Hardly hibernating

I don't know where folks get the idea that gardeners and farmers aren't working in the winter. The same goes for food educators. My goodness, there are gardens to plan, pieces of equipment to fix, seed catalogs to browse, bee hives to build...

And there are plenty of fun indoor lessons to teach! Seriously, it's freezing out -- what better time could there be to look closely at soil in the classroom? Here are some kindergarteners examining soil samples brought in by Zach, the farmer-in-residence at one of my schools:

The coldest months also tend to be when many garden/farming-related events happen, like the annual Chesapeake Alliance for Sustainable Agriculture conference up in College Park earlier this month. Or  the awesome and free annual Rooting DC forum, coming up at the end of February.

Among my favorite activities are wintertime seed swaps, like the one put on by Washington Gardener Magazine earlier today. My friend Mike kindly gave me a lift to and from Brookside Gardens (which I hear is quite beautiful when it's not under three feet of snow). There, we met other area gardeners, learned about winter sowing, and oohed and aahed at some of the unusual varieties people had brought along to trade. I even worked up the nerve to make a little pitch for folks to check out Slow Food Ark of Taste seeds, a few of which I had to offer at the swap. (Have I mentioned how I generally avoid public speaking because it is scary? Though it was a large group, it was a friendly crowd, and exactly the type of folks who would buy into growing and eating heirloom foods in order to preserve them. So I spoke up. Now where's my gold star?) It was so fun to see folks really stoked about the new varieties of tomatoes, flowers, and odd cucumbers they would be growing in warmer months, and a handful of them asked me about my white velvet okra seeds. "Yep, they can grow to be eight feet tall." Holy plantzilla, Batman!

This year, I'm going to try growing quinoa for the first time, from the heirloom seeds I got at the swap today. (Lord knows I eat enough quinoa to justify growing it.) And I'm going to attempt growing a bed of asparagus for the second time. (I think I got bad rootstock last year. Hmm.) Now, where will they fit in my limited garden space...? Wish me luck!

Pickle me this...

Yesterday was just beautiful. Still a bit cool for my taste, with highs in the low 50s, but nice and sunny, and so, compared to recent weather, rather balmy. So Kenton and I decided to bike the 5 miles or so -- nearly all uphill, thank you very much -- from my place to the Takoma Park farmers' market. I was on the lookout for produce to pickle for my workshop next weekend, and I did leave with a pannier filled with local turnips. I was also tasked with bringing some salad greens for brunch at my dear friend Susan's place, where we'd be heading after the market. I don't know how the chocolate pudding got into my bag. Must've been Kenton's doing.

It's a good thing our ride home was 6 miles of mostly downhill after the double-fondue luncheon. Susan broke out first the smoked salmon and cream cheese, and then the cheese fondue with fresh bread, and then the chocolate and fresh fruit fondue, with plenty of chilled white wine throughout. Lordy, was that a tasty meal. And my salad was well received: a bowl of tender mixed greens, toasted walnuts, and pickled grapes with a curry vinaigrette. (What, like I was just going to bring some greens? C'mon.) It would've been nice with a few little blobs of chevre, but considering the cheesy nature of the bulk of our meal, I opted to leave that out this first go-round.

Pickled grapes?? Yes. I'd been thinking about these since I first heard of pickled grapes at last year's Rooting DC pickling session, so I decided to tinker with a few recipes. This one is adapted from Molly Wizenberg’s A Homemade Life.  Delicious in salads (as proven yesterday), or alongside roast chicken, likely tasty in a chicken salad, and definitely as a nibbly alternative to olives (as proven this evening as I type and try not to drip mustard-anise solution on the keyboard).

Pickled Grapes

Combine in an 8oz jar:

• 1/3 cup white wine vinegar

• 5 tsp apple cider vinegar

• 2 tsp mustard seed

• 4-5 whole black peppercorns

• ½ star anise, crushed

• large pinch salt

• (you can add a spoonful of sugar if you like, but I find the grapes themselves have plenty)

Once dissolved -- you can speed up the process by simmering the solution in a small pot on the stove before pouring into your jar -- add:

• grapes (about ¼ lb), preferably seedless, stems removed
• ½ cinnamon stick

Add additional apple cider vinegar as needed to be sure all grapes are submerged. Seal and refrigerate for 2 days before using.

I'll be leading another session on pickle making at this weekend's Rooting DC conference, but this time along with my favorite refrigerator pickles, I'll have stuff to make these unusual but tasty pickled grapes, as well as lemon rosemary pickled green beans (that I suspect would make for kickin' bloody mary stir sticks...).

Back to my roots

This past Saturday, aspiring and accomplished urban gardeners celebrated the 6th annual -- and best ever -- Rooting DC. It was the fourth time I attended the free, all-day conference, and the second time I've presented. (Me! An expert at something! I have been known to preserve a thing or two in my day....) This time, instead of demonstrating how one could make vegan kim chi, as I did in 2010, dozens of us made kim chi together. And pickles, too. It was an exercise in controlled chaos.

As soon as I finished giving a primer on the basics of pickling and fermenting, the workshop attendees pounced on the tableful of produce, spices, and equipment. (I forget sometimes that adults need instructions and parameters, too. At least they were all avid handwashers, if not so much washers of tables and dishes.) The enthusiasm was electrifying, though, and as I made a few rounds passing out additional kim chi mashers and suggesting folks pass along ingredients they weren't using to other groups who needed more greens or mustard seed, I couldn't help but smile.

There were easily double the number of people I'd expected. Luckily we had enough jars, kindly donated by my fellow Slow Food DC board members, supplemented with more jars donated by my friend Jessica at GrowingSOUL, and a random assortment of glassware I'd amassed in the weeks leading up to the hands-on workshop. Using a big, beautiful crate of beets, turnips, radishes, cabbages, kale, and onions from the lovely Farmer Mo at Moutoux Orchards, plus cucumbers from the grocery store (they're not in season yet, but I didn't want to get attacked by folks expecting traditional pickles at a pickling workshop) and a load of spices picked up at GLUT, we chopped, peeled, mashed, and stuffed jars full of savory treats. Cinnamon sticks were hammered on cutting boards, vinegar solutions concocted in mixing bowls.

People asked lots of good questions, and I left with some research to undertake. (Like what is this about pickling grapes?? I'm so on it!) Nobody lost a finger, and the only missing implement after all was said and done was a set of measuring spoons. Not bad.

Getting back to my roots

I love Rooting DC. It gets me all kinds of worked up. No, in a good way. Heck, I left the urban composting demonstration at the 2009 event with a bee in my bonnet that was buzzing nonstop until I got myself an Oscar the Grouch trashcan to set up my own backyard bin. Once again, the speakers and presenters helped demystify all kinds of projects I'd been hoping for some time to tackle myself, things ranging from small-space gardening to growing shiitakes on logs. I was just as fired up this year, leaving the Coolidge High School auditorium with all the seed packets I could stuff into my handbag and a conviction that the time had come to grow my own mushrooms.

I sat mesmerized as Nazirahk, who runs Purple Mountain Organics in nearby Takoma Park, talked the group of us through how to set up our very own shiitake logs. (Finally, some perk to having a mostly shaded back yard! Not that I don't love my little garden plot, but the tomatoes last summer were a bit put out by the lack of sunlight.) I learned about different types of spawn, application techniques, and even what varieties of logs to seek as host sites for my future motherlode of mushrooms. I was right up in the front row as our workshop leader broke out the high-powered drill and started showing us how to prepare our logs. Wood chips were flying everywhere, even into my hair, but I wouldn't've traded that seat for the world as I scribbled down notes on how to start cultivating my own mycelium. I couldn't stop thinking about fungus during the bike ride back home. I must get myself a decent maple or oak log and inoculate it asap with some wide-range shiitake spawn. Unless I come across some poplar and want to try my hand at oyster mushrooms. Or maybe I can do both. Now, where to find myself a free log....

A few hours later, while out salsa dancing with friends, I met a guy who happened to mention he had been hauling around fallen tree limbs earlier in the day. I wish he'd told me about the 5"-diameter, 3'-long oak logs that are PERFECT for growing shiitakes before I'd given him a fake phone number. Darn. Well, hopefully we'll run into each other again and laugh about it. I mean, seriously, I thought he'd get the 80s reference....

So, step 1 is to get myself a log. Step 2 is to find a few folks to go in on a bag of sawdust and mushroom spawn with me. (It appears that the $25 bags will seed a good 20 logs or so and I can hardly talk my way into 20 free logs. Though I could probably eat 20 logs' worth of shiitakes.) Step 3 is to borrow a high-powered drill....

At present, I have no log nor spores nor equipment, but I've got shrooms on the brain. I couldn't resist picking up this little bunch at the Dupont market earlier today. Apparently others who attended yesterday's workshop had beaten me to the mushroom stand, as they were fresh out of shiitakes. Hmmm.