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Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Persephone Days

Plants and humans have a lot in common. Like humans, plants need water, nutrients, and air to live. 

And light. We all need the light.

Growing up on a family farm in South Carolina, my dad always pointed out the winter solstice or “shortest day.” It marked a turning point in his seasonal mindset. Sure, he had a farmer's seasonal awareness for planning farm activities. But for both my parents, who suffered from seasonal depression, the winter solstice was more about the longest night than the shortest day. The winter solstice marked a point at which things would get better. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, better. With each passing day, the long night would be just a little shorter and the short day just a little longer. Some of us tend to think of growing seasons in terms of temperature only. We don't have lush winter gardens because its too darn cold! But the length of the day is almost as important as the temperature. I had a vague awareness of plant light needs from my childhood on the farm, but I didn't know those short winter days had another name until my garden friend Dana told me a few weeks ago. (Thanks, Dana!)

Enter the Persephone Period

Thursday, March 18, 2021

Fallow

You may sow your crops and reap them, but in the seventh year, let it rest and lie untilled. In that year the land will provide food for the poor, and what they don't take will go to the wild animals. Do the same with your vineyards and olive groves. (Exodus 23:10–11, The Inclusive Bible)

The Fallow

by Anna Wickham

Now, Tiller, hold your grain,
Leave her to sun and rain
And the kind air
Then trench her with a well-judged measure
Of feeding pleasure,
And give her peace
To dream of her increase
And your good care.
Well might you reap miraculous yield
From such a happy, nourished field!

We planted and tended through spring, summer, fall, and a month of winter at the Parktown garden. We also spent weeks digging up tenacious landscape fabric and layering cardboard, hub-grown compost, and chipped tree mulch. The areas we didn't plant lay fallow. Our hope was in the theology of the compost, hope that rich compost made from things decaying and discarded would resurrect some unnaturally compacted and lifeless soil that had lived a previous life as a preschool playground.

Fallowing soil, or leaving it unplanted for a period of time, is a recognized land or garden management technique. It's good for the soil. It's regenerative. Depleted soil nutrients and beneficial microorganisms are regenerated in a season of rest. This sounds such a positive thing that I was surprised to pick up a distinctively negative vibe when I looked up the word “fallow” online. Just take a look at some of the synonyms below.

 Fallow (from Google's dictionary, accessed 2/18/2021, http://tinyurl.com/2dnskglv)

adjective

1. (of farmland) plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility as part of a crop rotation or to avoid surplus production. "incentives for farmers to let the land lie fallow in order to reduce grain surpluses"

Similar: unused, undeveloped, dormant, resting, empty, bare, neglected, untended, unmanaged

Opposite: cultivated

2. inactive. "long fallow periods when nothing seems to happen"

Similar: dormant, quiet, slack, slow, flat, idle, inert, static, stagnant, depressed, unproductive, unfruitful

Opposite: productive.

Bare. Neglected. Unmanaged. Slack. Stagnant. Depressed. Unproductive. All the things we don't want to be. All the things the world tells us we shouldn't be. And not at all what we imagined when we pulled away the impermeable fabric and layered the compost with dreams of what we could plant in future.

Digging a little deeper into concepts of crop rotation and soil health, we stumbled upon Shmita. Shmita is the Jewish sabbatical year in a seven-year agricultural cycle. Although commonly translated as “sabbatical year,” Shmita literally means “release.” Unlike many Jewish practices that call the individual to participate, Shmita requires the participation of the individual AND the community. Shmita is a time to put down some of our personal pursuits in support of communal good.

It is a year of reset, not just for the land but for all of us. A year of reflection. A year of respite to learn more about agricultural practices, but not to actively cultivate and plant. A year in which anything that reseeds or grows as perennial may be eaten by the deer and rabbits or harvested by anyone passing by for their personal consumption. Perhaps a year of community harvest? A year to forgive debts. Perhaps a year to let go of the grievances we so often carry as a burden? A year to listen to each other and the land. A year of release.

Shmita has a biblical basis in Torah. The seventh agricultural sabbatical year echos the seventh day of creation, the day on which God rested. Although the biblical explanation predates modern agricultural practices, there seems to be a modern Shmita renaissance. Shmita is discussed as a part of sustainable agriculture, as an approach to climate change, and as a call to environmental awareness and stewardship. During this 2020-2021 pandemic season, Shmita points some people toward rent forgiveness for people who are struggling to make ends meet during the pandemic.

