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Suzie's Farm CSA Members
Contact Suzie's Farm
Phone: 619.662.1780
CSA: csa@suziesfarm.com
Tours: tours@suziesfarm.com
Chefs: chef@suziesfarm.com
Media: katie@suziesfarm.com
General: info@suziesfarm.com
For scheduled farm tours,
our Kiki Town address is:
1856 Saturn Boulevard
San Diego CA 92154
Get Directions
Restaurants & Chefs
Did you know Suzie’s Farm delivers in San Diego five days a week? Not only that, several acres of our farm in San Diego’s Border State Park is dedicated to custom growing for the specific needs (and imagination) of our local chefs. Can you say boutique and convenience all in one breath? You don’t have to. Just say Suzie’s Farm. Visit our Chef's Page to view our delivery schedule and learn more about our partnership with restaurants.
Recipes
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Most recent entries
- Cooking With the CSA: Kale and Fennel
- Suzie’s CSA Box Contents, Jan 23-29
- It’s Good To Be Home
- Suzie’s CSA Box Contents, Jan 16-22
- Cooking With the CSA: Broccoli and Fennel
- Touring Times
- Cooking With the CSA: Chard and Cabbage
- Suzie’s Farm CSA Box Contents, January 9th-January 15th
- Winter Report
- Cooking With the CSA: Fennel, Kale and Carrots
- Tying Up Loose Ends
- Mowing Time
- Suzie’s Farm CSA Box Contents, Dec 5-11
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Kale and Potato Gratin
makes 6-8 servings
1 1/2 pounds thin-skinned boiling potatoes such as red potatoes
1 bunch kale
1/4 cup olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons coarse salt
1 teaspoon pepper
1/3 cup bread crumbs
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese (optional) OR 3 tablespoons olive oil and 1 tablespoon minced fresh herbs, such as thyme or sage
Preheat oven to 350° F.
Get a pot of water boiling large enough to accommodate the potatoes. Also prepare an ice bath.
Meanwhile, slice the potatoes 1/4-inch-thick. Set aside. Remove and discard the spines from the kale then chop the remaining leaves in 1/2-inch-thick ribbons by stacking the leaves and slicing in the direction of the veins. This doesn’t need to be exact, as long as you end up with a pile of roughly 1/2-inch-thick shreds of kale.
When the water is boiling, add a dash of salt and gently drop in the potatoes, cooking for about 2 to 3 minutes, until tender, but not cooked through. Drain and plunge into the ice bath. Drain again and dump onto a dish towel and blot.
In a large bowl, combine the olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper. Add the kale and rub the olive oil mixture aggressively into the leaves. Layer the kale and potatoes alternately with a sprinkling of bread crumbs and Parmesan in a 9"x12” rectangular casserole or glass or ceramic baking dish.
Vegan adaptation: If you want to leave out the Parmesan, double the bread crumbs to 2/3 cup. Rub the extra olive oil and the minced herbs into the breadcrumbs with your fingers until they are the texture of wet sand. Proceed as directed above, layering the bread crumbs between the potatoes and kale.
Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove foil and bake another 15 minutes, until top is crispy.
(from TheKitchn, image by Sara Kate Gillingham-Ryan)
Fresh Fennel Salad
The fixings:
One fennel bulb
Some parsley
A chunk of hard cheese like manchego, asiago, or parmesan
Lemon
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
The work:
Cut the leaves/fronds off the fennel. You want the white bulb.
Cut off the bottom end too, and then cut the fennel into smallish chunks
Cut up the parsley
Cut up the hard cheese into shards
Mix all that together with salt pepper, and olive oil
Squeeze lemon on top
If you want the vegan option, you can replace the hard cheese with salted cashews (or both, knock yourself out!). Very good. Eat fresh if possible, the cheese and the cashews get soft in the lemon over time.
(from OUR kitchen!)
Brassicas • Kale • Stalk Vegetables • Fennel • (0) Comments • Permalink
Suzie’s CSA Box Contents
Broccoli
Napa Cabbage
Cauliflower Romanesco
Carrots
Arugula
Fennel
Fava Beans
Kale
Chard
Radicchio
Chamomile Dried Tea
Pea Shoots
Suzie’s CSA Small Box Contents
Broccoli
Napa Cabbage
Chard
Parsley
Fennel
Carrots
Arugula
Kale
Chamomile Dried Tea
Suzie’s Good Farm Box Contents
Broccoli
Kale
Fennel
Carrots
Cone Cabbage
Tangerines (Stehly Organic Farms)
Avocados (Stehly Organic Farms)
Oranges Navel (Stehly Organic Farms)
Items subject to change due to quality and availability.
Not yet a member? Join our CSA! Learn about our individually sold Good Farm Boxes and Farm Raiser Program.
It’s been a long time since I’ve parked in my spot. Do you remember it? In the most southwest corner of Kiki Town, under the squat palm tree, next to the bee hives.
I’m having a hard time settling in. My mind quakes and reverberates over the last month. Since 12/21 I’ve been home 12 days. A month ago I was on a hillside in Santa Barbara, enjoying the Winter Solstice Sun’s rays weak against my sunscreen-free cheeks. I was a-top a ridge, overlooking a small organic farm fat with fava beans.. In the distance the Pacific Ocean glided miles away from me. The sky and the sun mirrored the same pale, grey-blue. Winter Solstice. I felt my heart shrinking in the short daylight hours. My night hours bled darkness.
Winter Solstice.
