crops

farmer tells all: here is the play by play of what is growing on the farm.

how to make creamed corn (plus ramblings from an urban farmer)

how to make creamed corn (plus ramblings from an urban farmer)

When I was a little girl I ate creamed corn from a can—and loved it. It was a special creamy treat. Today, the nostalgia kicks in and I still crave this ‘comfort-food’ side dish; I especially love taking old recipes and re-inventing them. As an urban farmer and chef, how to make creamed corn… [more] means I grow my own corn (and in this case dry my own thyme), then wield

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Iowa Cornquest: ‘you had me at farmers’

Iowa Cornquest: 'you had me at farmers'


Over a cinnamon role the size of my face, a bowl of whipped butter, biscuits and gravy and piles of bacon and sausage: I had a tearful moment. I was in the middle of farm country chatting with farmers and friends of farmers, ogling farm implements hanging on walls (at the Machine Shed… [more] restaurant in Iowa), surrounded by t-shirts for sale that hailed tractors and bacon. I was in farm-heaven

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tales from a first-year urban farmer: lessons, battles and a little relish.

tales from a first-year urban farmer: lessons, battles and a little relish.

Big globes of green hang heavily on the branches—glorious in size but blatantly denied the satisfaction of sun-ripened redness. I watch my tomatoes daily. I resist my fingertips, whose sole desire is to type the search term ‘green tomato recipes.’ I am not ready to give up on summer. If I aim to be a tomato farmer on my humble little Seattle urban farm: each year I will be tomato… [more]

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urban farm update: May/June 2012

urban farm update: May/June 2012

I almost feel like writing a book titled: Tales from a First Year Farmer. How else can I explain the cringe when I see a particularly juicy green caterpillar lunching on my fava beans? Or the pure joy when I find a pile of dead slugs, drowned in a small amount of beer near my traumatized sugar snap peas? It would be useful to share about building a trellis out… [more]

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urban farm update: April 2012

urban farm update: April 2012

Although we had hobby gardens when I was growing up—and even a few pigs, some chickens and beef cattle—I wasn’t taking in the planting schedule or paying attention to crop rotation. And which seeds do you start indoors versus directly sowing outdoors? I couldn’t even tell you what brand of seeds we used, the pattern of the sun on various patches of dirt or how to determine where to plant… [more]

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urban farm update: february 2012

urban farm update: february 2012

And by early spring I mean ‘wishful thinking.’ As in: it is all I can do to wait until the ‘dirt is warm’ for planting. Here in the Pacific Northwest, the soil isn’t warm to the touch until June (though at least my garlic is appearing—see pic above). I ogle my jars with seeds, but refrain from rushing outside to plant my corn and beets, tomatoes and pole beans. Instead,… [more]

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urban farm & house remodel (update dec 2011; Part 2)

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Want to read part 1… [more]? Part 1 is all about the house and yard remodel. Dirt and paint, really. Part 2 is an urban farm update: crops and animals.
I like saying ‘crops’. I know in reality I have a small collection of garden boxes, a ‘square’ of corn instead of long steady rows and probably only enough growing edibles to feed a single family. But regardless of the

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urban farm update: august 2011

urban farm update: august 2011

It seems summer is making an appearance in Seattle: finally. My squash and tomatoes are soaking up each ray (ahem: and so am I). Will my tomatoes turn red? It remains to be seen… at least the bite- size Sungolds offer a seasonal amuse bouche. I eat a few each day, while smiling and watering herbs, just-sprouting spinach and tomatoes—and plucking struggling leaves and tiny weeds.

I have climbing squash… [more]

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Chickens like fennel. I like cavalo nero.

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This owning chickens thing is so, so worth it. We are falling in love with this gaggle of creatures. My son said to me the other day: “mom, I just can’t get enough of these chickens.” None of us can. I peak around the corner and see: one son or the other, sitting in the coop with chickens nesting onĀ  their arms. I pluck fennel and arugula from my garden… [more]

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