It's been more than a month since my last post. Did you think I left for the weekend—and just didn't return?
We all know how crazy December is. Add in a couple of family birthdays, school parties (who thought it was a good idea to be room mom for both kids' classes?), as well as a little one with the flu—and it's easy to put everything else on the back burner. Plus, I'm now in the throes of my post-holiday sickness...an annual ritual of coughing, sore throat, and headache that I fend off until after Christmas every year. Yippee. Please pardon my muddled thoughts.
So, here we are, a month after the Carolina Farm Stewardship Sustainable Agriculture Conference, and as excited as I am to share with you insight into all of the amazing sessions and interesting growing strategies that I learned, I'm afraid I have some housekeeping to do first.
My desk.
There's a hazard to owning a home-based business. Everyone thinks that my work space is their play space. Kristen searches obsessively for chicken breeds, coop designs, and rescue pups on my computer. The last Google search on my iMac? “How to get your parents to let you have a sleepover.”
Seriously.
Michael plays Poptropica while I need to write. Peter just joined Facebook, so now when I want to check on my friends, I often end up posting as him—because he's left his account open.
Or he's online, searching for sailboats.
Here's the thing: we have a computer in the living room. With Internet access. Peter also has a laptop. With wireless.
It's not even the lack-of-access that bothers me. It's the amount of stuff that is left on my desk. I need a fairly clutter-free space when I try to write or work, otherwise I tend to feel mentally disheveled. It's not that I'm a neat freak (I know Peter is laughing out loud about that)--I just need some breathing room.
So, in an effort to reclaim my work space and my computer, I thought I'd share with you—in no particular order--what I discovered as I cleaned my desk:
Three paper towels.
Four plastic bags.
1 pair of horse earrings.
Essential Herbal Wisdom.
Encyclopedia of Herb Gardening.
A back scratcher—one of my favorite gifts, chosen with care by 5-year-old Michael at the school's Santa Shop.
My nieces' Christmas lists.
Washing tips for the kids' Christmas Pjs.
A coupon for Hanna Andersson.
The receipt for the kids' Christmas PJs. (What was I thinking?)
A file with documents about my parents' estate.
Tyler's Christmas list (which somehow printed in a 2-point font size. Who knows if he really got what he wanted?)
The CD of the kids' Christmas pictures, taken by the fabulously talented Jessie of Smilin' Down Photography. Isn't she great? (And patient. I'm not sure what I was thinking, bringing light sabers to the photo shoot, but Jessie rolled with it.)
To continue...
“Care and planting of your ginseng seeds and rootlets.” The most expensive seeds I have ever ordered. Please grow, seeds.
A box of snowman Christmas gift tags.
“Questions to ask when reading a book.” *
*Note: According to this list, there are 25 questions to ask when reading a book. Now, maybe I'm crazy, but if my kindergartner looked for every contraction, compound word, blend, antonym, and punctuation mark while he was reading The Time Warp Trio, I can assure you it would take us a full month to read the book. Plus, somehow, I can imagine it would kill his love of books. Maybe we could reduce the list to a few questions, like #24: “What was your favorite part of the book? Why?” But that's just my opinion.
Onward:
“Individual Summary—Universal Screening in Reading, 5K.”
Word cards.
Business card for Tradd Cotter, the mushroom guru from Mushroom Mountain. I promise, once my desk is clean, I am going to write about Tradd's workshop for growing mushrooms. He is a mushroom God.
Tyler's checking account bank statements. Trust me—if you're looking to begin a life of crime in 2011, don't pick Ty's account to hack. You'll find more money under the sofa cushions.
Sky Top Orchard brochure. In a fit of locavorism prior to Thanksgiving, I realized I needed to replenish our supply of local apples. My quest entailed an hour drive to North Carolina, where I stocked up on several gallons of apple cider and about six enormous bags of various, lovely North Carolina apples. After chatting with the owner about the pros and cons of heirloom apples, I pulled out my debit card to pay. Guess what? “Check or cash.” After spluttering apologies and asking where the nearest ATM might be (way down the mountain), that incredibly kind man handed me the brochure with the address for Sky Top, and just asked that I mail him a check when I got home. Then he helped me load all of my goodies into the van...in the freezing rain. Truly, there are good souls in the world. (And yes, I mailed the check the next morning.)