No one is parked in my space. It’s late afternoon on Sunday. Most of the crew has gone home. A breeze blossoms in the air. Cirrus and altostratus clouds hang low and swishy in the sky. Where is my promised 100% chance of rain? I’m back, to see the farm.
It’s quiet today. I can hear the bees, bombinating with industry and activity. They surprise me. I had guessed less activity after so many brisk and windy days.
My life has been on hold since the holidays. It is ridiculous to even think of them anymore. I see people I haven’t seen and ask them how their Christmas was and wish them Happy New Year. It’s only January 22 - the lunar New Year in fact - but people seem so far past the holidays.We are closer to mid-winter - Imbolc - than we are to the Winter Solstice. All of THAT is done. I don’t know where I am.
I exhale mightily.What can I define? Here I am. Kiki Town. In the company of 21 hives: 3-3 risers, 2-1 risers, 5-2 risers. Twenty-one boxes with an average of 60,000 bees per box equals a lot of bees. Bill sent me a text a few weeks ago - he was coming to clean up the hives and drop off some honey. I don’t know if we got the honey but the empty hives are gone and the area looks clean. Some water from yesterday’s rain reflects in the 5-gallon construction-orange lids which protect and distance the hive platforms from the soil and weeds.
I think about when I used to sit here, when the hives were weak and failing. I would sit inches from the hives, close my eyes and feel myself strengthen in their proximity.
Then Bill came along with a bee suit and six open hives, and told me all the ways a bee could sting me. Just like that I got afraid. Or respectful. I can’t decide which.
I turn to Calamity. I can feel her impatience. She stands. She looks. She waits. We look at each other and in the moment she has made eye-contact, she turns to the plowed field and regurgitates the grossly chewed pieces of rawhide the girls gave her before they left for the movie with Robin. Uh-uh. She ain’t eating those no more and I tell her as much. Clearly dems ain’t good for her belly. She doesn’t have to eat those any more. OK. Let’s get away from that.
I sit, unmoving, in the thriving chrysanthemums, still soft and green and low to the ground. A fine Spring carpet. I look down at my black pants. A bee rests on my thigh. I remember rule #3 Bees don’t like dark colors. The bee is checking me out. Bear or no? Why am I so afraid now? When I used to love to sit beside them? I’ve been stung before. It hurt but didn’t require an Emergency Room visit. I can say until the sun burns out, that a bee sting isn’t a big deal, but self-preservation is stronger. I realize; I’m not bullet-proof. I don’t want to get hurt.
Planted 1.5 Red Pac Choi with Alyssum - where was I? Was I back from Nogales? Was I still, waiting, in the ICU?
1.5 - Red Butter Lettuce
12.15 - Savoy Cabbage - 12.15!
12.8 - Lettuce - Party! With an exclamation point like the Jalapenos! planted in the northwest corner six months ago.
12.7 - Broccoli, Napa Cabbage, Red Cabbage, Graffiti Broccoli
11.30 - Butter Lettuce and Red Giant, Famosa Cabbage
How could all of these plants just continue to grow, quietly, patiently, diligently while all the rest of life and death has gone on? Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’s - even Martin Luther King, Jr. Day has passed and I’m sitting on top of the Lunar New Year. And these plants, prospered mightily and grew tall while I busied myself with other matters. Graffiti and Happy Rich Broccoli, Red Bor Kale - all of this beautiful life preparing to give life.
After spending 16 days in the ICU, my uncle’s lungs began to hemmorage Thursday, January 12, 2012. He died Friday, January 13, 2012. I drove to Nogales with the girls on Sunday. January 15. He was buried Monday, January 16. It had been my intention to stay in Nogales as long as my family needed me - at least until Thursday. But when I observed my Aunt busily cleaning out her freezer on Tuesday, January 17 I realized she was ready to get her life back. With nothing more to do, I realized I was ready to get my life back too.
Veronica Cauliflower - harvesting now, transplanted 11.9. The fava beans came finally, though covered in velvety aphids, black as their center blossom. I see no lady bugs here which is really too bad. Loosest slots in town over here.
I crush some aphids, their yellow insides stain my nail beds. I laugh at myself, my intention and our 200 foot rows. Is this the best use of my time? On this day, with this sky, this quiet, this breeze I feel I should do nothing else. But I haven’t been here in over a week. I must do more than squeeze aphids like zits. Maybe tomorrow’s Monday meeting can happen out here. There are at least six people who sit in on that meeting. Six sets of hands could make some progess against the aphids. Let’s get some work done while we get some work done.
The strawberries are still mostly white. The fruit polka dots a pretty pattern across the field. The plants are sparse in the Albion section and bushy in the Camarosa section. The Albions - typically firm - feel like chewing into gum. They are a far way from being sweet and can only be considered tart and gritty with seeds.
Ellie has staked the “Save For Drying” rows. Robin brought some home and used it green in a pasta sauce. The season is almost upon us. Garlic.
The artichokes are now clearly recognizable. Grey and fleshy and serrated. The small spines on the end of their leaves reminds me of nettles. They swirl like streamers, white-ribbed and wide like ferns.
Strawberries. Garlic. Artichokes. Spring. It waves to us from the future. Can you see it?
12.21 - It’s been a month since we planted these beets. Their leaves barely peek from what must surely be their second weeding.
I round the curve that connects Kiki to Bear. The smell of eucalyptus is strong: the red-veined plants are dotted with yellow berries. I want to rip a piece away from the trunk and lay on it. Kiki is much braver than she was two years ago. She trots far ahead and across the barranca, nose down, looking back occasionally. The eucalyptus is strong. The chicken manure is stronger.
