I Know I'll Often Stop And Think About Them...

I do have a dish that I've been meaning to blog about, but the topic at hand takes precedence. I have often appreciated all the wonderful people I have encountered throughout my farming education, and lately I have felt extremely fortunate and grateful. There are a number of people who have touched my life and my heart and I very much want to focus on them and express how and why.

Last season in North Carolina we worked for the awesome couple Carl & Julie. Our very first night there they welcomed us with a home-cooked meal, beer and wine they had brewed themselves, and hours of warm conversation. See brew station below:

After just saying goodbye to everything and everyone I knew and loved to move 800+ miles away, that first night did absolute wonders to set my mind at ease. As the season went on I learned so much from Carl & Julie, and I would be so psyched just to wake up and get outside and see all there was to see. While we worked we spent countless hours talking and listening and getting to know each other, and 5 days a week we would all sit down to lunch together and ravenously inhale some delicious creation one of us had prepared. It really was a nice mid-day break to either cook for others or be cooked for, and to shower ourselves with compliments of the meal and the amazing ingredients we had all worked so hard to produce. Here's a shot of our last communal lunch of the season:

November brought a tearful goodbye, promises of keeping in touch and future visits back to the farm. Both of which we've made good on. In April hubby and I drove back down to the mountains to retrieve some of our belongings that Carl & Julie so generously stored for us until we figured out where we would be come springtime. And boy, am I glad all our stuff didn't fit into our cars when we left in the fall. It was absolutely incredible to see Carl & Julie again, and stay up late into the night imbibing, rehashing our winters, and discussing all things farming. Our last night there they fed us well as always, kale and chard quesadillas and home-grown, home-made french fries. Yum. We'll be back again to see Carl & Julie someday, and I can't wait.

As part of our apprenticeship in North Carolina we were members in the C.R.A.F.T. program and got to meet tons of great current and future farmers, see a number of different and beautiful operations, and all learn with and from each other. Every month March thru November we would all meet up and tour a different farm, be engaged by a demo,workshop or lecture orchestrated by the host, and then chow down at a potluck. This guy in the white shirt is Andy-

as he was showing and explaining the process of using heavy machinery and piggies to reclaim some land to put into production. We learned about this and much more as all of us CRAFTers toured the farm him and his wife run on an "intentional community". Andy has got to be the single most normal person to ever live on a commune. There is very little about him that aligns with my notion of commune dwellers, save for the fact that I adore the idea in theory, and if I ever had to live on one I'd hope to have someone like Andy as my neighbor. During some gentle probing and prodding from all of us non-commune living spectators (It was pretty hard for us to focus solely on the farm as we traipsed all over this crazy off-the-grid fairyland) Andy willingly offered up some of his criticisms of the place. I thought that was incredibly cool, and a confirmation of his unadulterated sanity. Question everything.

I'm pretty sure one of the coolest of all the cool people I came to know in North Carolina is Frank,

the fascinating and brilliant steward of a small organic farm on the other side of the mountain from us. He is a transplant to Appalachia and his farm is a striking blend of human cultivation amongst the ever-creeping rugged wilderness. Frank lives his life and runs his farm in a manner most simplistic, which I find incredibly inspiring and thought provoking. He writes this amazing blog which both tickles my mind and tugs at my heart with every post. And for all the enigmatic beauty and intelligence that is Frank, one of my favorite things about him was that he hired these two

as his 2009 interns. Ain't they cute? That's Crystal and Joe, our season-long homies. We would hang at all the CRAFT functions, occasionally on each other's farms, and pay friendly visits to one another every Saturday at market. One incredible summer day in the mountains Joe and Crystal took us along to the secret swimmin' hole down the road:

and it is still one of my favorite memories of the time I spent in NC. Us farmer kids rode in the back of a pickup truck through rural southern America to go jump off rocks into the stream and it felt so poignantly timeless. I remember then thinking how I had grown up on the streets of Chicago and never could have imagined this day for myself.

We didn't manage to spend nearly as much time with Joe and Crystal as we would have liked, but somehow it was always oddly comforting knowing they were just over the mountain. We never even really said goodbye; we went on to our next adventure and so did they and I have no way to ever contact either of them. I don't even know their last names. But I do know that for years to come I will think of them and wonder what treasures and experiences life has bestowed on those two.

And now for my very very favoritist person that farming has brought into my life- Farmer Mark in central Wisconsin.