Back to the desk...
A letter about an organic gardening presentation I'm making on Monday.
An IRS filing statement that I need to take to Warptek, Peter's company. (Yes, it was done.)
An “All About Kindergarten” folder that I use to contain all of the many tools sent home by Mikey's teacher.
The menus from “Outstanding in the Field” and the “Hub City Farmer's Market Farm Dinner.”
Receipt for my excessive order of garlic.
Box Tops for Education.
My mom's obituary.
The business card from the guy who just rang the doorbell, wanting to clean our gutters. (No thank you.)
Instructions on growing mushrooms.
Oh my gosh, another receipt for garlic! Ack. (Well, at least, it's all planted.)
Uh oh. A rebate offer. Need to look at that one.
Hmmm. A homemade Valentine with a picture of Michael—but the signature says, “Love, Kristen.” Intriguing.
A seed order receipt.
Newsweek. From September 20.
Passionflower seeds. On a paper plate. (It was a seed saving endeavor.)
“Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Let Me Rent Braveheart.” A little background: Braveheart is a horse that was for lease at the stables where Kristen takes horseback riding lessons. Here's her list:
Convincing, isn't it? (We're not leasing Braveheart.)
“Welcome to a Great Year in Fourth Grade.” Check.
A stack of Garden Delights orders from last spring, along with last year's inventory spreadsheet, to determine what to grow in 2011.
Warm Crab Parmesan Dip, Raspberry Crisp, and Tomato Salsa recipes.
A receipt for Mikey's soccer program, which he didn't attend due to a broken arm. $65 well-spent.
School Year Calendar.
Checkbook.
iPhone case, which I never use—but should—since I shattered my first phone.
Yippee! A Barnes and Noble gift-card, which I received from their customer service department after spending one hour and 13 minutes on the phone with them, trying to get a Christmas shipment corrected.
My tattered Webster's Handy College Dictionary. I just like having it close, even if I haven't used it in years.
Michael's MAP scores.
A friend's phone number.
“A Very Merry Kidz Bop.”
At Blachard's Table. This is the cookbook that accompanies one of my favorite books, A Trip to the Beach, by Melinda and Richard Blanchard. If you're ever in a rut and dream of making a change, A Trip to the Beach is incredibly inspiring. FIVE STARS. (My own rating.)
A postcard from my in-laws. Bep and Peter (my Peter's mom and dad) know how to be retired—they're always traveling, visiting friends and family, or just exploring. I want to be like them when I grow up.
Barnes and Noble receipts.
Love notes from Mikey.
Seed catalogs. What a surprise.
Seed to Seed by Suzanne Ashworth. While not a beautiful gardening book, Seed to Seed is a wealth of information about—take a guess—starting seeds. Trust me—not all seeds grow under the same conditions. Light, dark, stratification, scarification, germination rates, heat requirements—it's all in here. It's a permanent fixture on my desk.
A reminder to renew my Garden Delights business license. That's kind of important.
The New York Times Book Review. Love it. December 26.
Five Webkinz tags.
A parking receipt from the CFSA conference.
Two extremely elaborate drawings of pirate ships, complete with cannons and guns. Can you guess who the artist is?
An expired ETV member card.
Eye drops.
A beautiful tulip tile from Turkey, the hotly contested Christmas present at our book club Christmas exchange. It was stolen twice to end up in my possession, and it will be hung prominently in our new kitchen--whenever the kitchen is actually done. (Thank you, Kathy!)
A piece of paper with the number “8”--which was my draw in the Christmas gift exchange.
An angel ornament. Shoot. I knew I'd find something else after the Christmas decorations were put away.
A Lichtenfelt Nursery gift card! Yippee!