I inhale deeply. It’s good to be home.
Suzie’s CSA Box Contents
Broccoli
Savoy Cabbage
Pak Choi
Carrots
Celery
Fennel
Cilantro
Kale
Chard
Spaghetti Squash
Red Frill Mustard
Sunflower Greens
Suzie’s CSA Small Box Contents
Cauliflower Romanesco
Celery
Chard
Cilantro
Fennel
Carrots
Cabbage-Savoy
Sunflower Greens
Suzie’s Good Farm Box Contents
Tangerines (Stehly Organic Farms)
Avocados (Stehly Organic Farms)
Oranges Navel (Stehly Organic Farms)
Sunflower Greens
Cauliflower Romanesco
Chard
Carrots
Broccoli
Items subject to change due to quality and availability.
Not yet a member? Join our CSA! Learn about our individually sold Good Farm Boxes and Farm Raiser Program.
Broccoli cream soup for the winter blues
Ingredients:
12oz broccoli, florets and stalks cut into small pieces
14fl oz vegetable stock
1oz butter
4 spring onions, finely sliced
1 3/4 oz Stilton, crumbled, or to taste
3 1/2 fl oz double cream
salt and freshly ground black pepper
pinch freshly grated nutmeg
For the croutons:
4 slices french bread
3 1/2 oz stilton or blue cheese, sliced
Preparation method:
-For the soup, place the pieces of broccoli into a glass bowl. Pour over the vegetable stock.
-Cover the bowl with cling film and place in the microwave. Cook on full power for four minutes, or until tender.
-Meanwhile, heat a frying pan until hot then add the butter. When it starts to foam, add the spring onions and cook for one minute.
-Transfer the cooked broccoli and stock to a food processor. Add the fried spring onions, Stilton and cream and blend until smooth
-Transfer the blended mixture to a pan and bring gently to a simmer.
-Meanwhile, for the croutons, toast the French bread under a grill until golden-brown on each side.
-Top the grilled bread with the slices of Stilton and return to the grill until golden-brown and bubbling.
-Season the soup with salt, freshly ground black pepper and a pinch of nutmeg.
-Divide the soup equally among four warm bowls and top each with a Stilton crouton. Serve.
Chocolate fennel cake with candied fennel
Ingredients:
For the cake
1 fennel bulb, cut in half lengthways, finely sliced
300g/10oz plain chocolate
150g/5oz butter
6 free-range eggs, separated
50g/2oz caster sugar
For the candied fennel
110g/4oz caster sugar
110ml/4fl oz water
16 baby fennel, trimmed
For the pastis cream
150ml/5fl oz double cream
2 tbsp pastis
1 tbsp icing sugar
Preparation method:
-Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4.
-For the cake, line a 24cm/9½in spring-bottomed cake tin with greaseproof paper.
-Scatter the fennel slices over the base of the cake tin.
-Place the chocolate and butter into a heat-proof bowl and place the bowl on top of a pan of just-boiled water over a low temperature until the chocolate has melted. Stir to combine.
-Place the egg yolks into a large mixing bowl with two tablespoons of the sugar and whisk lightly.
-Place the egg whites into a separate bowl and whisk until soft peaks form when the whisk is removed from the bowl.
-Whip by hand. Gradually add the remaining sugar to the egg whites, whisking continuously, until firm peaks are formed when the whisk is removed.
-Pour the melted chocolate onto the egg yolks and stir to combine.
-Fold one-third of the egg whites into the egg yolk and chocolate mixture.
-Gently fold the remaining egg whites into the mixture.
-Pour the cake mix over the fennel slices into the cake tin and place in the oven. Bake for about 20-25 minutes, or until golden-brown and a skewer comes out clean when inserted in the centre of the cake.
-Remove the cake from the oven and cool on a wire rack.
-For the candied fennel, place the sugar and water into a saucepan and add the fennel. Bring to the boil and simmer for 25-30 minutes until the mixture has thickened and the fennel has softened.
-Carefully remove the fennel from the pan and place onto a plate to cool until ready to serve.
-For the pastis cream, place the cream, pastis and icing sugar into a bowl and whisk until the cream has thickened.
I’ve done nothing but tour this week.
I took our new Self-Guided Tour last Saturday. On Monday, after our weekly management meeting, we took Inez to the chicken yard and collected 36 eggs, including five from our Dexy’s flock. On Thursday I toured some execs from Toyota who want to include the farm in the launch of the new Prius-C. Friday, Robin and I toured the top brass from Stone, who purchased Barry’s La Milpa property a few months ago and want to figure out how to stop losing money hand over fist at farming (we would also like to figure this out). Today we host our Second Saturday tours, though I’m not personally giving those. In two weeks I will host a new special tour called Sprout Safari in which I’ll walk folks through our Sun Grown property, located on Hollister Street about a mile and a half from the main Suzie’s Farm property.
What’s with all the tours? Touring the farm, walking around, seeing the least terns explode from the Red Frills, getting buzzed by helicopters, tasting tender favas, watching the clouds illustrate the sky, showing it off, talking about it, describing our operations, products and philosophies is the best way to get to know the farm. It’s the best way for me to get back into the groove of Suzie’s after my three-week absence. It’s the best reminder of why we do what we do.
I got lucky this week. I got to spend four out of five of my work days in the fields, though certainly not working in the fields. Inez joined me for two of those days, trooping out the two-hour Stone tour with little complain and much inspiration. Calamity and Ruby joined me for two of those days, capable of longer walks, generous with their enthusiasm. Most days I get zero time outside, driving past longingly with an ache and a wonder.
