Category: Farm

Last night, as I cooked my dinner, a certain satisfaction rolled over me that only comes around this time of year when the fields at the farm and my own garden are exploding with goodies. I knew where most everything came from.

With the exception of the oils and some of the spices, I went down the list of my ingredients and I could identify the origin of each one. The menu: Asian inspired stir fry with a grilled pork chop.

My list began with the grilled bone-in pork chop- bought from a local berkshire hog farmer. Yum. The stir fry started with a perfectly round sweet white onion that resembled an eye ball and the hollow green onion tops its optic nerve- just pulled from my garden that morning and so fresh I could barely see through the sulfuric-acid-inspired tears as I chopped it. Garlic, snatched from my stash, drying in my garage. Long strips of julienned vibrant orange and red carrots and quarter-inch-thick wheels of dark and light green striped zucchini both from the farm followed by a swollen yellow summer squash from my garden. I threw in some dried Thai chili pepper flakes from last year’s bounty and basil from my herb patch. Honey to sweeten the mix was harvested from my boyfriend’s hive last year. Even the salt, though coming from the other side of the world and no where near local, came from a friend’s trip to Indonesia- colorful tiny straw baskets filled with about two tablespoons of salt. The black pepper, soy sauce and peanut oil were mysteries, but all in all, most things were grown within a 10 mile radius.

While working on the farm, I can concocted the next meal. I steal expectant glances at the green tomatoes, just starting to blush red and I anticipate the sauces and salsas in my future.

This Saturday, before heading to the Boulder Farmer’s Market, I ventured out to Teller farm, one of our two growing locations. At Teller, there is a spectacular back drop of Long’s Peak and the Front Range with a foreground of even rows of crops like cucumbers, zucchini, and melons. The vines are still subdued for the time being, behaving in their straight rows, but will soon spill over their neat edges and resemble a thicket of Kudzu. One must be careful not to trample the vines. If one is stepped on, it makes an unmistakable squish-popping sound.

I came here with one intent and one intent only— squash blossoms, vibrant orange squash flowers. These fragile blossoms are a delicacy with a succulent texture and subtle taste reminiscent of summer squash.

When harvesting these beautiful specimens, more often than not there is a buzzing surprise inside. This Saturday, almost every flower I gently twisted from the plant contained a jubilant honey bee. When I looked inside, I felt as if I was intruding and interrupting a private moment between the bee and the flower. Each bee was powered with an orange pollen as bright as the blossom itself. When a bee was present, I had to gently shake her out. Sometimes she would simply fly away and carry onto the next blossom, sometimes she would almost stumble out as if intoxicated and fall to the ground before coming to her senses and flying away.

The act of picking the blossoms inspired a simple joy for me — alone in this quiet field, basically picking flowers like a kid skipping through a field and witnessing an act of ecological importance. This quiet moment, however, had to come to an end as the time for market quickly approached. I gently loaded my bounty in the box truck and headed towards Boulder, my arms slightly itching from the spines on the squash leaves.

This Friday was my first time this season picking basil. Our target weight this Friday was 15 pounds for market and 4 pounds for restaurants.

We have three beds of basil with four different types. Each bed is covered with a white slightly transparent cloth we call row cover. This cover helps protect the plants from the elements and from an creepy crawlies that are wanting to make a quick snack from the crop. The row cover is held down with sand bags. Along with the basil, many of our crops have row cover protecting them, so the fields sometimes resemble more of a white sea than the green fields one might envision. When the wind blows hard, this sea swells with remarkably uniform sine waves, which is quite mesmerizing.

We start by uncovering the beds, which releases the sweet and savory smell of basil.  I try to work with both hands, pinching. Sometimes I work with my right hand and collect a bunch in my left and then dump the contents into a small gallon bucket. One bucket weighs, to my best estimate, about two pounds when completely full.

These three beds will continue to grow and will soon resemble more of a hedge of basil than anything- close to waist height. By then, we barely have to bend over at the waist to pick.

By the time we were through with harvesting, everyone’s thumb nails were blackened from the juices of the stems. On to the next crop on the harvest list. Sugar snap peas….

One thing that is important on the farm is transportation – in the form of our farm trucks. From depositing coolers in the proper fields for the next day’s harvest to delivering restaurant orders to dumping compost in the compost pile at the end of the harvest day, these vehicles are crucial to maintaining working order on and off the farm. The big white beast you see at the CSA pickups is our market truck. This truck, an old ’83 GMC, weighing in at over 23,000 pounds and about 25 feet long, can hold close to 75 of the large white coolers and is responsible for carrying the contents of our CSA shares to our pickups 3 days a week and all the produce to the market on Saturdays. I, being a vintage one year older, but of a much smaller stature, am responsible for driving her to and from the pickups with all the freshly harvested veggies.

Learning to drive such a large old vehicle was a daunting task, but I have grown to like the tri-weekly event. Before each outing, I go through a check list. First, check the headlights and turn signals, among a few other items, to assure all are in working order. Check the oil and fuel level and fill if needed.

Though old and sometimes temperamental, there is a finesse in driving this large truck. Getting her to start may require pulling out the choke, give her two pumps from the gas pedal, but not much more or risk flooding the engine (which I am guilty of on occasion). From inside the cab, when the truck turns over, I think it sounds much larger and meaner than from the outside. As I drive, I am aware of every sound, especially if there is a new one, and I constantly check my periphery in the mirrors. When I shift, I listen to the engine and watch the RPMs to be sure I don’t shift too late and push the engine too hard. This year, with a new clutch, shifting is much easier and doesn’t require me putting my whole body weight behind my foot.

There is always a little bit of relief when I pull into the pickup sites. The target time to arrive is around 3pm, which gives us about an hour to unload the contents of the truck. Set up of the tents and tables. Weigh the greens, like lettuce, arugula and sorrel and get ready for the 4pm pick up time. We’ll see you this week!