Voted Off the Island

Fresh...the Movie

On top of all the tomatoes and zukes that are bursting forth from our gardens and jamming our refrigerators, foodies are having a feast discussing some new books and controversial articles about the future of cooking and the locavore movement, pro and con. 

And for sheer fun, the opening of Julie & Julia is at hand! Here's one more film event for food obsessed Atlantans:

A special screening of the film FRESH. FRESH celebrates the farmers, thinkers and business people across America who are re-inventing our food system. Among several main characters, FRESH features urban farmer and activist, Will Allen, a 2008 MacArthur’s “Genius Award” fellow; sustainable farmer and entrepreneur, Joel Salatin, made famous by Michael Pollan’s book, the Omnivore’s Dilemma; and supermarket owner, David Ball, who is creating a new market model for our family farmers. FRESH’s focus on these inspiring individuals and their initiatives around the US provides the audience with actionable solutions. FRESH is a call to action.

FRESH will be shown Wednesday, August 12th at Congregation Shearith Israel, 1180 University Drive, Atlanta, GA 30306 from 5:45-7:00. CSA members and non-members are welcome. Pass the word and join us for a great evening!

Tomato Killer

The Enemy -- Tomato Horn Worm

This is the evil tomato Horn Worm.  He camouflages himself on your tomato plant and gnaws his way through the stalks, just when plump green tomatoes have begun feed the fantasy of having so many tomatoes you might even have to give some away.  One morning you are lovingly watering your tomatoes, inspecting the blossoms, admiring the fruit, and sniffing the fragrant basil plants thriving in the same pot. Next day you come outside and the whole plant has keeled over...hacked to smithereens by something you'd swear has teeth.

But no, the culprit is not a squirrel, or a chipmunk or a deer. It's a green worm with horns that hides under the leaves of your plant, lays eggs and gets into the soil, so you've got to get rid of them, literally handpick them (UGH) out of the plant. The larvae blend in with the plant canopy, and therefore go unnoticed until most of the damage is done. Wasps are the horn worm's natural predator, but honestly, who would want to even attempt to catch and release a wasp. 

The caterpillar reaches the final maturity in 3-4 weeks, and is 3 1/2 to 4 inches when fully mature. Fully-grown larvae then drop off of the plants and burrow into the soil to pupate. During the summer months, moths will emerge from pupae in about 2 weeks. Moths emerge from the soil, mate, and then begin to deposit the eggs of the next generation on tomato plants. By early fall, the pupae will remain in the soil all winter and emerge as a moth the following spring.

The horn worm likes nightshade plants and will also attack eggplant, pepper and potatoes. This is one hungry and vicious garden predator.  Last Friday I bought two tomato plants to replace the ones my horn worm killed, and they were destroyed overnight before I even got them out of their peat pots!  Tomato lovers beware.

CSA Season

It's CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) season again! My CSA has a new farm provider, the Swansey family of Ranger, GA. Their organic family farm is about an hour north of Atlanta, and membership in the CSA will include a visit later this summer.

This is the 3rd season that Congregation Shearith Israel (VA Highlands) has had a CSA.  It's been a wonderful community building and social justice experience for all the members, who happily provide volunteer time in the administration and operation of the project.  In addition to healthy eating, recipe sharing, pot luck meals and the seasonal surprise of seeing what's in our weekly share, any leftover food from shares that are not picked up, are donated to a men's shelter in Candler Park.  It's a true win-win for everyone.

Shares for the season may still be available. You do not have to be a member of Shearith Israel to join this CSA, but it's nice to know that the synagogue considers its participation to be aligned with Jewish values such as eco-kashrut, stewardship of the land, healthy eating and a commitment to ethical and humane treatment of animals. In fact, the congregation is part of a CSA network called Tuv Ha'aretz (which in Hebrew means both "good for the land" and "the best of the land") that links Jewish communities forming CSA's.

This year we're getting fruit in our weekly shares, and the chance to special order eggs, home grown and farm-ground grits, plus grass fed meats. 

Read all about our farmer:

Riverview Farms is a certified organic family farm on 200 acres in the beautiful foothills of the Appalachians in Northwest Georgia. In the fertile bottomlands of the Coosawattee River west of Carters Lake, we gently cultivate certified organic vegetables, Berkshire pork, and grass-fed beef.

One of the oldest, and largest, certified organic farms in the state, our goal is to work with the environment to enliven the farm through the mutually supported functions of soil, grasses, and animals as we produce organic vegetables and meats. With detailed attention to soil quality, animal husbandry, grass production, and crop diversity, our methods surpass organic certification requirements.