Humans evolved from outside endeavors. We used to walk, in groups, twelve miles a day hunting and gathering our food, setting up our camps, caring for each other. Our Flickr account has proven that many of our office-locked mates like looking at pictures of the farm. Perhaps the view from Flickr outshines whatever view you may have from your office window. That Flickr view is real, alive and accessible.
More real alive and accessible is the farm itself. We offer lots of ways to get outside. If you can’t make it down today for our Second Saturday tour, try joining me for the Sprout Safari January 29th at 9am. We will tour our Mother Board, Sun Grown Organic Distributors and you’ll learn the ins and outs of our sprout, microgreen and wheatgrass business. You’ll also get a chance to see our chicken yard and meet the girls who do all the laying. Otherwise, starting next week the Self-Guided Tours run concurrently with our open Farm Stand hours every Saturday from 10-2. Walk the farm at your pace. Buy some goodies at the Farm Stand as your reward.
The restorative powers of the wind, sun and earth are inspiriting. Come join us.
Read about all of our tour opportunities at Suzie’s Farm.
For all three boxes:
Braised leeks, Fennel and Chard
Ingredients
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves, smashed
Pinch crushed red pepper flakes
2 leeks, julienned
2 small fennel bulbs, thinly sliced
1 bunch chard, stems cut into 1/2-inch lengths, leaves cut into
1-inch lengths, leaves and stems reserved separately
Kosher salt
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 lemon, zested on a microplane and juiced, zest and juice reserved separately
Directions
Coat a large saute pan with olive oil. Toss in the smashed garlic and
crushed red pepper and bring the pan to a medium heat. When the garlic
becomes golden brown and very aromatic, remove it from the pan and
discard it. It has fulfilled its garlic destiny. Add the leeks, fennel
and chard stems, stir to coat with the oil and season with salt, to
taste. Stir in the white wine and the lemon zest and juice. Cover and
cook over medium heat until the veggies have become soft and wilted
but still maintain some texture, about 5 to 6 minutes. Remove the lid
and cook until most of the liquid has reduced, another 3 to 4 minutes.
Toss in the chard leaves, stir to combine and season with salt, to
taste. When the leaves have wilted but still look vibrantly green,
taste for seasoning. Reseason if needed (it probably will).
Cabbage and Pears
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons butter
One cone cabbage or napa cabbage, shredded
Two ripe but firm Bosc or Anjou pears
1/2 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
Melt 1-tablespoon of butter in a skillet over low heat. Add the
shredded cabbage and toss to coat with butter. Cover and simmer for
ten minutes. Remove from heat.
While the cabbage is cooking, peel, halve and core the pears. Slice
pears thinly. Melt remaining butter in a skillet over high heat. Add
the pears and sugar. Cook for 30 seconds.
Stir the pears into the cabbage. Season with salt and pepper.
CSA Box Contents
Broccoli
Cabbage Cone
Spinach
Head Lettuce
Celery
Fennel
Orange Carrots
Parsley
Chard
Cabbage Napa
Microgreens-Rainbow
CSA Small Box Contents
Broccoli
Spinach
Celery
Chard
Lettuce
Parsley
Carrots
Cabbage-Napa
Microgreens-Rainbow
Good Farm Box Contents
Tangerines (Stehly Organic Farms)
Avocados Bacon (Stehly Organic Farms)
Oranges Navel (Stehly Organic Farms)
Cabbage-Cone
Chard
Lettuce
Broccoli
Parsley
Items subject to change due to quality and availability.
Not yet a member? Join our CSA!
Well, hello.
The last time we met was well before the Winter Solstice. The most amazing thing happened. Robin spilled coffee on our home laptop and just like that: I got quiet.
For a few days there I felt pressure. I asked Robin to bring home Ellie’s computer so I could catch up on email, and more importantly, write the blog. But in our tumble to pack for our four-day camping trip, to prepare the farm for our absence, in the crazy that would be the dinner party hosted for our farm-ily at our home the Sunday night before our departure, our return Christmas Eve Eve, the responsibility for the laptop’s delivery and return to the office was too great and my writing – and my soul – began a steady rest.
Many of our staff took abundant time off during the holidays, traveling back east to New York, Pittsburg and Vermont. Emails sloughed off, except for cursory ones informing our Marketeers and CSA shareholders of closures. We even cancelled our all-office-staff-Monday meetings for December 19 and 26. Was there really anything to report?
It was, after all, the Holy Days – Hanukah and the Winter Solstice starting off the reflection, followed by Christmas, Kwanzaa, the New Year, Twelfth Night and the Epiphany. Throw into those three weeks Rodrigo’s 37th birthday, my 40th birthday, Robin’s dad’s 70th birthday, my Mom’s 65th birthday. Toss in spiking fevers for 75% of the family over two weekends, a child who falls trying to surprise Mommy and the “Surprises’” surprise trip to the Emergency Room, a dear uncle for whom an annoying cough turns into pneumonia that doesn’t respond to antibiotics in his stage 4 cancer- invaded lungs and a four-day road trip to my home town in Mexico.
That spilled coffee cup did me the biggest favor.
And yet, that is not to say that I did not feel pressure. For the road trip I left Monday, January 2nd at 3:30am and returned Thursday, January 5th at 11:30pm. I suffered a darling panic attack on Wednesday morning. I threw my back out Friday morning. Pressure pushed me to work yesterday, to see the fields for the first time in three weeks, to walk our new Self-Guided tour fighting a 102-degree fever, followed by a two-hour meeting. Pressure, a formidable adversary, has me writing this blog. Boo Hoo. Life goes on.
