Green Holiday: Birthday

This year for my birthday I wanted an autumn birthday... something with pumpkins, a hay maze and something involving a wheelbarrow. I found a great autumn festival at Carter Mountain Orchard in Charlottesville but it was a bit of a drive for the five of us, so my girlfriend found a wonderful little pumpkin farm in Richmond which allowed us to spend the night in a hotel, swim with Aoife and enjoy my favorite grocery store in Richmond: Whole Foods!

I made up a batch of my grandmother's 14-karat cake in little cupcake form with all organic goodness and lots of love. We carpooled up to the city and enjoyed supporting the local farms by choosing a pick-your-own field (which I'm a huge fan of!) After picking at least 10 pounds of pumpkin, enjoying the great picks at Whole Foods and driving home, I was surprised with a birthday party with friends the weekend I returned home!

Joshua had ordered a cake that resembled my gift from him: a new digital SLR camera, with telescope and macro lenses and Photoshop package. I love supporting local businesses and my friend Beth made a really great cake with a mini-fondant representation of me on top.

I felt as though my reputation as being a greenie has finally permeated all areas of my life, because for my birthday I received fair-trade pottery and fair-labor jewelery and a live autumn plant!

Pick Your Own: Blueberries

It almost seems natural now, this is the fifth pick-your-own weekend I've shared with my family and it just seems to be a very normal way to bring in our relaxing Saturday morning. We wake up, brew a little organic direct-trade (or free trade if we run low of the good stuff) coffee, serve up a little fruit, pack up the sweetheart, grab our reused plastic containers and drive out to the farm. This last weekend was open season for blueberries so we went to Pungo Blueberries who we found on PickYourOwn.org and happened to have beautiful bushes ripe for the picking. When we drove up there were already about a dozen people in the front fields and there was an attendant directing traffic (to me, never a good sign... I like quiet farms and empty parking lots. Makes me feel like I found it on my own and I'm the only person who knows about it. But I do acknowledge that empty parking lots don't keep farms open, so I'm glad I wasn't alone). I was nervous that the berry bushes would already be picked over but when we got all saddled up and over to the grove, we were really surprised how easy the picking was.The berry farm is only open four days a week and since the farm is open on both Fridays and Saturdays, the attendant was rather surprised we still made out with five pounds. We actually left earlier than expected (after only about forty minutes), Aoife had been woken from her nap to go out to help us pick and well, she wasn't happy about it.

The grass between the lanes was freshly mowed and the dew was still on the leaves when we went out to pick. I was initially a little concerned about the bushes, because I was finding absolutely no fauna. Read here: no bugs. None. Not even little, tiny, I-missed-the-pesticide-plane bugs. We eventually started to see dragonflies and beetles, which allayed my fears about the amount of herbicides and such that were being used, but I still washed our produce very thoroughly.
The plants had perfectly ripe blue-black toned blueberries, red, pink and green as well, indicative of future growth into the picking season. I appreciate coming early in the season and having first pick. The bugs and birds haven't discovered the ripe and rotted fruit on the ground and the bushes aren't beaten and fields aren't trodden bare from crowds. There's something terribly amazing about a pick your own produce experience. For Joshua and I, as urban homesteaders, connecting even on this basic level with our food helps me to feel like we are doing a small step in the right direction.

Instead of my food being picked (usually unripe, so it arrives ripe--or worse yet, picked ripe and then sprayed with a preservative to help it to maintain its ripe state), boxed, sent to a processing location, unboxed, sorted, packaged, labelled, reboxed, put on a truck, put on a plane, put on a semi, dropped at a distribution location, put on a truck, dropped at a warehouse, put on a produce truck, brought to a store, placed on a display in a stale grocery store under fluorescent lights, waiting until it starts to get bad so they put it on "manager special" status and then thrown in a plastic bag and brought home in a car and shoved to the back of the fridge...

Instead of all that, I can take my family to a farm, pick it myself, laugh with my husband as we listen to ornery old female sisters relate stories of their youth in Sandbridge, teach my daughter about fresh fruit and eating in season and I can place my fresh picked, ripe fruit in reused containers, paying below market cost and enjoying that day the fruits of my labor (no pun intended).

Pick Your Own: Strawberries

The first weekend in May I went strawberry picking with the family. My gardening meet-up group sends out great reminders at the beginning of the peak season for picking produce utilizing local farms she finds on PickYourOwn.org, which is how we found Flanagan Farm in Pungo. Flanagan's chief crop is strawberries and after picking in their fields it is easy to see why they are third generation strawberry farmers. Flanagan's farm is off the main drive in Pungo, which afforded us a really quality interview with the farm, away from crowds, traffic and businesses. The rows were dry and well maintained and the staff were friendly and personable.

Pungo is renown for their Strawberry Festival that they host every year which draws an amazingly large crowd. Of course, the main event happens during the peak of strawberry maturation, when the fields have already had a majority of their fruit developed. We didn't attend the festival since we were already swimming in berry goodness by the time of the main event.

When Joshua and I went picking up the rows of strawberries there were still blossoms on the plants, there were no bugs and it was still cool outside, offering us a really wonderful first-time experience. In what seemed like no time at all, we had already picked 17.5 pounds of strawberries. Joshua kept finding "the perfect strawberry" and, well, he had 9 pounds of berry in his box to prove it.

What did we do with it all? Well, I hadn't prepared our house to receive all of our very ripe produce, so we froze some of it, we made some of it into buttermilk and mint smoothies and ate a lot of it with cream, but we also tried to get our friends interested in the local farm offerings by dropping off bowls full of berries to our neighbors.

As much as we loved the PYO scene, our main reason for driving into the country to pick something that was available at my local market was for the sake of my daughter. We have decided together one of the best things we can teach Aoife at her young age is where food grows. It doesn't grow in a package on a shelf in the grocery store. She needs to see how food is grown, harvested and how superior the taste and quality is when you are close to the source. Aoife has been reared exclusively on breast milk and strawberries are her first taste of "mommy" food.

Turns out, she loved it as much as we did!

Patio Garden

It's almost time to start planting. This weekend I'll start turning my dilapidated deck space into my garden. This year will be a little different since we moved during the winter and our new apartment is completely westward-facing. (Read here: only afternoon/evening sun... almost entirely useless for growing vegetables). I have not yet begun researching plants that will be more accommodating to part-sun and shade since I really just wanted to plant cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, beans; all of which are sun-lovers. I have half a mind to plant them in my studio on top of my architect's desk, which would ensure that no pests reach my plants but would also inhibit pollination of the fruit later which would likely pose a problem, at least for my tomatoes.

My rosemary, chives and oregano are already back from last year and are excited about this new season. Our new apartment is on the base floor and is completely sheltered from the rain which also poses an issue for growing. Rosemary is from the arid mountainous terrain of Italy and does well in dry soil but chives and oregano do not. I've started running outside when it rains and pushing my little window boxes into the rainfall so they may get some of the free nutrients but my dipledenia and hibiscus from last year aren't even budging.

This year, Joshua and I have talked about planting lettuce and scallions, both of which would go really well in the large pots that are currently hosting my dead (am I already pronouncing that?) dipledenia and hibiscus plants. My mom may be journeying this way next week and perhaps dirt digging will be a quality mother-daughter activity. Last year my mother planted my garden alone. I was nine-months' expecting and we were biding our time until Aoife came, so I kept her company while she planted all my flowers and herbs.

I won't lie: I cannot successfully grow anything from seed. I buy seedlings and small plants because my green thumb was amputated at a young age: I believe in kindergarten I grew marigolds and that may have been my last successful venture.

I am undecided from where I will purchase my plants this year. Traditionally, I buy them from the McDonald Garden Center, but this year I was thinking about purchasing from something a little more "grassroots". Our local community college has a horticulture club that is sponsoring a plant sale, including a nice list of herbs and vegetables, all of which seem to be well researched for hardiness and resistance to disease. The other location is my local farmer's market: Five Points Community Farm Market which is sponsoring the sale of starter plants. Last weekend while in Washington D.C I went to one of my favorite farmer's markets: The Eastern Market at Capitol Hill. The purple Thai basil and lamb's ear sage they were offering made me wish I lived closer!

I'll post before and after pictures of my deck so you can see how I'm transforming the space into something edible, enjoyable and sustainable. In the meanwhile, I'll start resarching a type of tomato that grows in the dark in dry soil...

SOLE Food

No, I didn't spell that wrong. I meant SOLE food: Sustainable-Organic-Local-Ethical.

I have started really jumping into the green food movement. Joshua and I routinely shopped at the local food market and though we have been making a pull away from processed foods for awhile and try primarily to eat whole food sources, I was not making a large distinction as the origin of my food.

Across the street from our previous residence was an organic foods market that offered a really great selection of items both produce and packaged, but I did not capitalize on it since I was buying cheaper items at my local grocer. However, I picked up a book recently I bought for my pregnancy and was instantly compelled by the statistics it offered on the differences between conventional and organic foods. First, let me say that some conventional farmers utilize organic practices but have not invested for the organic conversion and as such these statistics are not hard and fast.

The buzz about eating food locally has even hit the White House, as this week the First Lady begun planting a 1,100 sq ft garden, to help her daughters learn about the importance of eating healthy, fresh and emphasizing locally grown produce.

Saturday, Joshua and I found a great new farmer's market that spring-boarded my research and understanding of SOLE food. I landed a copy of edible Chesapeake, a quarterly magazine that focuses on local food in its season. This concept in itself has been hitting me hard lately. I went to the grocery store last week and in my cart as I was checking out I noticed a couple of things: grapes, pineapple, watermelon, bananas and avocados. I suppose this would not be an issue if it were July and I lived in Central America, but as it stands, these items travelled a long way to end up in my cart Saturday afternoon. The imported grapes are definitely on the worst conventional foods list, aptly named the "Dirty Dozen" as they are the twelve most pesticide-harboring fruits and vegetables. When I visit my parents in Waikiki this October, I'll make sure to load up on tons of fresh pineapple and bananas, as they will be there in abundance and I know I can wait a couple of more months for fresh watermelon at my farmer's market. Avocados will definitely be put on my cereal when I get to Florida next month as my mother in law has recently sparked a new affinity for them. I need to start eating produce in its season.

A girlfriend of mine recently also started me on the ethics of eating meat. I used to think PETA was just a little off-kilter ranting about (what I thought to be) isolated events of harm to animals. Research is pouring in about the wide scale effects of slaughterhouses and factory farms--its detriment to the environment, economy, our health and the welfare of the animals who are living there. An article was recently written on the Muslim butchering method called halal:

In order for meat (except pork, which Muslims don’t eat) to be halal, which
means lawful, a Muslim has to say a blessing, position the animal facing
toward Mecca, and slaughter it with a swift cut across the throat with a
very sharp steel knife. This centuries-old method of slaughter, similar in
many ways to kosher slaughter, is meant to incur the least pain possible
while allowing the carcass to be completely drained of blood... halal rules
include several provisions for minimizing the animal’s stress prior to
slaughter, including ensuring it has been normally fed and watered, and that
it is in good health, and prohibiting any animal from seeing another animal
being slaughtered. And if they have traveled, they are required to be well
rested—at least overnight—before slaughter, according to Egyptian-born Omar
Wali, owner of American Halal Meat in Springfield, Virginia.

Reading these articles really makes me reconsider some of my food choices and
makes me want to take a more conscious approach toward how I consume.