Archive for November 23, 2009

There is More to Turkey Than Roasting it for Thanksgiving

I have to confess that I do not have the proper respect for Thanksgiving.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy that food-centric holiday. It’s just that – not having grown with it – I am not enough imbued with its traditions, and I am trying to make it… well… gasp! too… French. You see, many of the French holidays end up being a celebration of food, but in the US, only Thanksgiving – distantly followed by Christmas – really gets the family around the table.

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When I cook the Thanksgiving dinner, I always end up with multiple courses served not all at once but in succession – to stretch the fun of eating and the dinner. That’s a no-no: Thanksgiving is meant to have many many dishes all served at once (except desserts). Thanksgiving means that the table is groaning under the sheer quantity of the dishes. Read more

Postcard From The Field

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Belle Meade Farm - October 2009

On Chicken

The chicken have moved to their winter quarters.

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We’ve taken the wire fence from the summer garden down; moved the electric net fence to enclose the new chicken area; relocated the coop inside the old summer garden, and built a little dome shelter – complete with perches – so the chicken can be outside the coop and dry on wet days – like today.

The idea is to harness “chicken power” in helping to prepare next year summer garden. We’ll give them the run of the area through late April, with the hope that they will eat the bugs, control weeds, aerate the soil and incorporate organic matter – including their droppings – in the top soil (since I am also piling leaves, old straw, and other organic debris in there). Besides providing us with tasty eggs, those girls (and one boy) are playing a big role in the cycle of the garden.

Come April, they’ll be moved to another area that I want them to help clear. We hope to rotate them every 6 months, with the idea that, at all time, one area will be under chicken patrol, one area will be fallow (with cover crop) and one area cultivated.

Meanwhile, this winter, we have work to do moving the stones around to change the perimeter of the summer garden. One can see on the picture low stone “walls” outlining the perimeter of the initial summer garden – about 28 feet square. We saw way too small when we first did it two years ago. Of course, at the time, it looked big, and picking and moving the stones from the to-be-planted area to the perimeter was no small task. Fields grow stones, around here! Prospectives have changed. Funny how that happen. I now have grand plans for extensive plantings of beans, corn & squash for next year, so the summer garden is likely to be 3 to 4 times bigger by the time we are done.

A girl can dream.

The stones will have to be moved.

A Mess of Oysters

I love fresh oysters. When we lived in the city, we used to go to the wharf for Christmas and New Year, get fresh oysters in their shell, mud from the Chesapeake bay still clinging to them. Later that day, Keith would scrub them clean, open them and arrange them on trays of ice. A squeeze of lemon, a little bread with good butter, a glass of champagne, more oysters, and that would New Year Dinner. They were a treat. Still are.

The Chesapeake Bay, the largest estuary in the US, provided ideal conditions for oyster to thrive – at least until the 20th century. Indian populations as well as colonists greatly enjoyed them, or – so we think -  based on the shell middens found in archaeological digs.

When I first encountered shucked oysters sold in a jar, I was shocked. I had no idea they were eaten, let alone sold, not in their shell. Eventually I got accustomed to the idea and have actually used such oyster for creamy stews.

And then at a rural cafe years ago, I saw “fried oysters” on the menu. Another moment of incredulity … promptly followed by an order of fried oysters. mmm… I was not impressed. Wasn’t bad, but wasn’t great either. And that was pretty much it until last year.

That’s when – another shock! – I realized how much people loved oysters around here. A lot. Except not raw. Fried. That was also rather surprising, but I will admit that there are good fried oyster and there are bad fried oysters. I have had both and some so-so (as in my first experience). And I have learned how to make good fried oysters from Danny at the Fire Hall.

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Still Harvesting

Last evening I saw the man in the moon. In the incredible Hunter’s Moon that hanged, powerful and enormous, for a short while. As I was driving home, the sun sinking behind the mountains at my back , the majestic Moon was rising in the Eastern sky, capturing and reflecting the dying light from the sun. I was moon-struck. You don’t get to see such moons very often.

It’s the moon that give the hunters light to finish their task, even as the sun sinks down. It can also be used by the harvesters to finish gathering the crops (although they got their own harvest moon, 28 days ago).

In between those moons, we’ve been harvesting.

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