Except that deep winter is the time for quiet. Even when our winter weather has outshone our summer weather by a good three weeks, winter asks us to hold close our family and to appreciate life. Winter promises us another turn, and the time and strength to do it.
During the day, Sylvie perceives the fragile flight of the Sun, weak as a newborn. She wonders how long it will take to set. During her feverish nights, Sylvie regularly asks when the Sun will come out. She and Inez have entered the age of nightmares – unreal and confusing things that attack you while you are unguarded and resting. She wants to know, what takes so long for the reassuring Sun to rise?
There is no “New Year, New You!” I’m beginning to believe there are no holidays, only Holy Days. Only seasons and life and death. Only every day, holy and worth celebrating.
You are you in spite of the unreal and confusing things that happen during the days and nights. You are you because of the things that happen during the days and nights. You are the Moon growing dim and bright. You are the Sun, strong and weak. You are a treasured seed stirring in the Earth. You are a winter tree, denuded of its leaves, firm and rigid along the edge of a dirty stream. You are a new plant, leaves yearning toward the infinite cerulean sky, nebulous roots seeking warmth in carefully tended rows.
You are time and space and magnificent.
That is the report, Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to 2012.
For all three boxes:
Tangerine and Fennel Salad
Ingredients
1 large fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced
3 tangerines, peeled
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons sweetened dried cranberries
Directions
Place the sliced fennel in a salad bowl. Slice oranges to divide flesh sections and add to bowl. Drizzle with olive oil, red wine vinegar, and salt and pepper. Toss, top with sweetened cranberries and serve.
Crispy Kale “Chips”
Ingredients:
1 head kale, washed and thoroughly dried
2 tablespoons olive oil
Sea salt, for sprinkling
Directions
Preheat the oven to 275 degrees F.
Remove the ribs from the kale and cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces. Lay on a baking sheet and toss with the olive oil and salt. Bake until crisp, turning the leaves halfway through, about 20 minutes. Serve as finger food.
For small and regular CSA Boxes
Oven-roasted carrots
Ingredients
2 lbs carrots, trimmed and peeled
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
Balsamic vinegar
Coarse sea salt and fresh black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil
Roughly chopped parsley, for garnish (optional)
Directions
Preheat oven to 425°F.
Cut the carrots into bite-size chunks. Place the carrots on a rimmed baking sheet. Sprinkle with nutmeg. Then, splash on some balsamic vinegar, sea salt, black pepper and olive oil (amounts aren’t important, just use enough so all the vegetables will be well seasoned and coated). Toss everything together. Then, spread the carrots in a single layer on the baking sheet.
Roast in the oven at 425F for 25 minutes. The carrots will have crispy edges and should be cooked through on the inside.
Since the Autumnal Equinox, among our staff, we have had no less than four break-ups, three changes in residence, two make-ups, one engagement and one wedding. And that’s just the stuff I know about. That’s a lot of energy moving around.
Autumn is a transitional time, it is at a cross quarter to the solid halves of the year: summer and winter. If Summer is the old apartment where you used to live and Winter is the new apartment you are moving into, Autumn is the going-through-your-stuff, throwing out what doesn’t serve or fit you, packing and moving.
With ten days until the Winter Solstice, this is the last big push out of autumn’s darkening days before the restive turn and return to the light that is winter.
At the farm we have been busy with meetings, hiring, and inspections - trying to exploit the waning light from the dying days. Many of our staff are going on vacations: a much needed pause from their fatiguing and absorbing efforts. Orders naturally slow down. Moments are filled with amusements rather than business. We want to have our ducks in a row, have all major projects determined and resolved before the longest night of the year settles in.
Who will we be next year? What does Suzie’s Farm look like? What did we do? Do we do it again? What do we offer? What will we be? These are the questions we pose to each other; they are dreams, a pause, stillness, contemplation in darkness. I close my eyes on quiet cold nights like tonight and listen, watchfully, for answers.
We want everything organized and designated so we may relax during these holy days. Our organic inspection was held last week. Everything looks good; no major infractions. We’ve determined our plug and planting calendar. It is a curious and unusual thing to schedule the first pepper plug planting for the beginning of February. Is that even realistic? A Lammas time harvest to be planted at Candlemas? Yes, it is realistic and it is done. We’ve decided on our Pumpkin Palooza date, and our Pedal Pick and Grin date and Robin and I haven’t yet put up our Yule tree. Yes, the event calendar is set for all of 2012. Next year we won’t make it up as we go along.
I’m pushing to convert 207 into a Flower Field next year. It’s been a dream project for me and Ellie since last September. Mr. Adcock disked the field for me last Sunday. Tomorrow they are calling for a 90% chance of rain. I hope we will be able to spread the cover crop seed in time to take advantage precipitation. Then we can design and order the seeds and bulbs for the field.
Ordering berries. Learning to keep bees. Pruning trees. Planting vines. These are some of our winter plans.
The weeks since Thanksgiving have been asperous as others in our farm-ily make changes. Members of our farm-ily are going through their stuff, throwing out what doesn’t serve or fit them, and in some literal cases, packing and moving. We transition through their transitions. In fact we encourage them though their acts of volition have left us bummed out. I recognize that these changes are correct for them. Perhaps their goodbyes are merely so longs. Still we are left behind as they move on.
It is challenging to brook so many tiny deaths at once.
