Thanksgiving at the Farm: All is Safely Gathered In

Once again, we pause to give thanks. We give thanks for the good times and the blessings, and if we are really brave and honest, we give thanks for the tough times, and consider what it taught us, and how it helped us grow.  

It’s the same at Restoration Farm.  Some things thrive and some things struggle, but we give thanks for it all. As Thanksgiving 2014 approaches, we gather again at the farm to share the final bounty of the season – root vegetables, Long Island Cheese pumpkins, winter squash, potatoes, stunning heads of broccoli and whimsical Brussels sprouts that look like sleigh bells.

Head grower Caroline Fanning talks about the unpredictability of the weather, and the cold snap that has gripped Long Island.  

“I thought we’d have beautiful lettuce for the members, but it didn’t make it,” she says. “The water was turning to ice on the ground as I washed the carrots.” 

Nothing is guaranteed.  We can only soldier on, hope for the best, and celebrate and be grateful for what we have.  

Members stream in for their Thanksgiving produce. The Tin House pulses with a sense of excitement at the bounty spread before us. 

The fields of Restoration Farm will take a brief respite, but even as they anticipate slumber, they are drenched in rich, emotional colors. It is a fiery, final celebration of the season that was. 

And, even still, things grow. As I walk in the fields, Glenn Aldridge pulls the truck to a stop in front of me and opens the passenger door.

“I have sage,” he says with excitement.  He passes me a handful of fragrant, slender leaves from a basket on the car seat, which I stuff in my coat pocket.  It smells like Thanksgiving dinner. 

At Apple Trace, the heirloom apple trees planted in memory of my dad Jim are shedding their leaves, but they grew extensively this season.  Some tower over me by three or four feet.  He would be amazed at how these trees have grown. 

I revel in the crisp beauty of it all for just a little longer, think about what germinated, blossomed and was harvested since that frigid New Year’s Day when we sat around the table selecting seeds, and wonder about the season that is yet to come. 

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

A Farm-to-Table Feast of Pastured Berkshire Pork

It is a grand finale to summer as the extended family at Restoration Farm dines on deliciously sweet, farm-raised Berkshire pork and exquisite sides made with vegetables grown on the farm.

Head grower Dan Holmes talks about the circle of trust needed to take on a pastured pork project for the first time, and the magic conjured among volunteers each day in the spirit of raising wholesome, healthy food.   

“Beyond eating pork, you are going to eat a piece of magic,” promises Dan. 

A magical, abundant feast it is indeed, dining under an expansive sky as the sun sets and the stars emerge.   

Our stomachs full and our spirits satisfied, we look ahead to autumn in anticipation of the next chapter…  

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Strawberry Jamboree

True strawberries – and by that, I mean strawberries that are locally grown and begin to ripen to perfection in early June – are just a fleeting moment in the landscape of summer. Lasting only two to three weeks, they are deeply red to the core, and drenched with sweet, sunny flavor.

More and more I realize that these ephemeral moments are something to protect and preserve.  Perhaps that’s why I have gravitated towards home canning.  A spoonful of homemade jam from a jar evokes a whole raft of memories.  It goes far beyond capturing the sweet flavor of the fruit. 

It recalls the sun on your back and the sweat on your brow as you walk through the fields at Restoration Farm. It’s the buzzing of honeybees and the glimpse of a red-winged blackbird.  It’s the conversations with friends in the field, and the reminder that despite the fact that a growing season is always advancing towards an autumnal finale, time just seems to move a little more slowly at the farm.     

It’s been a glorious start to summer, and a strawberry jam project was inevitable.  The strawberries come from Restoration Farm’s Glenn Aldridge, who this year cultivated a separate field of strawberries at the Old Hewlett Apple Orchard in Old Bethpage Village Restoration, which he’s been restoring and cultivating for several years now.  

It is hardly hyperbole to say that you can taste Glenn’s caring nature in these beautiful berries.  He gives me far more berries than the recipe requires, so my kitchen becomes the site of a strawberry jamboree.  

To prepare the jam, I use my Ball Automatic Jam & Jelly Maker, which is calibrated to cook at just the right temperature.  The reduced sugar recipe is formulated specifically for use with this device, and contains more fruit and more intense strawberry flavor.  

As the jam simmers, my memory is at work.  The aroma of warm strawberries instantly transport me to summers past, enjoying hot popovers slathered with jam on the banks of Jordan Pond at Acadia National Park.  

The final yield is eight jars of memories in two varieties – Strawberry Vanilla Jam infused with vanilla bean, and Strawberry Lemon Jam spiked with lemon zest. 

I leave you with this poem – given to me by my mom – written by Bea Lotz, which nicely captures the essence of strawberry jam in a quilted crystal glass jar:  

Homemade Jam

Sugared Summer in a jar,

To spread on Winter nights,

Rich layerings of sunshine

Of golden day delights.

Preserved now…lazy afternoons

With droning bumblebees,

Heavy berries bending low

And weighted, swollen trees.

Preserved for when the snow drifts,

When wind howls at the door –

Within each sticky spoonful,

Bright Summer lives once more.

-- Bea Lotz

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Summer Smiles on Restoration Farm

At precisely 6:51 AM on Saturday, June 21, 2014 Summer grins broadly and announces, “I’m back.”

Still in my robe, I greet Summer on my backyard deck with a steaming earthenware mug of coffee in hand. There is still a chill in the air as Summer slips back into our lives. I am tempted to chide her for taking her own sweet time in returning, but that would be ungracious. She is here for such a short time. Summer’s smile warms me to the core of my being. We take a few minutes to get reacquainted, and chat about how to spend this, the longest day of the year.  

At Restoration Farm, Summer’s visit is welcomed with open arms. The fields yield whimsical radishes and crisp white turnips in celebration of the event.  

The snap peas greet Summer with a burst of emerald green and a sweet snap of flavor. 

Farm members emerge from hibernation.  They gather in the field to pick luscious red strawberries and reunite with each other, buzzing about the potential of the season. 

Head Grower Dan Holmes plows the fields to expose the earth to the heated passion of Summer’s smile. 

At Apple Trace, the eight heritage apple trees planted in memory of my Dad welcome their third summer standing tall, covered in vibrant green leaves.

The new additions to the farm – two charcoal gray pastured piglets from Amish country in Pennsylvania – lounge happily in the balminess of Summer’s playful gaze.  Theirs will be a jovial season of foraging and tilling the soil of the fields to their heart’s content.   

Gentleman farmer, George Garbarini – brown from the sun and now well into his eighth decade of mercurial summers – is busy assuring the grass is clipped and the fields look their best for the solstice celebration.

The blackberry bushes clothe themselves in buoyant pink blossoms – with no hint of their darker mood to come. 

Summer’s smile warms the fields, the farmers and members of Restoration Farm alike. We revel in her visage knowing too well that her visit will be far too brief.     

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved