the rest of the tomatoes so that we can start putting the garden to bed.  I know you can see the tomatoes up above, but look...  there are more green ones...

It's sort of like a bad dream to have all of these green tomatoes again because I haven't properly recovered from last year (chronicled here, here, here, here, and here ).  But I'm a good sport, yes?  And I have done a good job of minimizing the waste of perfectly edible produce from the garden this year so I was game to give it another go.  Green tomatoes are my friends.  No one understands them as deeply as I do...

So I put them all in the Harsch crock, and we'll hope that they turn into the real pickled green tomatoes I remember from New York City.  No vinegar.  No canning.  Real, fermented, crispy green tomatoes.  At least that's the hope.  They look pretty in the crock, don't they?  They're waiting to get splashed with brine.  In a week, they should be ready!

Actually, there are two Harsch crocks that are bubbling away right now.  The left one holds the green tomatoes, and one on the right is making Beet Kvass.  This is my first attempt and the first time I've used whey in my fermenting.  I looked at hundreds of recipes for Beet Kvass, and I was unable to find one that didn't use whey so I figured it must be important.  Beet Kvass is a fermented beet juice made with whey, salt, filtered water.  I put ginger in mine and used much less salt than often suggested.  It is supposed to be very healthy and very satisifying.  I love beets and have a feeling I'll love this.  We'll see in a couple of days.

But there were pretty red tomatoes out in the garden, too...

 
E doesn't eat tomato sauce on noodles so I wondered about making vegetable juice with these.  Then I realized I could make the job quite easy if I used the new strainer from the estate sale.  It worked magic!  How did I live without this tool?  (And, Stephanie, I really wonder if this would have helped make your grape project a lot easier?  Please borrow this anytime!)

The jars of juice look so pretty.  I used the recipe in the Ball Blue Book for Vegetable Juice and used less salt, and I think I could have even used less salt because the celery, onions, and lemon gave the tomatoes a nice twang.

The jar with the white cap is the pulp from the juicing.  It tasted so good that I added some lime juice and hot peppers to it so that I have some salsa to use for the next couple of weeks.  I didn't process this -- just froze some and put the rest in a jar in the fridge.  I'm happy that even this bit of garden bounty didn't get wasted.  It's satsifying to make the effort to turn leftovers into goodness.

So, yesterday:  chicken coop/square dancing platform, picked tomatoes, made beet kvass, maked pickled green tomatoes, made tomato juice and salsa.  Good, eh?

estate sale bonanza

My friend J called me up yesterday evening to see if I'd like to go with her to an estate sale another friend of hers was organizing.   "She says there's a lot of canning equipment in the basement..."

"Ummm...  yeah...  I'll go!"

Nevermind that I usually get into my jams at 7pm.  Nevermind that I haven't driven in the dark in months.  Nevermind that I haven't made a unilateral decision about doing something away from the house or the child (without asking D) in weeks.  I just said, "yeah...  I'll go!"

And we went!  And it was weird to be out in the world at night.  It was weird to drive in the dark.  It was weird to be in real clothes after dark.  It was weird to go on an unexpected adventure.

This is a really great estate sale.  It starts tomorrow (Friday, 10/8) and goes through the weekend.  J and I bought a tiny portion of the huge feast of kitchen and food preservation equipment there.  I also saw a lot of great furniture, reasonably priced (something to note at an estate sale).

I bought some canning jars, ranging from very antique to recent vintage.  I got a very heavy-duty sauce strainer with a wooden pusher.  I needed this last week when I was working on our garden's tomatoes, and I almost bought something like this from an online source. 

I also got two huge stainless steel bowls for mixing cabbage for kimchi and kraut.  I had planned to go down to a restaurant supply store next week because my biggest mixing bowls weren't able to do the job lately so it's wonderful to find these funkily-flat-bottomed bowls.

I was so so so good last night.  I wasn't greedy.  If you live near Portland, the sale starts tomorrow, and there are hundreds more canning jars, two steam canners, pickling crocks, meat grinders, vegetable grinders, a cherry pitter, funky kitchen scales, wonderful kitchen stools, bread and muffin pans.

I bought very, very little because I need to reorganize my kitchen and pantry spaces before I bring more tools into the kitchen.  Great sale.  It's been so long since I've been to a really good sale, and I still feel amped from the sensory overload.  

Go to Tryon Creek State Park after the sale and root yourself again.