I have a touch of senioritis as the Solstice nears. No Hanukkah party for us this year: Robin, the girls and I will go glamping, returning in time for Christmas.
The Winter Solstice invites us to say good-bye to the previous year and to open up to the new. Have we planned? Have we thoughtfully abandoned unnecessary ways? Have we hoped for promising prospects? Are we eager? Are we paying attention? Are we healed?
I am ready to get quiet, to settle down and to get still. I am ready to move out of this mercurial time rife with distraction and commotion. I listen. I expect. I prepare. It doesn’t happen on one day or overnight accompanied by a countdown. It is a season and we are in it.
Get ready for Winter.
Sunday, 12/4/2011
The day is perfect as I pull into my spot at Kiki Town. Everything is cued. Only chem trails streak the bodaciously blue sky. The roosters and corridos flow strongly from the shanty town next to Homer across the inlet to my ears. The monarch butterflies jitterbug toward the river across the sky. Horses bray and neigh, dogs bark. All of that is punctuation to the stillness.
I haven’t been able to figure this weather out. When dressing I look out my window and see sunny blue skies. Standing by my window I feel warm. I check the daytime temperature: 67. I get dressed.
But I am dressing for autumn’s 67, or summer’s 67, not the 67 of an early winter. I can’t get it right. I’m cold – every day I’ve been cold – around my neck, the tips of my fingers, my arms, my wrists. I don’t bring the jacket or heavy coat. I depend on sweaters and layers. I won’t believe it’s time for the heavier outerwear. My blood is thin and wan. The sun won’t warm. The breezes chill. Eighteen days away from the Winter Solstice, it’s time to admit it. I am closer to Winter than I am to Autumn.
I see another hive opened and abandoned here in Kiki’s corner. Since bees tend to attack large, dark colored beings I’m wearing too much black to feel comfortable staying near the hive for long. I’m unsatisfied with our beekeeper. Luckily he has gotten very busy with plenty of work, but our hives are suffering. This will be part of our winter’s work: beekeeping.
Robin cultivated this corner for an hour on Friday. He was so happy when he got home from work. One hour on the tractor. The sandy soil here is parched already, and finer. Congratulations to him. A bit of a respite before our organic inspection for re-certification this week.
I walk east along the road and kick the husk of a green kabota squash – dry and brittle as plastic. Half used plug trays of lettuce and broccoli, dry and brittle, have been abandoned here. The cauliflower planted 11.23 rises brightly from its hole at four inches high. I count ahead. This cauliflower should be ready after Valentine’s Day.
Black plastic has been pulled up on this south side. It’s time to plow in these compacted beds. It’s time to make them friable and accept new life.
The cauliflower from 11.7 bears six strong leaves, smooth and substantial as river rock. Planted four-across, the Bambi lettuce leaves curl around each other, a crowded group hug in the row. Volunteer squash push through planting holes alongside red leaf lettuce and frisee. Here are rows straight and tan as pencils, ready to be planted.
I watch as a team of five harvests broccoli deep among the rows. This variety, Happy Rich, snaps easily off the main stalk. No knives are necessary. Four harvesters drop the pieces with cape-like leaves into a 5-gallon bucket. The broccoli makes a hollow thudding sound as it hits the bottom. Then the fifth harvester carrying boxes meets them in the field. He folds the boxes, pours the harvested broccoli into the box, then carries it to the road where it will be loaded into the truck and taken to the warehouse.
It’s been recently cultivated between these rows. The soil is soft. I try to make things easy on myself by walking on previous footsteps. Walking among the 9.1 cauliflower I wonder if the leaves are edible. They are broad and rippled and fine. I’m hungry just looking at them. I love walking through the rows among the harvest crews. I love eavesdropping on them, listening to them sing or their conversations. Martina’s hand is better. Manuel acts as DJ for his crew, carrying a small transistor radio and singing along.
The favas! Ah, the favas! Every time we grow them to luscious perfection, until they reach the flowering stage. Once they flower they stagnate and wither. Here they are, luscious and perfect and flowering. We talk about the favas in meetings. We hope this time they will make it past this stage. We hope this time we will actually grow and eat favas. Or at least figure out what the heck is going wrong.
The dogs romp among the broccoli and cabbage: the sturdy leaves crunch and rip as the dogs go by. Summer vegetables don’t sound like that hearty. Summer vegetables have more pliable, softer leaves. Summer leaves murmur.
The celery continues to spread. It looks more like parsley than celery. We are many many weeks away from the first celery harvest. It’s got to stalk up and bulk up instead of spread thin and out. I’m thinking end of January.
My flower field is densely covered with nettles and mallow. Tractor Man Chris calls is a putting green. This field and I have been promised a light disking this week. If we don’t get on this soon the weeds will continue to take over. We will spread a cover crop here until we order the plants, start the plugs and finish the field design. The cover crop will tide us over, help us bide our time until we are ready. Planning the flower field = winter’s work.
The strawberries look robust. Many plants boast 6-7 sets of leaves each and I see a few with white flowers and berries already. Of course there is competition in each strawberry hole – nettles, grass, squash, mallow squat uninvited.
At breakfast this morning Robin and I discussed our possible U-Pick strawberry days. Robin remains conservative since our berries performed so poorly last year. I remind him that two years ago, when we planted these same varieties (Camarosa and Albion) in the same month (November) we had so much fruit that I took strawberries instead of cupcakes for the girls’ third birthday party (March 22) at school. He gets a soft look in his eyes as he remembers that we also gave each CSA shareholder 3-packs of strawberries during those days. He snaps out of his fantasy. He maintains that as long as we get moderate instead of heavy rain in February we might have strawberries in March. He’s planning on June. I’m hoping March. We will keep you posted.