We operate the largest traditional CSA in the state, have added a meat CSA in 2009, and market our Berkshire pork and grassfed beef at two farmers markets and through the best restaurants in Atlanta.

Believing that there are never enough tomatoes to go around, I still planted a couple of containers at home (trying some so-called heirlooms) just to be sure when early August rolls around. 

Some are planted with herbs, one is full of snow peas, and the rest are tomatoes and peppers.  When the snow peas are finished that one will be planted with Japanese eggplant.

Applications for this CSA are available online.  First pickup date at is Wednesday, May 6th at Congregation Shearith Israel, 1180 University Dr NE, Atlanta, GA 30306, (404) 873-1743.  More information at shearith.organic.googlepages.com

Digging the First Day of Spring

How cool is this.  There's our amazing First Lady, on the first day of spring, digging with a bunch of 5th graders from Bancroft Elementary School in Washington, DC.  They're preparing for the White House's vegetable garden, the first since Eleanor Roosevelt’s victory garden.

The school kids are experienced gardeners having managed a vegetable garden at their school for the past 7 years. 

It's going to be a big garden -- 1,100 square feet, and you'll be able to see it off of E Street. Most of the heavy weeding and maintenance will be done by the White House gardeners, but the school kids will have a role, and the Obamas say they'll be working on it too. 

The White House chefs are thrilled. According to the NY Times:

The Obamas will feed their love of Mexican food with cilantro, tomatilloes and hot peppers. Lettuces will include red romaine, green oak leaf, butterhead, red leaf and galactic. There will be spinach, chard, collards and black kale. For desserts, there will be a patch of berries. And herbs will include some more unusual varieties, like anise hyssop and Thai basil. A White House carpenter who is a beekeeper will tend two hives for honey.

Planting My Fall Crops

Enough of politics.  My soul is sick of it.  Time to play in the dirt.  This weekend I'm planting for Fall.

The tomatoes are done, though the Farmer's Markets are still selling fat and funky heirlooms.  I have some Chinese eggplants and peppers still coming in my tiny yard at home.   But the slanty light and the shortening days tell me it's time for cold crops.  Rainbow Swiss Chard, Cabbage, Collard Greens, Kale, carrots, lettuces and Brussels Sprouts are going into my containers and a little experimental patch of yard that I hope gets enough sun.

                                 

Has anybody out there had success planting leafy cold crops in half-barrel planters?  I know that the cabbages and collards will need room to sink roots and spread their leaves, but I'm hoping that the kale and lettuces will do OK in containers.

It is another wonder of the South that I can plant in August or September and enjoy the harvest in November, sometimes even December!  The rosemary winters over beautifully here and we can count on fresh parsley until Thanksgiving. 

The Tomato Moment

This, my friends, is the tomato moment. All the staking and watering and sucker pinching has come to this. Say the names with me:  Big Boy. Better Boy. Rutgers. Early Girl. Ramapo. Roma. Sungold. Celebrity. Lemon Boy. Brandywine.

I am the daughter of a woman whose idea of bliss is a sliced tomato sandwich on toast with mayonnaise.  Yet I confess, I did not eat uncooked tomatoes until I was an adult.  Now I am making up for the foolishness of my youth and finding as many reasons as possible to enjoy fresh vine ripe tomatoes.

This summer's best tomato moments have included a Sunday salad of yellow, red, cherry and green tomatoes, lightly dressed in olive oil and sprinkled with torn fresh basil leaves was a wonder. Then, in Richmond I had a cold soup of pureed tomatoes and watermelon, dressed a swirl of basil oil and sprinkled with feta cheese that was summer in a bowl.  I'm trying like mad to recreate the recipe. I may just have to write to the restaurant and beg.

The NY Times had a great piece about Jersey tomatoes last week. In part it was a reaction to the glorification of so-called heirloom tomatoes.  One grower in the story had this to say about heirlooms:

“Everyone was going gaga over them. My farmers were trying to grow them, and we’d walk out in the field and just see horticultural garbage,” said Mr. Rabin, a longtime agricultural extension agent with Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J. who works with about 800 growers around the state. “Every time it rained, they would crack open or turn into water bags. They burned in the sun or developed fungus you could taste,” he said. “It was painful to watch, and the yields were a nightmare.”

     My feeling about heirloom tomatoes is mixed. My friend Fran and I sashayed over to the Peachtree Road Farmer's Market at the Cathedral of St. Phillip the other weekend and were enchanted by the funny shaped and multi-colored heirloom varieties.  But whoa, they were selling for $6.00 a pound!  Fran bought one gigundo tomato which became the centerpiece of her dinner.  She said it was luscious, but I'm not sure she has recovered from the idea of a $6 tomato. I bought a half dozen green zebras, about $5 worth and thought they were great. But I don't think they're heirlooms, just a green tomato variety you don't see in the store.

