Farmers' Holiday

The sky shimmers pearly grey as I approach the distribution tent at Restoration Farm. It is uncharacteristically warm for late November, as if the growing season of 2010 is trying to squeeze in just a few more hours of productivity.

The head growers have prepared a bonus distribution of vegetables – a final, Thanksgiving harvest for members already signed up for 2011. I can only gape, astonished, at the endless banquet table, groaning with a medley of autumn vegetables - red and green cabbage the size of soccer balls, golden beets as big as baseballs, fat leeks, and clumps of chubby crooked carrots.

The butternut squash has been prolific – not one, but two?

And of course, there are always vibrant, life-giving greens.  

The farmers – our farmers – Dan and Caroline seem happy and content. The pace at Restoration Farm will slow… for a time.

I stop to chat, but this is not the usual relaxed weekend distribution. Within minutes, a drove of members flood the tent with recyclable bags in hand. It is as though someone has just convened a frenetic harvest square dance. People gather their produce with a sense of efficiency and purpose. There are still pies to be baked. I jump into line and get with the business of gathering and weighing.

Last spring these vegetables were tiny seeds, pushed into the soil by index fingers caked in dirt.  Such potential now fulfilled, but it required an investment - sun, sweat, collaboration, water, weeding and a nurturing community.   

Such dividends are found in every bite – brilliant color, variety, flavor and nourishment for the body and the spirit - satisfying our hunger, stocking our freezers, and filling our lives.

As the butternut squash puree, the green bean casserole, the beet salad and the pumpkin bread are placed on the table on this day of Thanksgiving - and passed between friends and family - there is reason to smile. We all share in the farm this day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

©2010 T.W. Barritt all Rights Reserved

Butter, Salt and the Simple Gifts of Restoration Farm

The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life.

~Robert Louis Stevenson

And now, the growing season concludes again at Restoration Farm. Delicate spring salad greens gave way to the sweet berries of summer, ending with the russet flesh of autumn squash.

I am just a bit melancholy, but mindful of the simple gifts that flourish at Restoration Farm.

This season the food from the farm was less about striving for fussy culinary achievements. It was about the snap of a green bean, the tenderness of young spinach leaves, the earthiness of a golden beet, the savory richness of a tomato or the creaminess of a freshly-harvested potato.

Head grower Caroline Fanning said it months ago.  Really good food just needs a little salt and butter. Indeed, why meddle with perfection? So, I steamed and stir fried. I ate the spinach fresh because that moment in time was so brief. An heirloom tomato “slicer” made the perfect dinner for a sultry summer night. I roasted eggplant until it was rich and velvety. Crisp kohlrabi was sliced into wedges, each adorned with a dollop of peanut butter. A Napa cabbage sautéed in butter and sprinkled with dill melted on the tongue. And, my favorite autumn pleasure – the impossibly sweet butternut squash from the farm – was steamed and pureed until silky smooth with a little salt, butter and maple syrup.

I was not always happy with my stewardship of my share.  I didn’t volunteer to work enough, and I didn’t seem to be on top of preparing or preserving the food I received.   Too often items were wasted, and when that happened I was ashamed.   When I think of how quickly the months flew by, I regret the food that was wasted.  

There is a sense of solitude as I walk down the wooded path for the final visit of the season. The air is crisp and cold. I recall summer mornings in the berry field where – at times – it was just me and the bees, and perhaps the only peace I would find during seven days of mayhem. Because the farm is part of an historic village, there were moments when I believed I was a time traveler and I wondered what century I was in. On occasion, a lone interpreter would walk by in rustic 19th century garb and I’d have to pinch myself. I remember the morning the serenity of the berry field was abruptly shattered by a gunshot from a Civil War encampment on the other side of the road.

The fields are nearly slumbering now, covered with a blanket of green. Head Grower Dan Holmes just loves the cover crop. For him, it symbolizes the rejuvenation and nourishment of the soil for the season to come.

At the final distribution, there are leeks and red cabbage, more of my favorite beets and carrots, and even some lovely autumn lettuce to remind us of how it all began.

Even as the season draws to a close, the community of members gathers once more to plant garlic.   We sit at wooden tables and split cloves that will be pushed into the soil.  It is miraculous when you consider how a single clove of garlic will multiply. 

The community continues to multiply.  George is at a table pulling apart the cloves, and there’s a new couple who have just moved here from San Diego.    The pungent aroma of garlic fills the air.

We move to the field and tuck garlic cloves into dimples left in the soil.    We are surrounded by flaming autumn leaves and a brilliant blue sky.   I try to drink it all in.  These simple moments are rare and should be savored.  

Simple and sweet.    

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

George’s Iowa City Coffee Cake

George Garbarini is enjoying a second career as a gentleman farmer at Restoration Farm. A long-time engineer, he now rules the pole bean kingdom at the farm and it is said that he doesn’t stop until the job is done and the last bean has been picked.

The gorgeous beans are a testament to George’s nurturing skills.

Indeed, George is a fixture at Restoration Farm, and his specialty – Iowa City Coffee Cake – is a fixture at farm pot luck dinners. You’d better not wait long to visit the dessert table on Pot Luck Night. Those who dawdle will miss their chance to get a thick slice of this moist cake, layered with fragrant cinnamon. It's a classic, and so is George.