Among the perennial herb bed the rosemary is up, the chives are way down. Thyme, oregano, tarragon, and marjoram are burdened by weeds but determined. The mint looks uncertain. The sage is lethargic.
I look up and spot an unfamiliar white box truck. Two strangers have descended and are strolling through the fields, stooping among the rows, and – wait a second , did they just pick something?! I hurry over to them – triangulating our positions. I prepare in my mind – should I approach them in a friendly but direct manner? Angry? Curious? We’ve been tagged. We’ve had equipment and vegetables stolen. Who are they and what are they doing on our property? I cut my north-side tour short and power-walk my way over there.
By the time I reach them, they turn and greet me with smiles and hugs and surprise. It’s Quinn, our Restaurant Right-hand, and Sal from Moceri Produce come down to the farm to pick forty perfect peppers for the chef at the Convention Center. I bid them enjoy the field and the day and get back to my ramble.
The artichokes planted 10.27 are coming up, finally. Their first leaves grey-green serrated spears like a bread knife.
The Pac Choy is free of leaf damage. It and the butter lettuce leaves swirl like cowlicks.
We’ve decided to grow next year’s sunflower maze in the same spot. All the fallen and spent sunflower heads will become volunteers that will be gratefully welcomed.
Here they’ve finally pulled up the water lines and mowed the radishes and the over-run-by-weeds sections of Blue Scotch Kale, Mizuna, Red Russian Kale. September’s stuff has been choked, drowned and devoured. The stakes say there are beets and carrots and kale in there. But the weeds are so high it’s impossible to know the survival rate or if, in spite of being woefully short on beets and carrots and kale, it is worth trying to save them.
The Red Russian Kale they hand weeded two weeks ago has bounced back. The Blue Scotch Kale is leggy and weak as a new-born giraffe. The germ was never good here but behind as we are, we will give it a try.
Here at Bear I observe the surprise 9.14 late planting of Wee-Be-Little pumpkins: 10 rows. If we miss any early December frosts, they should be ready by the end of the month. Already some of the leaves are black on these plants – a result of steadily colder nights. The fruits are formed and goldfish-colored. A few plants have even set out hopeful new flowers – possibly as confused as I am by the sunny days. Each pumpkin a golden egg waiting to be picked and cured.
The chickens are gone from the fields now. They’ve been taken back to our Sun Grown property like Snow Birds – for warmer housing and more consistent care. Calamity looks around befuddled and sniffs the ground. You can see her thinking, “I left them here last week. Where did they go?” The field is noticeably quiet without Pierre , Erin and the rest of the Seagulls and Runners. These entire sections need to be mowed and plowed.
The perennial herb bed here at Bear is bordered by chest-high weeds, arugula, red frills, cilantro, basils – lemon and Thai – and onions from 8.5. Here are two rows of cilantro – one from 7.29 and one from 7.22, Robin and my 16-year anniversary. July 22 – wasn’t that a million years ago? This section, like so many others, also needs to be mowed and plowed. Winter Work.
The herbs still need a weeding hand. When we formed these beds we mulched them with heavy wood chips. The beefy topping doesn’t seem to have done much good as the weeds are up bold and sassy as a teenager. We are going with straw this winter. Already it seems we have used the spent straw from Apprentice Chris’s mushroom farm to mulch. Ellie came in last weekend to weed for a few hours. Looking back on her work, she wasn’t impressed but every little bit helps. Maybe I’ll get a turn in here this week.
Summer’s broad lush chamomile fields are gone. The eggplant looks so pathetic, we should be done with it but it keeps on giving. It’s time to mow here too. Cut the water, pull the plastic and drip lines. Summer is over. It’s time to get ready for the future and stop hanging on to this past. There is too much other work to do.
Yup, Bear is winding down production for the winter.
In the road between Ruby’s creek the dogs find a flattened and forgotten rat and further on, a snake; it’s hide dry as jerky, it’s bones pushing against the hide like weeds straining against our black plastic mulch.
The ducks beep-beep-beep a warning, though I’m not sure to whom it is directed. To Kiki and Ruby? To their fellow ducks? To me? Three explode out of the creek, flying high past the tree tops. Ducks rarely sound calm. They always seem agitated to me. Angry birds.
5.12 flowers. 5.24 San Marzano tomatoes. Pre-summer food still in the ground. The black plastic has been pulled here. Homer has dried Broom Corn, some peppers, tomatoes, Cannelinni beans and new plantings of beets, arugula, spinach. The new plantings are fine. Even when Ruby’s Creek overflows, we won’t need to get back here to harvest. Dated 11.27, we will likely start harvesting in the beginning of February. There is lots to be mowed here too.
A dragonfly does me the favor of dancing nearby. It’s the first one I’ve seen since the cold has come. I stand for a while, confusing Calamity who is eager to move on, and watch it dart and hover, rise and fall. A Japanese symbol of happiness, courage and strength and one of my favorite insects, I’m not sure when I’ll see my next one. So I take my opportunity, I observe, contentedly, and enjoy its flight, standing in a wisp of sunlight.
CSA Box Contents
Bok Choi
Radicchio
Napa Cabbage
Butternut Squash
Spinach
Sugar pea
Arugula
Cauliflower Romanesco
Radishes
Broccoli
CSA Small Box Contents
Napa Cabbage
Sugar pea
Radishes
Spinach
Cauliflower Romanesco
Broccoli
Arugula
Bok Choi
Butternut Squash
Good Farm Box Contents
Tangerines (Stehly Organic Farms)
Lemons Eureka (Stehly Organic Farms)
Stuffing Mix (Bread & Cie)
Radishes
Cauliflower Romanesco
Sugar Pea
Butternut Squash
Spinach
Items subject to change due to quality and availability.
