CORN HARVEST party!
This wednesday, October 12th from 9 am - 12 pm
Join us for one of the most magical harvests of the year this Wednesday from 9 am - noon!
We’ll be pulling popping off ears and pulling husks off of our beautiful Hopi Blue corn (and maybe a little bit of popcorn too!). Every ear is a present, waiting to be unwrapped and marveled at. We hope you can join us!
THIS WEEK’S HARVEST
Arugula, Mustard Mix, Assorted Lettuce, Purple Bok Choi, Rainbow Chard, Easter Egg Radishes, Celery, Scallions, Bishop Cauliflower, Carrots, Bintje Gold Potatoes, Sweet Peppers, Olympian Cucumbers, Summer Squash & Zucchini, Farao Cabbage, Heirloom & Slicing Tomatoes, Delicata Winter Squash
U-PICK
Please remember to check the u-pick board for updated weekly limits before going out to pick
🌟NEW Jack-O-Lantern Pumpkins: See below for details!
Albion Strawberries: Check u-pick board
Cherry Tomatoes: Gleanings
Frying Peppers: Shishitos & Padrons | Gleanings | See week 4’s newsletter for harvest and preparation tips
Hot Peppers: Buena Mulata, Habanero, Ali Limo and Jalapeño Hot Peppers
Tomatillos: Gleanings
Herbs: Dill, Thyme, Oregano, Marjoram, Tarragon, Onion Chives, Garlic Chives, Vietnamese Coriander, Culinary Lavender, Culinary Sage, French Sorrel, Lemon Verbena, Cilantro, Tulsi, Various Mints, Catnip, Chamomile, Purple Basil, Genovese Basil, Thai Basil
Flowers!
HARVEST NOTES
Delicata Winter Squash: Debuting our first of 9 Winter Squash varieties grown this year, Delicata are a perennial favorite. Versatile, and sweet, they even have edible skins. For the easiest preparation, cut in half, scoop out the seeds and roast, face down, until tender (adding a little water to your pan to keep the squash moist!). They are also delicious cut into rings or half circles, tossed with an oil of your choice (coconut is particularly scrumptious) and then roasted until caramelized. Enjoy!
PUMPKIN PATCH OPEN!
Halloween is coming and our pumpkin patch is now open! 420 plump pumpkins are out there waiting for you!
Season limit this year is: 1 pumpkin per share for shares without kids or 1 pumpkin per kid for shares with kids up to 3 pumpkins.
WINTER SISTER FARM CSA SIGN-UPS NOW OPEN!
The hottest tickets in town are getting snatched up — Winter Sister Farm’s 2023 Winter CSA program is now open for registration! Winter Sister Farm, right next door to us, was started by our dear friends Anna and Sarah Dozor. Their CSA runs runs from December through May and includes 24 weeks of specialty winter veggies, flowers, herbs, and more — all picked up by CSA members, free-choice market style, on their beautiful farm here on Cooper Rd. Sign-up today!
FARMER’S LOG
AN ODE TO CORN
In honor of our upcoming flour corn harvest this Wednesday, we wanted this newsletter to be a song of praise to maize: Humanity is bound to no other plant more than maize, in life and myth.
Since it’s domestication in Southern Mexico some 10,000 years ago, maize has become the staff of life to human civilization as we know it.
We can testify to it’s power just as farmers: From a small, armored, long-storing kernel of radiant color springs forth a plant (a grass) with vigor unmatched. In a week or so it out-competes any weed, reaching for the sun with jaw-dropping, almost hallucinatory speed. In what seems like the blink of an eye ,maize creates a shady, complete canopy over the ground, soaking up every ray of sun with palm thick spears. After reaching full height, maize enters the most beautiful phase, a month of beautiful wind tossed sex. The pollen, contained in the brown tassels atop the plant, feeds thousands of pollinators and floats town to the silks below. Each silk, if pollinated, becomes a kernel. And from just one kernel, up to 800 kernels can grow — multiplicities of nourishment.
As for the poets, we’ll let them speak for themselves. First, we’ll hear from our dear friend, former neighbor, and CSA members, Rebecca Harris, the veritable poet in residence of our CSA, who wrote this poem in 2019 after walking through the corn field. Second, we’ll hear from Pablo Neruda.
Notice that both poets name the sea, laughter, blue, children — undoubtedly tapping into the same collective song of praise to the spirit of Mother Maize.
* * * * *
The Symphony of Harvest
by Rebecca Harris
I go down to the
Corn stalks just to listen
To them.
The way you might go
To hear the ocean.
Or bear a child to share
Laughter.
Here in a world that feels
Like a desert,
I hear rain in this
Corn-
Hear voices-
Melted with sunlight,
Made soft and strong-
Such a wild way-
The corn dances,
As strange
As lions
Dancing,
Or finding a melody in the
Dirt,
Or light in a cave.
Here,
They reach so tall,
They are browning,
Golden and green-
The farthest cousin from
The sea-
Yet I hear them murmur
The same words.
And I am bathed
In music.
Weeks later,
I heard that children were stamping
On the corn
After harvest,
Finally allowed to run tender and
Wild through and over the stalks.
I imagine they blew through them like
Wind colored with blue,
Dragging the sky behind them.
Blue corn sits in baskets
Like fallen arrows
Waiting to dance.
Now,
I see the corn stalks and as I
Let go of the sea wind that it
Brought into my hair
I am filled with children and their
Games
And the memory in my body
Joining them,
As beautifully as the corn and I
Make music.
* * * * *
Ode to Maize
by Pablo Neruda
America, from a grain
of maize you grew
to crown
with spacious lands
the ocean foam.
A grain of maize was your geography.
From the grain
a green lance rose,
was covered with gold,
to grace the heights
of Peru with its yellow tassels.
But, poet, let
history rest in its shroud;
praise with your lyre
the grain in its granaries:
sing to the simple maize in
the kitchen.
First, a fine beard
fluttered in the field
above the tender teeth
of the young ear.
Then the husks parted
and fruitfulness burst its veils
of pale papyrus
that grains of laughter
might fall upon the earth.
To the stone,
in your journey,
you returned.
Not to the terrible stone,
the bloody
triangle of Mexican death,
but to the grinding stone
sacred
stone of your kitchens.
There, milk and matter,
strength-giving, nutritious
cornmeal pulp,
you were worked and patted
by the wondrous hands
of dark-skinned women.
Wherever you fall, maize,
whether into the
splendid pot of porridge, or among
country beans, you light up
the meal and lend it
your virginal flavor.
Oh, to bite into
the steaming ear beside the sea
of distant song and deepest waltz.
To boil you
as your aroma
spreads through
blue sierras.
But is there
no end
to your treasure?
In chalky, barren lands
bordered
by the sea, along
the rocky Chilean coast,
at times
only your radiance
reaches the empty
table of the miner.
Your light, your cornmeal,
your hope
pervades America’s solitudes,
and to hunger
your lances
are enemy legions.
Within your husks,
like gentle kernels,
our sober provincial
children’s hearts were
nurtured,
until life began
to shuck us from the ear.
* * * * *
We hope to see you in the corn this Wednesday!
See you in the fields,
David & Kayta