As for the name, Iowa City Coffee Cake – I can tell you that Iowa City is located in the state of Iowa, and there are nearly 70 thousand residents. So, what’s the connection to the coffee cake? I don’t want to give away any trade secrets. You’ll have to pay a visit to the farm and ask George. You’re likely to find him in the field taking good care of the pole beans.  He will greet you with a friendly smile, and a great story. 

George Garbarini’s Iowa City Coffee Cake

Ingredients:
2 sticks margarine
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
2 cups self-rising flour
1 8-ounce container sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons cinnamon and 2 tablespoons sugar mixed together in a small cup
Confectioner’s sugar for decoration

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour Bundt pan. Melt margarine and pour in large bowl. With electric mixer, mix in sugar. Mix in 2 eggs. Mix in flour. Mix in 1 cup of sour cream. Mix in teaspoon of vanilla.

Pour half of batter into bundt pan. Sprinkle evenly with half of sugar and cinnamon mixture. Pour in rest of batter. Sprinkle with remainder of sugar and cinnamon.
Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes – not longer or it might burn. Remove from oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Invert onto cake plate.

After fully cooled, dust with confectioner’s sugar and enjoy!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

A Spanish Tortilla as Autumn Comes to Restoration Farm

You can feel it deep in your soul, even if the weather isn’t quite cooperating. Aromas seem more intense, the harvest moon and stars seem infinitely brighter and every breath you take fills you with anticipation. Autumn has arrived. And, although the thermometer is still flirting with 80 degrees, the vegetables at Restoration Farm have changed – darker flesh, thicker skin and deeper, earthier flavors.

Countless pounds of potatoes have been plucked from the soil, some rose pink and others burnished gold.  How do you describe the taste of a freshly harvested potato?  Words seem inadequate, but you know that all previous potatoes were pale imitations of this rich, creamy flesh and nutty aroma.

These potatoes require a recipe that offers simplicity and a showcase. I chose a traditional Spanish Tortilla – a potato omelet – comprised only of potatoes, eggs, olive oil and salt. Using a 10-inch non-stick skillet, two-and-a-quarter pounds of red and gold potatoes are sliced thin and sautéed in two cups of olive oil until tender. The finished potatoes are seasoned with salt and white pepper and drained. They are then combined with a mixture of 8 eggs beaten vigorously with a pinch of salt. Add two tablespoons of olive oil back into the pan, heat over medium heat and then pour in the egg and potato mixture. Press down the potatoes, and shake the pan periodically as the eggs set, so that the omelet doesn’t stick to the pan. After about 10 minutes, invert the tortilla onto the lid of the skillet, and then slide it back into the skillet with the cooked side up. Continue to heat until the bottom is set and golden. Transfer to a serving plate and serve at room temperature.

It seems fitting to eat the tortilla where the potatoes were grown, and I bring the dish to the Pot Luck Dinner celebrating the autumnal equinox at Restoration Farm.   The heat – and the flies – makes it feel a bit like early August, but the conversation is lively and there is music and an endless array of good food to share.   I think I experience real happiness from the gatherings at this historic farm, where the past, the soil, people and fresh food unite in one community. 

It is quieter as you walk in the field after the meal.  There are still some plum tomatoes on the vines, but the fields seem sparser and the sunflowers have closed and bowed their heads.  

The late afternoon sun hangs lower in the sky.   Is it really possible that the end of the growing season is just beyond the horizon? 



©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved  

You Say Tomato, I Say Yes!

We're feeling kind of tomato-wealthy here on Long Island. Last year - nothing. Bupkis. This year, we are reveling in a bevy of heirloom beauties from Restoration Farm. Our head growers, Dan and Caroline are certainly smiling.

These varieties have wonderful, evocative names, but I don't even know what they are. I'm just eating and enjoying. Does that make me cheap or sleazy? I don't think so.

How do I love thee, tomatoes from the vine? Let me count the ways. I sure am spending a lot of time cooking with tomatoes - crostini, slices, salads and tarts (for the fabulous tomato goat cheese tart recipe pictured here check out the September issue of Everyday Food).

In keeping with the mania, I even painted my new dining room "tomato red."

But, who said tomatoes had to be just one conformist shade of red?

Color my tomato world zebra green, with just a sprinkling of Kosher salt!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Fade to Black …

There was a time when – for me - the new school term marked the change in seasons. New pencils, loose leaf binders, and perhaps a shiny lunch box, all signaled the fact that summer was over. Fortunately, I’m well beyond having to endure the mental anguish of a new school semester. Now, the transition from summer to autumn is more likely to be marked by a change in seasonal produce, which generates a whole different range of emotions.

At Restoration Farm, the blackberries have bid us farewell for another season, although during a recent visit, an unknown picker had managed to collect the last of the choice berries (pictured above). His – or her – harvest seemed a fitting image to remind us of what was, indeed, a splendid berry season.

As the blackberries fade to black, I manage to pick enough to bake into this tart and buttery Apple-Blackberry Cake.

To pair apples with blackberries is the perfect transition of seasons. The blackberries glisten atop the cake like rare, dark jewels, which now they are. Yet, there are just enough still tucked away in the freezer – to be baked into a crisp in the dead of winter – promising a precious reminder of the sweet rewards of Saturday morning berry picking at Restoration Farm.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved