June 24, 2016 Update

THIS WEEK’S HARVEST (June 24, from 2-6 pm):

Chicoree_frisee
Frisee Endive

Arugula $2.50/bag
*Beets $2.50/bunch
Blueberries (limited quantity) $2.50/half pint
Broccoli $3.00/bunch
Broccoli Greens $2.50/bunch
*Carrots $2.50/bunch
Collard Greens $2.50/bunch
*Cucumbers $2.00/lb
Eggs $3.00/half dozen
Garlic Scapes $2.00/bunch
*Frisee Endive $2.50/head
*Italiko Rosso (Chicory Greens) $2.50/bunch
Kale (assorted varieties) $2.50/bunch
Kale Mix $2.50/bag
Lettuce $2.00/head
Salad mix $2.50/bag
Spring Onions $1.00/each
Sugar Snap Peas $2.50/pint
*Summer Squash $1.50/lb
Swiss Chard $2.50/bunch

Herbs $1.50/bunch (may include *basil, *cilantro, sage, oregano, thyme, lavender, mint, chives, etc.)
Raw Honey from the bees on the property $14 for a 12 oz. jar
Flower Bouquets – $5.00/small $10.00/large

*NEW ARRIVALS THIS WEEK

Lingering Goodness

Cichorium_endiva
Chicory Greens

These past two weeks have been very busy. I was not able to spend time at the farm on the weekend, which meant that I was coming to work in the evenings after my other job. Spending the evening on the farm feels special. As the sun retreats, it feels as though the earth is getting ready to prepare for the cool and the dark time of the cycle. It almost feels like it is embracing and taking in all the crops, the millions of creatures, and cradling them to a restful state. I can sense my own mood being that of quiet reflection, rather than the energized and busy mood I feel in the early mornings. The birds seem to be chirping louder, before the total silence of the night and the bees are seen leaving the flowers and heading to the hives. I am always alone at the farm in the evenings, and the quiet acknowledgement of all of the plants of my presence and my appreciation of theirs feels like a sweet secret. This feeling of a quiet turning in lingers with me as I get into bed.

I have therefore been thinking about the idea of ‘lingering’ – feelings that linger, tastes that linger, sensations that linger. And one of the tastes that I find most interesting is a bitter taste, that lingers, but only for ever so short a moment (just to request your acknowledgment of it) and then, is gone. That surprise, I find special. This week, I will have a couple greens that will do that for you – the Frisee and the Italiko Rosso. They both belong to the Chicorium genus, with a botanical distinction, in that the chicories form a head, while endives are low growing, with curly leaves. The Frisee, is therefore an Endive, and the Belgian Endive is a chicory – despite its name.

Both these will be laced with a taste of an icy-sweet bitterness, which serves really well with contrasting sweet, savory and salty flavors. You can eat them raw or cooked – the outer leaves tend to be more bitter than the hearts.
I hope that you get to try them this week.

your farmer,
Kripa

Recipes

ROASTED BEET, FRISEE SALAD WITH MISO-SESAME DRESSING

LYONAISE- THE CLASSIC FRENCH SALAD

FRISEE AND APPLE SALAD WITH HERB CRUSTED GOAT CHEESE MEDALLIONS

 

A Little Something Else

[under the evening moon]

By Kobayashi Issa

Translated by Robert Haas

 

Under the evening moon

the snail

is stripped to the waist.

 


 

The World in the Evening

 

By Rachel Sherwood

 

As this suburban summer wanders toward dark

cats watch from their driveways — they are bored

and await miracles. The houses show, through windows

flashes of knife and fork, the blue light

of televisions, inconsequential fights

between wife and husband in the guest bathroom

 

voices sound like echoes in these streets

the chattering of awful boys as they plot

behind the juniper and ivy, miniature guerillas

that mimic the ancient news of the world

and shout threats, piped high across mock fences

to girls riding by in the last pieces of light

 

the color of the sky makes brilliant reflection

in the water and oil along the curb

deepened aqua and the sharp pure rose of the clouds

there is no sun or moon, few stars wheel

above the domestic scene — this half-lit world

still, quiet calming the dogs worried by distant alarms

 

there — a woman in a window washes a glass

a man across the street laughs through an open door

utterly alien, alone. There is a time, seconds between

the last light and the dark stretch ahead, when color

is lost — the girl on her swing becomes a swift

apparition, black and white flowing suddenly into night.