That's him on his biodiesel tractor. And just look at that quintessential silo and red barn. I suppose it would be much more apropos to say that Farmer Mark is what brought farming into my life. He is the reason I am sitting in this RV right now, and I absolutely adore him for it. My time on Mark's farm changed me in indescribable ways and I would be hard pressed to think of anything that has had a greater impact on my life. My first season as a worker share I learned: of all the beauty to be found in the dirt, the satisfaction of converting sweat and energy into a job well done, the fact that fruits and vegetables grown 15 miles away taste astronomically better than their supermarket counterparts, that even in the midwest you can feed yourself for most of the year, and that food is very, very important. And Mark is a good freaking farmer. That is something I didn't realize the magnitude of that first season. It wasn't until we had seen countless operations that it dawned on me how nearly impossible it is to be successful at this trade. We had learned under one of the very best, for free. Mark runs the entire thing solo, spends no money on labor, relies very little on mechanization, but somehow manages to maintain one of the largest CSA's in central Wisconsin (which is in its 15th season!) and perpetually provide his members with kick-ass boxes every week.

Not to mention he is one of those larger-than-life personalities; total hippie yet wickedly smart, simultaneously introspective and explosive, works and plays really fucking hard, and is so warm and generous it is almost heartbreaking. Just look at him lounging on my feet

the morning after his killer harvest party. He is quite the character, that Farmer Mark, and I miss him immensely. From time to time he checks in with me or hubby and vice versa. We have been fantasizing about taking a little drive northward whenever this year's party comes around...

I am so very thankful for having crossed paths with these folks and countless others. This current season has proved to bring equally incredible people into my life whom I will talk all about someday. I assure you Farmer Boss Man & Lady are mind-blowingly wonderful and interesting but I feel I can't concisely express their total awesomeness while being so deeply entrenched in this life right now. I would like to start notating snippets of our every day lives together for posterity's sake (instead of these generic statements I made of folks in this here blog) and because it's pretty great. Scrolling upward through this post I kind of can't believe how lucky I am to be living this life...

These Are Strange Times, Man.

It is absolutely motionless outside, opposed to the typical constant wind that logically exists in these plains with nothing for miles to slow it. And it is so silent that in another place you could hear a pin drop, except here what we hear is the crackling of the monstrous power lines, whose jet black silhouettes are obvious and ever-present against any shade of night sky. No coyotes tonight, no frogs. Occasionally the first lone cricket of the season chirps, unanswered.

It has been so unreasonably hot. For the last three days it has been in the mid-to-upper 90's in the day. The nights have been better, but I think the pure deliciousness of these first summer nights has allowed me to ignore the fact that I can't sleep because everything is sticky and uncomfortable.

Tonight at around 11 I was overcome with a sense of ickyness. Earlier I had put some lotion on, because it had seemed like the right thing to do after baking in the scorching sun all day. But then I was this disgusting mess of dirt, old sunscreen, sweat and greasy lotion surrounded by suffocating humidity. Suddenly, past my usual bed time already, I felt like if I didn't shower right then I would undoubtedly lay awake all night. Hubby encouraged me to go inside The Farmers' house and shower so vehemently that I came to believe that this was the single greatest idea in the world. (soon after I came to believe that maybe I was just really stinky.) So I trekked up the driveway with plans of slipping in quietly and hoping not to wake anyone. Well, Farmer Boss Lady wasn't even home yet, and as I walked in Farmer Boss Man was nowhere to be seen but there was loud strange music playing in the living room and nearly every possible light in the building was on. I showered, half-hearing the muffled, Nirvana Unplugged sounding songs that faded into something like a jew harp, and had a moment that I felt like me and my few cohorts here were marooned in the middle of nowhere, wide awake in the middle of the night, and being crazy because the heat had made us so.

I hope it cools down soon.

Lambsquarters, Wild Onion and Egg Bake

I am seriously hoping that this is the lamest recipe I will ever post.

When I came up with the concept of this blog I was determined to create recipes centered around ingredients grown on the farm. What I didn't realize at the time was A) there isn't much "farm fresh" produce available in April and May in the midwest on a tiny farm with no hoophouses in production, or B) exactly how challenging it would be to cook in an RV. With no running water. Or stove. This RV is a work in progress; the replacement tank for our water should be arriving soon, so we will then be able to indulge in the luxury of H20 (cold only) streaming from our very own kitchen sink. We've gotten by for the last 2 months without it, and we've decided the shower and toilet are not worth figuring out. The propane tank for the oven & stove is some rusty, damaged relic from the 70's that we've also decided to ignore. Even if some establishment could and would refill the thing, we just may explode. That's ok, we keep our silverware drawer in the oven. Right next to the refrigerator that doesn't work but instead serves as a nice pantry. At this point I'm starting to wonder where we would store things if our appliances were up and running...