Uncooked tomato sauce is how I celebrate the tomato moment.  What you want are 3-5 big vine ripened, plump tomatoes of any variety you like.  The more colors the better.  Rough chop into 1/2" pieces with a serrated knife and dump into a big bowl.  Leave on the skins, leave in the seeds.  Add 2-3 large cloves of raw minced garlic. DO NOT USE THE STUFF FROM THE JAR!  Use real cloves of garlic.  Add at least a 1/2 cup of really good olive oil.  Sprinkle with salt and many hearty twists of ground pepper. Add in some torn fresh basil leaves if you have them. No fresh basil?  No matter.  Now  cook up a pound of pasta -- any shape you like (whole wheat is actually a good choice for this) and drain.  While still hot, dump the pasta into the big bowl with the uncooked tomatoes and garlic.  Toss gently and serve immediately.

Eat slowly with plenty of parmesan cheese and a big glass of wine.  It does not get any better than this.

Down on the Farm

Meet my farmer, Neil Taylor of TaylOrganics.  He's been doing organic farming in Ellenville, GA for 14 years in a corner of Henry County just 35 minutes south of Metro Atlanta.  It was nothing but thick pine trees when he got there and cleared the land, but now it's become the suburbs and Neil's land is pretty much on the flight path of Hartsfield Jackson Airport. 

He's sad to see the suburbs encroaching, but he keeps on farming in the middle of subdivisions and nobody thinks he's a crazy hippie anymore.  They know he's a church-going, generous, principled, and incredibly hard working guy.  Neil retired early from the Air Force, settled down in Georgia and has raised 3 fantastic kids. He is a man who feels he's lucky to be able to farm the land, eat like a king and know that he has "enough."

As a member of a CSA, Community Supported Agriculture group, about 30 of us -- grownups, kids, babies and a couple of dogs -- went to visit our farmer and have a potluck lunch there. Neil showed us around, telling us that he's always believed in pesticide-free farming going back to his days growing up poor in Kentucky.  "We couldn't afford fertilizer or pesticides, so we were organic back before anybody cared about that."

Neil depends on us and we depend on him. That's how a CSA works.  He's signed up 145 full "shares" for this Spring/Summer season at $370 each. That means he's got money up front to pay his laborers and to cover his overhead.  I'm a half share holder, and I split my half share with a friend -- we alternate weeks.  For my $185 I'm getting the freshest, tastiest, healthiest local produce I've ever had in my life. 

In the last few weeks I've gotten Mr. "Whatever," my 15 year old,  jazzed about eating snap peas, beets, swiss chard and the most fantastic red carrots ever pulled from the ground.  He even came along yesterday on the trip to the farm...OK, I let him drive as an incentive.  Neil put my kid to work telling people where to park. Gabe took pictures of our lunch and the bounty of the farm.  When the rain started and most folks took cover inside, Mr. "Whatever" was enjoying the shower and pronouncing the arugula with blueberry vinaigrette "delicious" and was scooping up the gluten-free berry cobbler like it was going out of style.

Thanks Neil.  You made my day.

Reducing My Corn Footprint

Sheesh, you'd think I was living on a farm, the way I'm worrying about agriculture, but if you're wondering why that steak you used to buy for $4.95 a pound now costs $6.39 a pound, and why even chicken is more expensive, the answer is corn. And it's likely to get worse.

Corn has doubled in price. It's more than $6 a bushel. Worldwide demand for corn is up. Corn, mainly in the form of high fructose corn syrup, is in virtually every processed food we eat. As a grain it forms the main diet of pigs and cows and chickens. As a source of bio fuel, the pressure to produce ethynol from corn has driven prices up.  But weather is also a factor. A cold wet spring in the midwest has prevented farmers from getting their crop in.  May 10th is the outside optimal date for planting corn, and that date has passed.  Only 51% of the US corn crop has been planted. Late planting doesn't necessarily mean a poor crop yield, but it's out of kilter with the prime moment for corn pollenation at the peak of summer heat.  Things don't look great.

According to an NPR story, food processing giant H.J. Heinz is looking to breed a naturally sweeter tomato for the sole purpose of cutting down on the amount of corn sweetener used in ketchup, which accounts for 10% of the cost of the product. 

So now, after reading two books by Michael Pollan, The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, I'm trying to see how I can reduce my corn footprint.  That is, how can I cut down on, or completely cut out  high-fructose corn syrup, corn-based additives and feedlot food from my diet. Believe me, this is not just about being a yuppie locavore, or being a food snob.  It's about money.  I cannot afford to buy as much center-of-the-store food anymore.  I'm cutting down on ready made marinades and salad dressings, jarred tomato sauces and ready-made salsas.  As we head into summer, I am determined to build a diet around as many fresh, local choices as possible. And of course, I will continue to cook.

Even if you avoid fast-food, it's difficult to avoid corn.  When you analyze what you eat, you will be shocked to see how much of it is based on our out of whack corn economy. As Pollan says in his books,  Americans are pretty much walking corn chips:

Like other critics of industrial food, Pollan seizes on corn -- the most heavily subsidized and prolific U.S. crop -- as the example par excellence of a food system gone rancid. "There are some 45,000 items in the average American supermarket, and more than a quarter of them contain corn," he reports. Indeed, corn and its array of byproducts have so successfully colonized the U.S. diet -- and so dominate the diets of the animals consumed here -- that Americans have ripped the title of "the corn people" from Mexico, where corn was originally domesticated and remains a staple. Because of corn's rare carbon signature, Pollan writes, it's possible to discern from flesh or hair samples how much corn contributes to the formation of human bodies. "When you look at the isotope ratios, [U.S. residents] are corn chips with legs," a biologist tells him. -- Tom Philpott in Grist

Some days its easy to eat off the corn chain.  Wednesday night, for example, I picked up my 1/2 share at my local CSA, Tuv H'aretz.  I also had to bring in a dish for a vegetarian pot luck lunch at work.  So I made a soba noodle dish, and not a single ingredient was corn-based, though several were wheat and soy-based.  My dish had fresh bok choy, grated carrots, chopped scallions, onions and steamed chopped mustard greens, all from a farm about 30 minutes south of Atlanta. It was dressed with fresh lime and ginger, and pantry items that included canola oil and soy sauce.  It was mighty tasty. 

Some days you can go down low on the corn chain, but not off it entirely:  Thursday night I sauteed chicken thighs (feedlot food) with leftover commercially grown tomatoes and threw in the rest of my CSA haul to use up before going out of town for the weekend.  It was a delicious meal, and pretty local in origin, save for the chicken and tomatoes.

It's not enough to become carbon neutral...we can also be more corn neutral.  I'm trying.

In Which I Join a C.S.A.

Well, I've gone and joined another group, cuz I'm a just wanton group groupie. 

My groups:  I'm in group therapy.  I'm in a book group.  I'm in a Jewish Women's Study Group.  I'm in a Mussar Study Group.  I'm part of a group blog called Mid-Century Modern Moms.  I'm in a parent discussion group for 10th graders at my son's school.  I'm on the Limmud Atlanta + Southeast Steering Group.  And I used to be in a short story group.  But hey, I can quit anytime.

Except that now I'm a member of a C.S.A. -- Community Supported Agriculture.  My synagogue, Shearith Israel in Atlanta, launched a CSA last spring in a program called Tuv Ha'Aretz -- which translates as Good of the Land, and Good for the Land. Our supplier is an organic farmer named Neil Taylor of TaylOrganics, ("I grow for God") who brings us fresh organic pesticide-free veggies every week from now through September.  At the organizing meeting this week we met Neil and he brought along a boxful of what's growing on his farm right now:  garlic, kale, swiss chard, fancy lettuce, beets, carrots and baby cabbages.  Gorgeous stuff.

I asked if I could put in a request for fennel this summer.  "White or brown," Neil replied.  Who knew that fennel came in colors! I asked if there was any rhubarb coming when Neil described the organic strawberries he's supplying to Baccanalia, JCT Kitchen and other elite Atlanta restaurants.  "Rhubarb doesn't grow in the south," he said kindly.  Who knew?  "But if I come across some rhubarb I'll bring it for you."  What a guy.  I would marry him in a minute, but he's already married to Marcia. 

When you join a CSA you also pledge to volunteer several times a season at the weekly distribution. I haven't done this kind of thing since my hippie food coop days in college. You also get to visit the farm.  Our little group of veggie folk plans to share recipes and have some meals together.  Apparently last year's joke was the abundance of kohlrabi early in the season.  When's the last time you ate kohlrabi?  I wouldn't know what to do with kohlrabi except put them artfully in a bowl Martha Stewart style, but we'll have a newsletter so we can care and share.  Neil says the best part of a  head of broccoli are the tiny leaves and he promised to show us how to steam them. Who knew?

  Kohlrabi . . . recipes anyone?