tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9901063781278135922024-02-19T06:50:41.225-08:00fledgling foodJohannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-23526418920769237752009-04-04T09:40:00.000-07:002009-04-04T13:01:48.245-07:00Operation Salad: Take 1<span style="font-size:100%;">I have a keen recollection of a conversation that transpired on a houseboat shanty on the Thames that my f</span><span style="font-size:100%;">riend <a href="http://www.persephonebooks.co.uk/">Laura</a> was living on</span><span style="font-size:100%;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Her </span><span style="font-size:100%;">friend Somerset was raving about the salads she was growing in pots in her garden. Fresh lettuce, she enthused, was the most glorious thing on a hot summer's day. When I moved to an apartment with a roof deck last fall, this salad concept remained at the back of my mind.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHn0UGy0XLOAxIS6_FD5lGATFy1URXPWCiEifSQdlIL5s_5nQlcp2sz3Xfs-x6_ZwDegH6MxsomgM7Ee2ryh-YXdsbXHO8dQTH7_lphpdNRkfIpfXAqmXKxfRaiTHq0NqYLmYy5CNPIbzj/s1600-h/DSC_1316.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHn0UGy0XLOAxIS6_FD5lGATFy1URXPWCiEifSQdlIL5s_5nQlcp2sz3Xfs-x6_ZwDegH6MxsomgM7Ee2ryh-YXdsbXHO8dQTH7_lphpdNRkfIpfXAqmXKxfRaiTHq0NqYLmYy5CNPIbzj/s200/DSC_1316.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320907862845885522" border="0" /></a>And now that winter seems to have finally thawed, and the neighborhood is bright with forsythias and clusters of daffodils, I decided to take action. Despite a li</span><span style="font-size:100%;">mited amount of <a href="http://fledglingfood.blogspot.com/2008/07/tomato-love.html">gardening experience</a>, I was nevertheless eager to start my little urban garden from seed. So I traipsed along to the <a href="http://www.bbg.org/">Brooklyn Botanical Garden</a> and bought some organic dirt and a few <a href="http://www.seedsofchange.com/">Seeds of Change</a> packets -- chives, basil, re</span><span style="font-size:100%;">d ridinghood lettuce (which is supposed to tolerate sunny rooftop climes) and beetberry (whose leaves are supposedly tasty.) On Thur</span><span style="font-size:100%;">sday, however, I was slightly disheartened to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/02/garden/02starter.html?_r=1&ref=garden">read</a> in the <i>NY Times</i> Home & Garden section that this is the biggest conglomerate of organic seed sellers in the country. So much for </span><span style="font-size:100%;">mom and pop seeds. But then I happened to pop by the <a href="http://foodcoop.com/">co-op</a> later that day and discovered that they sell <a href="http://fedcoseeds.com/">Fedco seeds </a>which were not only produced on a smaller scale but are also designed to be planted in Maine's hardy northern climes. The more rugged the seeds, the better, I figure. And they cost o</span><span style="font-size:100%;">nly 98 cents per packet, about a quarter of the price of Seeds of Change. So I scored some "Pink Lettucy Mustard" Greens, and some Sweet Pea flowers, which are now happily installed in a pot of soil on my fire escape.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYa8bXuliWt_Cg2sYUGKUOA8FmPZUZTPZvpSqOiRNIpDOsI7gOJVPl15iPazVOzpy4BkK7slUOV4cTgiRR77BhtfmWfH78QU1wVbGQVaUfwMk4-OvrhBju7Mo0jiGf8rIP1oyzQVgHAdik/s1600-h/DSC_1299.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYa8bXuliWt_Cg2sYUGKUOA8FmPZUZTPZvpSqOiRNIpDOsI7gOJVPl15iPazVOzpy4BkK7slUOV4cTgiRR77BhtfmWfH78QU1wVbGQVaUfwMk4-OvrhBju7Mo0jiGf8rIP1oyzQVgHAdik/s320/DSC_1299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320909823666173250" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">I had been saving a few empty egg cartons to start my seedlings in, but was dismayed to realize that the 12 slots per carton would only technically accommodate about 24 seeds. Apparently, you are only supposed to plant a couple of seeds per little soil nodule. Since each seed packet holds about 50 seeds, I began to panic. We would have to eat a lot </span><span style="font-size:100%;">of eggs -- and fast -- in order to free up the kind of space required by my recent seed purchases. I quickly came to my senses and dashed out to the hardware store to buy a tray of 60 starter cells made of cardboard-y stuff that supposedly disintegrates when planted in dirt. I also decided that given my inexperience, I would seed each cell with say, 4 o</span><span style="font-size:100%;">r 5 seeds, just in case. I hope that I do not come to regret this unorthodox decision. Apparently, the thing to do is wait until the seeds begin to sprout and then cut back all but the strongest seedling so that if can flourish fully in its cell before being transferred to the garden, ahem, terra cotta pot on the roof.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">At the hardware store, I checked out the inventory of said pots. The pickings were slim, but the lady in charge assured me that she would be getting in a new shipment in a week or so. I inquired about a couple of quirky looking pots in the corner -- one blue and white glazed, with minor crack down the side, the other quite shallow and attractively polka-dotted green. The lady explained that they were just left-overs from last year and offered</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> them to me for free. Score. Since they did not have holes in the bottom for drainage, however, she suggested that I fill the bottoms with pebbles. I then bought a $5 bag of rocks, which felt rather odd, but never mind. I have a feeling that that foraging for rocks in Prospect Park is more challenging and/or illicit than it sounds.