Paintbrushes, from my fabulous attempt at making sugared pansies. I think those will go to the kids' art supplies.
A seashell.
A keychain. The key chain isn't much to look at, but when you hold it up to the light and look through the viewfinder, there is a tiny picture of my dad mid-golf swing.
My camera. My lovely, fabulous new camera. I WILL learn how to do more with it than shoot on automatic.
My iPhone.
Dust. Lots of it.
So, there you have it. My desk is now (somewhat) clean, my mental state is a bit more organized...and when you find that your desk is messy, you can feel so much better about yourself since you now know what constitutes a true mess.
Sadly, as I tackled this project, I've realized that the majority of things on my desk were, actually, my things.
Yeesh.
Now, I have no excuse...except that I'm sick...for not writing.
Thanks for sticking with me as I cleaned my desk. Next time, I promise—I'll try to write something worth reading.
Years ago, when our oldest son, Tyler, was nine years old, we invited one of his neighborhood friends to join us on our annual apple orchard outing. Will is two years younger than Ty, and it just breaks my heart when I see this tall, muscular GUY next door shooting baskets. He's the youngest of Ty's neighborhood gang and always fought to keep up with the older boys. Soon he, too, will be off to college.
Sorry. A sentimental Mom-moment distracted me.
Anyway, we were out among the trees, and Peter picked a few apples. He handed one to each boy, then took a bite of his.
Will looked appalled.
“You can't do that,” he said, horrified.
“Don't worry, honey, we'll pay for everything when we get back.” What an honest boy, I thought.
“No,” he said, eyes wide. “You can't eat that.”
“Why not?”
Will looked at me like I was from another planet.
“It's not from Publix.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It's fall, and I'm thinking about apples. And remembering Will's innocence.
I'm also hoping that our kids always know the origins of their food, whether or not they actually eat it. (That would be asking too much, with the exception of apples. Oh, and strawberries.)
With the arrival of fall, I know I'm not alone in my apple preoccupation. My Facebook page is filled with pictures of friends' families hunting Granny Smiths, Golden Delicious, Jonagolds.
This year, we branched out and tried a different orchard, one in North Carolina. Normally, we visit a local orchard that's ten minues from our house—but truthfully, we've always gone for the experience rather than the apples. The apples at our local orchard are tasteless, even a little mealy. This year, I wanted a good variety of flavorful apples, even if it meant forsaking our (very) local orchard.
I'm glad we did.
Sky Top Orchard is exactly that—a lush, rolling, mountain-top orchard with stunning views. Located in Flat Rock, North Carolina, we visited early in the season, but the parking area was packed. With 40 acres to roam, though, the only places we really bumped into other visitors (besides the parking lot) was in the apple cider donut line.
Can you believe that I never tasted an apple cider donut before this fall? It's was pure sugar and grease and deliciousness. Heaven.
I'm not an apple expert. I've gone apple picking every year for probably the past 18 years...and I still don't remember which varieties are tart (besides Granny Smith), which are good for cooking, which are best fresh. During our apple hunting, I was certain Peter searched for a variety of apple that didn't exist (“Jonathan” versus “Jonagold”—the one I was familiar with). I started to tell him in my know-it-all wife voice that his search was futile...until we found his variety already pre-picked.
I just hate when he's right.
After a lovely family outing, I decided it was time to increase my knowledge of apple varieties. I started doing some research and found a great article on Saveur. It's my go-to guide now.
Do we honestly think I stopped there?
I'm now completely smitten with heirloom apples.
(Poor Peter, I haven't told him about my newest obsession. He'll be reading it here.)
Do you know about the Ark of Taste? Here's a quote from Slow Food's website:
“The Ark is an international catalog of foods that are threatened by industrial standardization, the regulations of large-scale distribution and environmental damage. In an effort to cultivate consumer demand—key to agricultural conservation—only the best tasting endangered foods make it onto the Ark.
