CSA

Beauty and Ferocity – Day 1038

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Simply Lovely – Photo: L. Weikel

Beauty and Ferocity

The photos accompanying this post are the reason for the title, “Beauty and Ferocity.”

The ‘beauty’ part of this post, while it could absolutely apply to either or both of the photos, is actually assigned, in my mind, to the photo of the flower arrangement, above. This lovely arrangement of flowers was created by my daughter-in-law Tiffany.

I think what I love most about this arrangement is what I witnessed in her creation of it. First of all, it is comprised of flowers she picked at the local CSA, to which she belongs. Having pinch-hit a couple of times for her, I know that it is a labor of love to pick the flowers that are included in her share.

It takes time and attention to select just the right blooms. And while it is lovely to simply ‘be’ outside amongst these flourishing plants that are so obviously well-cared for and vigilantly tended, it can get hot. And there is a knack to choosing the perfect blossoms that will come into harmony with each other.

Loving Attention

But what really blows me away is the loving and meticulous attention Tiffany brings to creating the bouquet itself. Me? I plop what I’ve picked into a glass milk bottle or other vase, fill it with cold water and maybe arrange the colors and textures to suit my eye.

Tiffany, on the other hand, sits patiently with her scissors and trims each and every stem of each and every blossom. She meticulously removes the lower leaves, and makes a fresh cut on the bottoms of the stems so they can drink deeply of the cool water she places them in.

I know I’m not doing justice to the love and attention she puts into creating a spray of color and love that Karl and I enjoy all week. But I notice.

Dragon’s Face – Photo: L. Weikel

Ferocity

The other photo I’m including is the face of a dragon that came swirling out of the sky toward me today as Spartacus and I did a walk-about. You might not see it at first, but I bet if you soften your gaze, you’ll see her.

She looks ferocious, but my sense is that she was more guardian than threat.

(T-73)

Massaged Kale – Day 973

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Massaged Kale* – Photo: L. Weikel

Massaged Kale

In yesterday’s blog I referenced my absolute favorite way to eat kale. Actually, aside from the extremely rare (i.e., maybe once a year) impulse-adds to a stew or a stir-fry, massaged kale is the only way I prepare this prolific leafy green vegetable.

I think I first saw the recipe for massaged kale on Facebook. I’m pretty sure I’d never eaten kale before. There’s no doubt in my mind that I never even once ate it when I was growing up. We were mostly an iceberg lettuce kind of family – albeit I was usually in charge of ‘making the salad,’ and I’d cut up tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions if we had them.

It never even occurred to me, growing up, that there were any other types of lettuce beside iceberg. Surely I must’ve seen it in the grocery store.

And to think I grew up on a farm.

Hang On

Before you get all indignant and castigate my parents for being the worst farmers ever, I need to clarify: they weren’t farmers. We lived on a dairy farm. And that’s not even completely accurate, as no milking took place there. Our stone farmhouse was bordered by acres and acres of fenced-in pasture where heifers roamed. Yup. I grew up on a farm surrounded with teenage cows.

My father was a salesman for Bethlehem Steel and my mother was a librarian. And they both grew up in a suburb of Boston.

And when I was growing up in the ‘60s and ‘70s, there were no farmers’ markets teeming with fresh produce. It was cool to buy everything canned – or I guess maybe frozen occasionally, too. Bird’s Eye frozen vegetables. Yeah. I remember those little freezer bricks.

Now that I’m thinking about fresh vegetables, though…there was nothing that could compare to eating peas fresh off the vine in my best friend Chris’s grandfather’s garden. We’d just stand there, picking them off the vine, compulsively zipping them open and stripping the sweet, pearl-shaped treasures into our mouths with our teeth. Oh, yum.

Shoo-shoo grew spectacular vegetables, the most memorable to me being those peas and a variety of tomatoes. (I can just hear him now in his thick Italian accent, saying “Tomat!” and gesturing with his immaculate, calloused hands and a big grin on his face.) I think he wanted us to pick them – not eat them. Get to work. Earn our keep.

Back to the Kale

When I saw the recipe for Massaged Kale on FB, I had no preconceived distaste for kale lurking on my palate. Perhaps that made it easier for me try the recipe in the first place. I have to admit, the taste of just plain old steamed kale doesn’t do a lot for me. I don’t even like the smell of it. So yeah, my kale innocence was probably a boon. So for those of you who are kale cynics, I urge you to pretend you’ve never had it before.

The recipe itself couldn’t be simpler:

I like to use a good pound of kale. (That looks like a lot but trust me on this.) Strip the leaves from the main stalks using a large sharp knife. Once you’ve stripped the whole pound of kale, compost the stems – unless you’re a fanatic and make broth out of it or something. (I’m sure many of you out there would do more than just compost, but hey – we all have our limitations.)

Rip apart the pile of stripped leaves and put the pieces into a big salad or mixing bowl – the bigger the better. You’ll probably have to strip and rip several piles. It doesn’t hurt to squeeze them a bit as you’re ripping them, too. Every effort to break down the cellular structure of the kale benefits you in the long run. This is the part of the recipe that takes the longest.

Your bowl will probably be brimming with shredded kale leaves. Dress it liberally with olive oil: a good long drizzle in a couple of circles. Add maybe a tablespoon of sea salt – I like to lightly sprinkle the coarse size. And then add the juice of a whole fresh lemon.

Next is the best part: dive in and squeeze, kneed, and massage (hence the name) that kale. Do not take no for an answer. Pretend that kale represents your shoulders and give that green stuff some serious tough love.

You’ll be amazed at how quickly it becomes tame! That big puffy stuff that felt a bit stiff and unyielding and almost overflowed its bowl turns a richer, darker color and breaks down into a totally different and oddly compliant creature.

The final delectable addition is your choice: I like to add at least a good bunch of either white or red grapes sliced in half. Another favorite is at least a cup of sliced strawberries.  I’ve also occasionally used blueberries, although I prefer either grapes or strawberries.

Delicious

I’d like to note that I’ve massaged every type of kale I’ve encountered – both at the CSA and at the grocery store – and it all responds to my loving but assertive touch. I can’t recommend strongly enough that you really let yourself go on this – use it as a therapeutic tool just as so many kneed dough for bread. The more compliant your kale, the more delicious it tastes.

If you have any leftover, you may need to add more lemon juice the next day. (I tend to like my massaged kale tart (lemon juice), savory (sea salt), and sweet (grapes or strawberries). The mélange of flavors just floats my boat.

I hope it does yours, too. Try it!

*To be fair, this is a photo I took a few weeks ago to herald my first batch of the season. I didn’t make any this weekend, so I didn’t have a ‘more beautiful’ photo to share. This was just a random one I took to send to my kids, who all profess to love it…

(T-138)

Refuge – Day 972

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  • Monarch on Echinacea – Photo: L. Weikel

Refuge

Right around noon today I unexpectedly encountered several minutes of profound peace. I rediscovered a place where the air is sweet and vast, and if you time it just right, wraps you in a cocoon of silence. Before today, I don’t think I would’ve called it this, but – it’s a place of refuge.

One of my daughters (in-law*) belongs to a local CSA. Tiffany is generous and makes a point of sharing her bounty with us. I (well, we) reciprocate in some small measure by picking up the weekly harvest when she can’t make it and occasionally massaging the kale. (Yes; that’s a thing. And I guarantee it’s the yummiest way to eat kale you’ve ever tried.)

Today was my turn.

After gathering up our allotment of precious bounty: red onions, cucumbers, carrots, kale, parsley, cabbage, summer squash and zucchini, I turned my sites on the vast fields where we get to ‘pick our own.’

Lots of Pollen On These Two – Photo: L. Weikel

Loose In the Fields

The CSA administrators essentially let us loose in the fields to pick our own raspberries and cherry tomatoes. We’re not entitled to pick as many as we might like; just like any good thing, there are limits. Indeed, getting to the fields late can mean you may not even be able to eke out half a pint of either, at least when the yield is only starting to come in.

We’re also welcome to pick from a variety of herbs, which I didn’t do; and I think okra may be in season as well. (That’s an interesting vegetable that could merit a post of its own.) But one of the best parts of the field is being entitled to pick the flowers they’ve cultivated.

Is It the Acoustics?

The acoustics of the fields are remarkable. Technically, it’s not actually the fields that cause the amazing acoustics, it’s the palisades, the massive stone edifices that tower over the fields that create almost a fishbowl of sound. When other people are picking their veggies or flowers, even if they’re chatting with someone quietly, right beside them, it’s guaranteed you’ll be able to hear every nuance of that conversation.

I have a feeling that’s why most people, if they don’t immediately enter a meditative state, reflexively lower their voices to a whisper when engaging in ‘pick-your-own.’ Because voices carry so easily and crisply, when they’re not there at all, silence bounces off of silence and it’s as if we’re in a sound-proof booth.

The totality of the experience is hard to describe but easy to lose oneself in.

Early Season Jewels – Photo: L. Weikel

Reverie

The coneflower, also known as Echinacea, was a mecca for the pollinators. Oh my goodness, it was such a delight to see all manner of bees, butterflies, and other winged ones imbibing.

At one point it dawned on me that I was the last person standing in the middle of that field. The only sounds I heard were the sudden screeches of crows that were hounding a red-tailed hawk. Hawk didn’t take the strong but silent route, either. It scree’d its indignation right back at them as it took up residence in a massive oak at the edge of the field.

