Tomato-braised lamb steaks, kale, and garlic bread

What month is it?... September, seriously?

The summer was an absolute blast. An absolute blur, to be sure, but man did we have some fun. Met scores of cool people, made great connections, and started allowing ourselves to dream a little bigger. Like a good li'l group of STEM professionals, we had designed the summer as a feasibility experiment: can we grow food, and will people want to buy it? After a long, hot summer of backbreaking research, the data have been interpreted thusly: Hell. Yeah. I'll cop to minor cherry-picking, but you know you can take the girl outta the lab, can't take the lab outta the girl. Overwhelmingly, our successes outweighed our failures, Farmer Pop's cholesterol went down 30 points, and I never want to see another zucchini again.

We established a Saturday morning home base at Saint Michael's Farmers Market, where they really treated us wonderfully and we got to know the names of our "regulars" pretty quickly. Our produce could have been on your place at Nonna, Restaurant AVA, or Bolsa, not to mention amazing Patina Green Home and Market, our neighbors in McKinney (who recently won Food Network's best sandwich in Texas). You may have had our veggies delivered to you by Greenling, too. And I've already got a couple new places already lined up for fall, like the Green House food truck and a very cool new all-organic shop opening up in Lower Greenville, Green Grocer. [This paragraph has been brought to you by the word Green.] 

Make a friend. Share your kale.

Ratatouille

Summer bounty... my fave.

I haven't been around much, so first of all, I must apologize. But I promise it has been for good cause; the farm is absolutely kicking ass. We've got more zucchini than you can shake a stick at (and I've shaken a lot of sticks at them let me tell you), basil bushes the size of pre-teens, pole beans just begging for another foot of trellis so they can plow further skyward. It is an absolutely wondrous thing of beauty, and we spend an embarrassing amount of time just strolling through the rows, winding vines on stakes and peeking under leaves, giggling while shouting what we've found to each other across the fields. I love how the cars on the road slow as they pass, how the passengers faces break into smiles as they point at all our hard work.

This is not to say everything has gone perfectly. Apparently the entire Collin County blister beetle population had never experienced the culinary foodgasm that is our potato plant foliage, so they dropped in and called aaaaaall their friends. Farmer Dad and I bravely fought the bastards for weeks before conceding yesterday... about four weeks shy of full growth. There ought to be some new potatoes under there, so all is not lost, but you won't be seeing Pure Land Organic potatoes next year, that's fo sho. Win some, lose some.

Yellow tomato gazpacho

This time of year, one of my favorite things to do is count the tomatoes on my countertop. 

From the garden this morning I collected six Husky Red Cherries, two nice Celebrities, and two orangey Old Germans. Living with them on the counter is also one big red guy from the "Texas Tomatoes" bin at Central Market (I suspect it's a Celebrity or Carnival). Even though I know I have a virtually limitless supply of tomatoes this year, I can't walk past the bin without buying a couple. Because, what if the five plants in my garden and the thousand plants at the farm die?? I should secure alternative tomatoes, just in case. And from the farm, five beautiful Yellow Perfections and fourteen little Golden Nuggets. I stow them in an assortment of cute bowls on the counter and visit multiple times a day to smile down at them and count again. I don't know why... it just makes me happy.

Farmer Pop and I have been busting our sweaty humps out at the farm (exactly one year old today - happy birthday, little farm) and yes, we really do have about a thousand beautiful tomato plants. Eight varieties in all, from little bitty red Sweeties to gnarly giant Beefsteaks. I spent the better part of yesterday morning scooting along the tomato rows in the sunshine, gently encouraging the plants up into the twine support lines, basking in the perfume of their leaves and grinning like a filthy, sweaty idiot. Every once in a while I'd stumble upon a ripe one and snag it for Quality Control. Yes... sweet, delicious Quality Control.

Paccheri and cheese with peas and mint

After many weeks of threatening without delivering, it is actually raining in the Metroplex. This is farmerspeak for "Yay, day off!!"

I made this so long ago, I had wanted to recommend it to you guys for Easter. Obviously, I'm still trying to work out my farm/blog/life balance... bear with me. Anyway, this is a great little pasta, perfect for a gathering as part of a buffet since it's not the kind of thing you want to make an entire meal of; it's yet another glorified mac and cheese, really. Fresh in-shell peas are still in big glorious piles at Central Market, and they just scream "eeeee spring!" to me. (And as of this morning, they finally have ramps too! Eeeeeee SUPER SPRING!) Peas and mint are a classic combination, of course, made all the more interesting with a few Italian cheeses: Parmesan, Fontina, and ricotta (although ricotta is not technically a cheese). 