So what conveniences do we have in this RV? Well, let's see. A pretty decent stereo, a laptop with slow-but-usually-functional internet (thanks to some dear friends lending us a wireless router) and a dvd player to watch our Netflix, a coffee maker, a microwave, and a convection toaster oven. We also have a propane camping stove which I fully intend on adopting as a regular method of cooking, but gosh darnitt that "first time" anxiety has postponed this momentous event. Now I've cooked on the camp stove in the past, when I was camping. So far though it has just seemed like too much of a hassle.

But I really wanted to get this blog going. And then one night for dinner our Farmer Boss Lady served up some steamed lambsquarters. Lambsquarters are an insanely prevalent (and edible! and nutritious!) weed that look like this:

And boy are they tasty. I've had lambsquarters before, raw, right out of the ground as I was yanking them out of places they were not supposed to be. I never found them to be that impressive. But jeez... when a whole mess of 'em are cooked up, it's like the very best spinach I've ever had. And they are everywhere, and kindly require absolutely no effort by me to help them thrive so I can eat them. So I had those on hand, as well as these wild onions

 which we gleaned on a quick trip down to North Carolina. We stumbled upon them while hiking and thought they looked suspiciously like some sort of allium. I yanked one out, gave it a sniff, and sure enough, oniony-garlicky. A little taste yielded the same results. I helped myself to a handful and brought them home with me.

And thanks to these here chickies

we do have a constant supply of fresh eggs. So voila! Ingredients!!

I knew there was something I could do with this stuff in the micro/convection oven. I cheated a little because I was starving and didn't think just greens and eggs were gonna cut it. I buttered some rye bread and lined a round pie pan with it:

And then threw a bunch of lambsquarters on top. How much, you ask? A couple handfuls or so. I added them raw, because, well, I had no way of cooking them down first. It didn't seem to hinder the overall effect I was going for. On top of the greens I sprinked the chopped up wild oniony-garlicky things.

Then in my finest china I combined 4 eggs, a splash of cream, some hot sauce, salt & pepper, dried tarragon and mustard to make it seem French or something.

I beat that all together and poured it over the greens and bread and baked it for about 20 minutes @ 350. It definitely could have used more eggs, but I'm sure the skimpyness of it contributed to the ultra-fast cooking time. When it came out it looked like this:

and was quite tasty. Not over-the-top amazing by any means, but a totally satisfying meal mainly comprised of scavenged produce and stolen eggs.

Who's This Blogger?

Hey there! I'm Meagan, welcome to my new blog! I thought I'd use this first entry as a "getting to know me" section. My husband, myself, and our 2 kitties are currently living in this RV

on this tiny organic farm in Illinois.

We are full-time interns for the season. This is our second hard-core internship. We spent all of last season working, learning, and eating on this farm

in Western North Carolina. It was an absolutely phenomenal place to live, filled with rich culture and astounding beauty and tons of super cool people who think and live like us. But we are originally from the Chicagoland area and missed our friends and family too dearly to put down roots so far away. So now here we are, trying to enjoy the strange novelty of the Illinois flatlands and savoring time spent with those we love most.

I am a total foodie, a bit of a health nut (by current societal standards anyway, which isn't saying much) and really want to do right by my planet. All of these factors contributed to my husband and I becoming CSA members while we were in college. We were worker shares, so instead of paying money we went out to the farm each week for about 3-4 hours in exchange for a big ole' box of fresh, local, organic produce. It was our first hands-on experience of growing our own food, and we fell in love. After we graduated we had "real jobs" for a moment, and then decided we wanted an adventure. Farm internships seemed to promise that, as well as a brand new kind of education, and even some pocket change and accommodations to boot. Hubby discovered the ATTRA website (National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service- you tell me how this acronym works) which offers a plethora of such opportunities. We applied, were accepted, sold or freecycled most of our belongings, packed up our cars and kitties and moved to the mountains. And then moved to Connecticut for the winter. And then moved back to Illinois. And now we are uber-interns, trying to figure out how we can become real farmers. Preferably by next season.

So come join me on this journey! I envision this blog to be an amalgamation of food, farming, and random moments that make up my life. It's all intertwined even more than I realize; I had intended on this blog focusing solely on recipes I created featuring food I have grown, but I live on the farm and work on the farm, and all of that goes into each meal I make. And boy, I can't wait for all these little seedlings everywhere to get big enough for me to eat. Ah, tomato season... so close and yet so far...