Almost all the flowers were covered with pollinators. I couldn’t bear to pick the vast majority of them. And indeed, when one of the employees came out to the field (not sure if they were looking for me or what), I shared with them some of the other prizes I was harvesting – my photos.

The Spirits of this Place know that the manner in which these vegetables, fruits, flowers, and other plants are being cared for is sacred. The reverence creates a palpable refuge for all Beings seeking nurturing, nourishment, and peace.

(T-139)

Weird Thing at the CSA – Day 681

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 Grandmother Walking With Cane – Photo: L. Weikel

Weird Thing at the CSA

I have to admit, it’s tough trying to think of something to write when I’m in the midst of feeling anything I write is a waste of time. This isn’t a denigration of my writing per se, but more a commentary on the futility I’m feeling as I simply observe life outside the confines of my own little homestead. While I’m busy acting like Homer Simpson quietly backing into the hedges in order to blend into the background, it’s rather counter-intuitive for me to be speaking out about anything substantive. Which is why I want to tell you about the weird thing at the CSA today.

I’m not the actual owner of the CSA share this year; that honor belongs to my daughter-in-law and son. But I occasionally go to the farm to pick up their order (which they generously share with us) when they’re otherwise disposed. Every time I’ve gone this season, part of my duties have entailed walking into the field to the ‘pick-your-own’ section, which includes (or at least used to) a wide variety of cherry tomatoes, okra, raspberries, hot peppers, and flowers.

Ah, the flowers. Simply lovely. I forgot to take a photo earlier of those I picked today, which is unfortunate. But the reason I neglected to document the bouquets of loveliness was because I became distracted by a tall, naturally occurring piece of modern art in the midst of the pick-your-own.

Shhhh – Photo: L. Weikel

Don’t Know How I Missed It

I’d just completed my harvesting rounds this afternoon when I laid eyes for the first time on this odd declaration of Mother Earth’s vegetative creativity. My first thought was, “How did I miss seeing this every other time I’ve been here?”

I still remain ignorant on that score, as well as on the simple identification of the vegetation itself.

“You’re getting heavy” – Photo: L. Weikel

But I managed to take a few shots of it from a variety of angles so you can gain a first-hand appreciation of this natural ‘installation’ gracing the Tinicum CSA’s ‘pick-your-own’ field.

I’m not even going to wax rhapsodic about what I ‘see’ when I look at this wonderfully weird plant. I’ll just leave it here for you to enjoy. Allow it to inspire you to seek out the creative source in your vegetation as well.

I am still puzzling over how I could’ve missed seeing this every other time I visited this field. Maybe I saw it today for the first time because of the magic of the Autumn Equinox?!

Playing Piggyback – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-430)

Short and Sweet… – Day 349

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Pigeon Potato – Photo: L. Weikel

Short and Sweet…

Oh, you probably caught on to my little word play there, right?

Short and sweet…POTATO, that is!

I know. Hilarious. But hey – it’s way later than usual for me to be starting this post, and I really have to go with the flow. And the flow is telling me that tonight is the night for a post about another weirdly shaped vegetable that’s come into my life.

Yes, an anthropomorphic carrot once had a post of its own, so it only seems right that I would feature this very cool sweet potato that very obviously has avian DNA. I originally titled the photos I took of this root vegetable ‘Goose Potato.’ But upon closer inspection, I’m thinking it much more resembles a ‘Pigeon Potato.’ A sweet pigeon potato, to be exact.

Primitive Art or Random Vegetable?

When I pulled the sweet potato out of the bag of vegetables Tiffany shared with us from our local CSA, Plowshares Farm, I knew it was special. Indeed, I took it outside onto our porch so I could look at it in natural sunlight, because the markings on its head make its ‘beak’ and eye quite obvious.

Karl saw me examining it outside on the porch, saw me photographing it, and even asked me where I’d gotten it. “Tiffany,” I replied.

“What? Did she make it or something?” he asked, bewildered. “Where’d she get it?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, and think I may have been a bit snappish in my response. “Plowshares Farm, where she gets all the veggies,” I responded.

The expression on Karl’s face made no sense to me. It was as if something major did not compute. “What?” I asked, pressing him. “It’s a sweet potato!”

“Get out of town!” he laughed. “I thought it was some sort of primitive art or something – or maybe a sculpture you made yourself long ago.”

I looked at the sweet potato pigeon in my hand and smiled. He’d actually mistaken it for a piece of art – which it is, in its own way. But I knew exactly the little sculpture I had from my childhood that caused his confusion. (I’ll see if I can find it and post a photo of it tomorrow.)

“Nope,” I replied. “Just another weird vegetable –“

“For you to write a blog post about!” he interjected, laughing.

Yup.

Pigeon Potato Getting a Drink – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-762)