Another day, another frittata

Last week, at the tender age of 29 and 15 months, I officially retired from the rat race. Pure Land Organic FTE: 2. 

It was weirdly unsettling at first. We got in late Sunday night after a fun weekend with family in Louisiana. Monday morning, I was completely adrift. It felt like I had called in sick to work but wasn't actually sick, which I've never been able to do without a thick, sticky coating of guilt and shame (oh, my character!) even when I actually was sick. After a few hours of hemhorraging money to have my brakes replaced, I took myself to Central Market to rectify our empty fridge, then made étouffée for dinner with the leftover tails we shucked from the crawfish boil my cute husband made on Saturday. 

Tuesday morning, Farmer Pop came over. We had White Rock Coffee, omelets, and a nice long meeting, generating a three page to-do list (single spaced, y'all). I mentioned the weird feeling hovering over me as if  I was playing hooky, and having just been through it himself a few years ago, he replied, "... it'll go away." The dogs were pleasantly confused by my presence at home and duly delighted at Grandpa's until he headed up to help our neighbor dig holes for fence posts (a PTO driven auger will make you friends). We had lots of family in town, so later on we had everyone over for dinner. I served grilled lemon and oregano chicken with spring asparagus, freshly procured green onion Savoie's sausage and spicy boudin from Louisiana, rosemary balsamic roasted beets and carrots, and a green garlic and Swiss chard risotto. The oregano, rosemary, beets, carrots, green garlic, and chard came from my garden. My Mama brought her world-famous (literally) Kahlua chocolate cake for dessert. 

Wednesday, I packed a little two-person lunch of chicken salad sandwiches from the previous night's leftovers, and headed for the farm. Farmer Pop and I rolled out a shit ton of irrigation tape (one "shit ton" is metric for 900 feet) and got rained on. We learned that the pump we have generates enough water pressure at the end of 900 plus feet to make it function as a fire hose. That was fun. Then we plowed the top terrace (I place my current tractor skills at about a 2, but practice makes hopefully mediocre, one day) and marveled at all the wonderful roots that had been laid down by the cover crops. I learned I definitely need to invest in some work boots, got quite filthy, and made Cajun salmon soft tacos in like 5 seconds for dinner. 

Thursday the forecast called for rain, so I hunkered down at home and started to crack our crop rotation plan. One of the most critical techniques in organic farming is crop rotation; you should never put crops of the same family in the same place in direct succession. The longer you can go without replanting the same family in the same spot, the better (it has to do primarily with the soil nutrition but also all kinds of things like the insects and microbes left behind from certain crops affecting detrimentally or beneficially certain following crops). This is not tremendously difficult per se; it's more like a logic puzzle, so it just takes a bit of thought. The dogs were tickled pink that Mama was home. Of course, it didn't rain, so the non-sissy employee had another productive day on the tractor. For dinner, I made lime shrimp with coconut rice and roasted acorn squash. 

Friday morning, Farmer Pop and I did some collective head-scratching at the little index card village making up my rough crop rotation, but ultimately came up with a solid plan... it seems, thus far. Then he went out to buy a tiller and wrecked shop on the top flat and terrace, which we ought to have completely filled within the next couple of weeks. I spent an ungodly amount of time flipping back and forth through Howard Garrett's Texas Organic Vegetable Gardening and compiled planting and harvesting dates for each of our major crop groups to start a Project file. Later, I did a little meal planning and grocery shopping, at which point the dogs became hysterical because Mama lives at home now Mama can't leave, EVER. Then I quickly whipped up this frittata using my master recipe with Brussels sprout leaves from the garden, a couple slices of ham, and the leftover acorn squash. 

And the weird feeling? It's still there, but I feel it starting to fade. I give it another couple days tops, because I'm about to have so much work to do, I'm not even going to remember what it felt like to play hooky. I'm hoping to schedule some "blogging time" at least weekly, but I just have no idea how crazy it's going to get, so please bear with me (and "like" our Facebook page, I put a lot of pictures up there and plan to even more frequently as things get interesting).


Happy spring!