Not yet a member? Join our CSA!
Sometimes all you need
To flag your spirit
To wave your energy
Is a walk
In peace,
And
To eat a
Raw leaf
Of Swiss chard
Silver veined
And salty as beach sand.
You need to tear each leaf deliberately
And chew each shred thoughtfully.
You need to let the juices
Accumulate in the corner of your jaw
Mix with your saliva and
Quench your thirst.
You need time
To consider the act and
The action.
Sometimes you need to sit
In the back of an electric blue pick-up truck
And watch four dissimilar men
Pull black plastic from a distant field.
You need to behold a blimp
Tack aimlessly in a spotless cerulean sky.
You need to feel a
Weak Winter sun
Try to warm your
Wrists.
The sound track to the movie
That unfolds before you:
A precious wind
Swimming through cedar canes,
The jingling of dog tags,
And the ripping of
Honey Crisp apple flesh
Light and sweet as cabbage
Between your teeth loud in your ears
The rustle of the core landing
In a basket of dry
And fallen leaves
As you toss the
Ravaged core
Behind you.
Do not let the calendar date, nor the relentless holiday music featured on KYXY, nor the deluge of displays at Costco and Target fool you. It is autumn though the Christmas spectacles want you to anticipate otherwise.
This is hard for me. I love autumn. I want to enjoy every last moment of this transition. Yet I admit, Robin and I are guilty of having holiday lights up – though not the tree. The girls are excited. Their excitement is contagious. I’m trying to keep the fall vibe going with its fallen leaves and pumpkins on the stoop. But on Tuesday, November 29, the girls and I made construction paper chains to decorate our future Tannenbaum. Whoa, Winter! Slow down!
I remember that feeling of enthusiasm and promise. The contrast between the dark nights and the sparkling lights. The cold air and the warm house. It is a distinct and powerful thing which is why the memory it creates is so profound and long-lasting. Winter is transformative. Transformations are magic.
But I’m getting ahead of myself – the transition has to happen before the transformation. So I try to savor Autumn and it’s gift of transition as I resist getting seduced by the events of the season. The uniqueness, the feeling of needing to get it all done, of not wanting to miss one moment, of wanting to do it all, see it all, visit them all, create it all.
The pull is strong now, toward the Solstice. Can you feel it? Magnetizing and mesmerizing. Are you capable of withstanding its force? Of staying in the moment? Of not getting ahead of yourself?
Try, if you can, to move slowly, languidly toward Winter. But as we have hung the holiday lights, reasonably prepare yourself for the holidays. Transform your idea of traditional holiday gifts by giving the gift of Suzie’s.
We believe that the gift of Suzie’s Farm is community. We believe the gift of Suzie’s Farm is health. We believe that the gift of Suzie’s Farm is life. This is the gift we strive to give you all year long - the gift of nourishment, of care, of peace. What if you gave that - those intentions - as a gift to your loved ones?
Here’s what we got for you, if you are interested in those kinds of gifts. The kinds of gifts that need no batteries, that don’t need to be dusted, that can be given with good thoughts and good intentions.
You can get a 12-pack of tour passes for $60. Usually our tours are $10 per person, so this is a steal! These make great gifts for teachers or stocking stuffers. Heck, save some for yourself! Come take a stroll once a month and see the farm change and grow through the seasons.
Give a CSA subscription! This is the perfect gift from parents to a college student or from children to their parents. Honestly, who needs another sweater or pair of Dearfoam slippers? A 12-week vegetable subscription is something you can actually use, use up, and feel good about giving! It’s healthy, it’s healthful and it shows you care. Opening their CSA box is like opening a Christmas present all season long!
Market Bucks: don’t think they can commit to a CSA membership? Maybe they like to pick their own vegetables. Or really love that community feeling of shopping at the farmers market. Give them Market Bucks. We are in 10 Farmers Markets six days per week – surely at a market near your recipient. Or they can come on down to the farm stand to use their bucks. Veggies! Not just a side dish anymore!
The Good Farm Box is an individually offered box of freshly harvested Suzie’s Farm produce and locally sourced items from other farms. Forget bringing a bottle of wine or a bouquet of flowers to your hosts! Tie the Good Farm Box up with a bow and gift it at your next bash!
And last but not least, a 4-pack of farm tours with yours truly – Lucila De Alejandro. Tours will include an extended walking tour with a break for lunch, a full moon tour and a Silent Tour. I’m excited about offering this tour pack. I learn more about the farm when I share the farm with others. Come get to know the farm; come get to know yourself. These tours are limited to 20 people. These tours are my gift to you. I hope you’ll join me.
Truly these holiday offerings are our gift to you. We are proud of our work and our workers. We stand behind our produce and our products. We want you to experience the farm in a myriad of ways. If you believe in us, like you believe in flying reindeer, you might want to share us and our story with your family and friends. Like the Three Wise Men we humbly offer these precious tokens. Like the supply of oil that kept the Temple candles lit for eight days, our offerings are small and mighty.
We don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves – it is still Autumn after all. But we recognize the inevitability and the passage of time. And frankly, late Fall really feels like early EARLY winter.
Happy Holidays
See all our Holiday offerings in our online shop, or email (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) for more info.