West Hartford CSA Pickup July 2nd – BetJuly 2, 2013 at 10:50 am | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment
Harvest Notes July 2nd 2013
Panisse Oak Leaf Lettuce We are exploring the spectrum of lettuce types this season with everything from crisp romaine to butterheads. Panisse lettuce has tender, oak-shaped leaves.
Magenta Summer Crisp Lettuce In contrast to Panisse, this lettuce is very crunchy. This week the versatility and diversity of lettuce is on display.
Carrots We always include the greens of our first carrots because a) they are beautiful, b) they make the carrots bunchable, c) they remind us that carrots come from the ground and not little plastic bags, and d) they make wonderful soup stock. From here on out, the quality of the greens will go downhill and we will snap them off.
Basil Theese bunches of young basil will store best on the counter with their stems in water, like a bouquet of flowers. Try this basil salad dressing on a big pile of lettuce, carrots, beets, peas, and broccoli.
Broccoli This is the only planting of broccoli that survived our spring hail storm. We should have more in the fall but this is it for the summer.
Salad Mix A triple washed mix of baby lettuce, purslane, and mustards.
Sugar Snap Peas We wish we had more of these per share. The plants suffered with so much rain and haven’t yielded as heavily as expected. They make a very satisfying addition to salads or plain as raw snacks.
Garlic Scapes Its never too early in the season to think about preserving summer’s bounty for winter’s long nights and scape pesto freezes well. You will receive scapes for the next couple of weeks so there is plenty of time to also live in the moment with these scape recipes. Here are some good garlic scape tips from a nearby CT farm.
Adamah farm apprentice Allie Comet recommended this bit of beet wisdom from a California farmer friend of hers. I must say, I agree with this farmer’s awe!
An Ode to Beets by Farmer Maisie Ganz
I can’t contain myself. The beets are ready. This may very well be the greatest time of year.
You see, there is a sort of humble individualism that I admire about the beet. It is unlike the showier leafy vegetables that flaunt their supple greens, their vibrant flowers, their curling vines. The beet’s beauty surpasses all the other crops, and yet it quietly grows beneath the soil, bragging to no one of its splendor. Sure there are other root vegetables, and while carrots have their charm, most are meekly hiding their blandness beneath the cover of earth – these parsnips, rutabagas, turnips, and potatoes. They grow subterranean in order to escape the blinding sunlight on their starchy off-white bodies, ashamed to be such a boring addition to the vegetable kingdom. The beet’s uniqueness is like a flash of genius in their world of topsoil and earthworms. The beet, unlike its lesser root-cousins, is not hiding, it is waiting. Waiting to be plucked from the earth, to shine with vivid sparkling brilliance its reds, pinks, and oranges. Wash a beet and notice the way it seems to glow from the inside. Cut a beet and worship the rings of red, revel in the stained fingertips, meditate on the smell of earth’s blood. Roast a beet and share it with a friend. Shred a beet and let it mingle in a marinade. Boil a beet and drink the tonic by yourself, in the woods, with the coyotes yapping drunk on the moonlight.
Invading Roman armies took beets with them into northern Europe to feed their horses. John Muir went into the Sierras with nothing but a loaf of bread, his over-coat, and a beet. When Neil Armstrong took his first step on the moon, there was a beet in his pocket. Einstein ate tender beet greens every day. Robert Frost found a field of beets when he took the road less traveled by. Jackson Pollock’s favorite red paint? Jack Kerouac’s generation? Susan B. Anthony’s middle name? Beet.
Beets. A gift from the gods, from the earth, from the farmers – to you.
Feel lucky. Feel alive. Eat more beets.