“Since 1996, more than 800 products from over 50 countries have been added to the international Ark of Taste. The US Ark of Taste profiles over 200 rare regional foods, and is a tool that helps farmers, ranchers, fishers, chefs, retail grocers, educators and consumers celebrate our country's diverse biological, cultural and culinary heritage.”
The apple is an American icon. However, of the approximate 14,000 varieties that evolved from the seeds brought into North America by English settlers, today only 11 varieties comprise 90 percent of all apples consumed in the U.S. Those 11 varieties that dominate the produce aisles are grown in large commercial orchards, easily packed and shipped to far away locales. The perfect, glossy globes attract consumers—but flavor is sacrificed for shipablility and presentation.
One of the goals of Slow Food is to make consumers aware of varieties that are dying out due to mass production. It's Economics 101. By experiencing the unique, richer flavor of heirloom varieties, consumers will begin requesting heirlooms, and farmers will find a market to continue producing tasty, regional fruits. Sounds simplistic, doesn't it?
Of course, it's a much larger challenge.
So, in my own small effort to support heirloom varieties, I'm researching nurseries and varieties and figuring out how to tell Peter that we need a small orchard near the river.
I'm sure he'll be delighted. Stay tuned...
Until then, I'm taking an inventory of the apples waiting in the refrigerator. Not only did we bring home dozens of apples from our family's Sky Top outing, Michael and I also brought home apples from his kindergarten field trip.
It was a little sad. The kids picked apples—out of bins. So now, there's a generation of kids who think apples come from bins on farms. Hmm. Somehow, I don't think that was the point of the field trip.
Still, we are—literally—bursting with apples.
Fortunately, my family likes apples. They especially like apple desserts. Rather than my standard apple pie, I decided to try something new. I found a recipe on the blog, Orangette, for an excellent “Apple Tart Cake.” The author of the blog, Molly Wizenberg, stated that the tart is even better the second day. She's right. If you've never visited Orangette, please do. You'll be delighted.
So, before I get back to researching which heirloom apple trees would best fit my family's needs—some for eating fresh, some for cooking—I'm heading to the kitchen to make another Apple Tart Cake. You really want to try this recipe—it's easy, delicious, uses pantry staples, and has a rustic appeal. (My cake is not as pretty as the one on the Orangette blog, but it was tasty.)
You can use any variety of good, tart apples. What are your favorite varieties for cooking or fresh eating? I'd love to know.
So, head to the kitchen, pull out those apples from your orchard visit, and start peeling. You'll be so glad you did.
Apple Tart Cake Adapted from Orangette, originally posted January 19, 2009
Ingredients: 1 cup granulated sugar 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 tsp. baking powder 5 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter, cut into a few pieces 1 tsp. vanilla extract 1 large egg, lightly beaten 3 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and sliced very thinly
For topping: 3 Tbsp. granulated sugar 3 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly 1 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 large egg
Preheat oven to 350°. Butter and flour a 9-inch springform pan.
Combine the sugar, flour, and baking powder in a bowl. (I used my KitchenAid mixer, which worked fine, but the original recipe calls for use of a food processor.) Add the butter. Mix until no large lumps remain. Add the vanilla and the egg. Blend well. Mixture will be crumbly. Dump mixture into the prepared springform pan, using your fingers to gently press it along the bottom of the pan. If the dough sticks to your fingers, like it did with mine, just put a tad of flour on your fingertips. Make a slight, gentle, upward curve at the edges to form a low rim. Arrange the apple slices over the base in a tight circular pattern. Really overlap them. I didn't overlap the apples the first time I made it for fear they wouldn't cook well. My mistake. Place the pan on the middle rack in the oven, and bake for 45 minutes.
While the cake/tart is baking, prepare the topping. Combine the ingredients in a small bowl, and whisk to blend well. After the cake has baked for 45 minutes, remove it from the oven, and pour the topping evenly over it. Bake for another 25 minutes or so, until the topping looks set. Transfer the pan to a wire rack, and cool for 20 minutes. Then run a thin knife around the edge to release any areas that may have stuck, and remove the sides of the pan. Cool completely before serving.