In fact, so great is the Shmita renaissance that the Jewish nonprofit Hazon has started the Shmita Project. The goal of the Shmita Project is to “... animate conversation and change in the world, based on the values and teachings of Shmita and focus on environmental sustainability, rest and overwork, debt and debt relief, relationship to land, food and time....”

The Shmita Project put out a Shmita PSA, a commercial that is just cheesy enough to draw me in. Never did I imagine I could watch an online commercial for a Jewish spiritual agricultural practice that speaks to my pandemic heart so powerfully in Hebrew with English subtitles. You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ah3Z_ZoFLcw&feature=youtu.be.

The next Shmita year officially starts for the Jewish community on Rosh Hashana 2021 (September 6, 2021). From September 2021 to September 2022 thousands of Jews will make commitments to be a stronger community of compassion. At Parktown we're still learning about Shmita, a release and reset to learn about gardening and to build community and the soil the soil. Fallowing together. To leave her to sun and rain and the kind air and give her peace.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Broccoli soup trimmed down

I made my scrumptious cream of broccoli soup a few weeks ago, with a few substitutions borne of necessity.

I didn't have any fresh broccoli, but I had some fresh broccoli slaw that was purchased on sale and needed to be eaten.

We didn't have much cream in the house, and what we did have was earmarked for the morning cup o' joe, so I made a low-fat substitution. Skim milk. Lactose-free skim milk, even.

The end result was a somewhat thinner, somewhat lighter soup, chock full of fiber and goodness. Don't get me wrong - I still added butter and a splash of cream and shredded cheese, so this was not a deprivation soup. (You know those soups. You follow some weight-loss recipe you see as click-bait on Facebook and serve up a watery broth to wash down your self-loathing.)

I'd call the trimmed down version a success, maybe a runner-up or even a slimmer knock-kneed  Miss Congeniality in the soup pageant. But I still recommend you click on the link above and make the original full-fat full-flavor version if you can

Thursday, May 2, 2013

The ghost of diets past

My earliest memories of diets and calorie restrictions revolve around Ayds diet candies and Roman Meal bread.

Ayds (pronounced "aids") was an individually wrapped candy that was either an appetite suppressant or a placebo. It had a very strong presence in my childhood home in the early 70s. I clearly remember the chocolate and caramel flavors nibbled before meals by my mother and older sister, usually with a nice hot cup of coffee. I was a kid - somewhere in the 5 to 7 year old range - and I'd sneak in and chow down on those candies by the handful. They were tasty and, I'm sure, oh so chemical. Probably accounts for the tics and recurrent blackouts today. Ayds candies would surely have fallen out of market favor by now even if the PR disaster of having a product name pronounced the same as a dread disease hadn't driven the product off the shelves.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Recipe redux - Cream of mushroom soup

What do you call a mushroom that picks up the bar tab? A fun-guy to be with!

Get it? Fun-guy to be with? Fungi to be with? I slay me!

Anywho.... The test drive of my soup recipe as a cream of mushroom was a smashing success.

I made the soup with two kinds of mushrooms. Probably not strictly necessary. And since I'm not a 'shroom expert, I can't say with certainty that the two kinds of mushrooms I used are the optimal mushroom mix. But it was good. Lick the bowl good. Trust me.

This would be a primo recipe to use when you find a mushroom markdown. (A mushroom markdown is like a ballroom blitz, only different.)

By the way, what happens to mushrooms beyond their expiration date? Do they get moldy? A fungus pileup?

But I digress. Here's the recipe.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Eat this post! Great cream of broccoli soup recipe

It's gotten a little cooler in my neck of the woods.

One of the things I like about living here in the southeast is that there are generally four distinct seasons. Sure, spring may be short-lived with a lurch right into hot weather. Or winter may seem like just a long extension of fall (especially last year, which was so unseasonably warm some people didn't even wear a coat all winter). But I can usually point to four separate seasons, each building excitement at the thought of the changes it brings.

Cooler weather calls for soup. There! I've taken a stand. My first adamant statement of the blog. Cool weather calls for soup, dammit!