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-uq7yy5I3sS7IAS5AtOqnXhYCdA8CCDIMWaaynrJZCvh-3Z_wv5hlh5aCudsYvj6G4uCGWC5Cxo0JPMoX56tFZslcZ69TDiVKFTPK-uchNYSsGi-FOG2cK0Pb5nAX45hTQVxubRvaeia/s1600-h/DSC_1311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-uq7yy5I3sS7IAS5AtOqnXhYCdA8CCDIMWaaynrJZCvh-3Z_wv5hlh5aCudsYvj6G4uCGWC5Cxo0JPMoX56tFZslcZ69TDiVKFTPK-uchNYSsGi-FOG2cK0Pb5nAX45hTQVxubRvaeia/s320/DSC_1311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320909324599900946" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">I began by filling an egg carton with dirt and then poking a few (ok, several) chive seeds into each cell. I then watered the carton profusely, as the chive packet suggested that "consistent, even moisture" is essential in the sprouting phase. The dirt seemed to repel the water, however, and I wound up having to kind of stir each pot to distribute the water with the end of a fork. Concerned that the seeds were buried deeper than the recommended 1/4 inch, I decided to revise my tactic and pre-water the soil going forward. I dumped a bunch of soi</span><span style="font-size:100%;">l into a Ziploc baggie and watered it, squeezing it like dough. I then proceeded to pack it into each cell and rather gingerly add the seed. Although a slightly worrying amount of dirt that washed down my kitchen sink, I reckon that this method was superior.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">So now my seeds are all set up on windowsills around my apartment. Nothing much seems to have happened yet. I spritz them daily and hope that something green transpires shortly. In the meanwhile, I am considering composti</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ng.</span>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-38057771016644260382008-11-17T08:42:00.000-08:002009-04-04T11:53:01.248-07:00How To Cut Up A Pig<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Yesterday, I saw a half a pig cut up before my very eyes.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">At a <a href="http://www.slowfood.com/">Slow Food</a> event at the <a href="http://www.iceculinary.com/?engine=adwords%218383&keyword=%28ice+new+york%29&match_type=&gclid=CN-4uZTm_JYCFQrFGgodS0wNXw">Institute for Culinary Education</a> (ICE), master butcher Rudi Weid broke down a small Berkshire pig that had lived a good life up at Tamarack Hollow Farm in Vermont. Proceeds from the event benefitted <a href="http://www.slowfoodusa.org/index.php/slow_food/blog_post/harvest_time_in_harlem/">Slow Food Harvest Time education programs</a> in East Harlem and Williamsburg, Brooklyn. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2g0xYn9CNETwBvjo1dlxtfDbQqvGWXbU6VWCHKv39Ytle2ZAC-lthFz47HsFVeUw4MIPuKR7gBD1U6h743lNh3A6ZKxOtk0r3iJVUkrEMBZXjpXdZnKYC8uHGgMOsGF2EHZEcS8xat73/s400/ebonyivory.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269683805240767298" border="0" /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Butcher Weid not only wielded the knife masterfully (as well as a handsaw and cleaver, both passed down to him from his father, from whom he learned his craft), but also proffered a unique perspective. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Although the somewhat self-selected crowd - those eager to watch pig butchery on a sunny Sunday afternoon - was probably already passionate about sustainable food production, Weid talked a lot about the differences between industrial pork and the heritage, happy pork we were about to enjoy. He mostly talked in concrete butcher's terms about the difference in the color and feel of different qualities of meat, though, which kept it interesting. He recalled butchering a pig for a North Carolina demonstration, for example, where the pork was flecked with little exploded red synapses (correct terminology?) as it had been severely stressed when it was butchered. He noted that the beef of cows who had suffered in death was typically extremely dark.<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">He didn't dwell on the injustice of cruelty to animals, as one might have expected, but simply got on with it. When someone from the audience asked him how one becomes a butcher today, and how long one typically apprenticed, he paused and, ever stoic, held up a box cutter. "This is what you need to become a butcher today," he said. "It's all pre-cut. Just open the box." He seemed highly dubious that the art of butchery would be revived by the legions of slow food enthusiasts any time soon. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">But Weid seemed very happy with the quality of our pig's meat. It was a good deal darker and firmer than supermarket "meat," he noted. He pulled out the kidney and the internal fat (leaf lard) then cut off the head, indicating that it would make a mighty fine head cheese. He then cut off the hind leg (ham) and delicately deboned it. He moved up to the front quarters, where he removed the shoulder (aka Boston butt) and front leg (picnic ham). He proceeded in a most sculptor-like fashion to the center cut, which is apparently the only section of the pig typically sold in supermarkets these days. Weid gracefully pulled off the spare ribs, carved off thick strips of back and belly fat, and finally extracted the loin with babyback ribs still attached. This large rib roast is where you find the - you guessed it - pork chops, should you choose to cut it into pieces. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSxmNNoMeg3-iI-x-m_hgQ4BKakUGMIFbjmGmpVI2ftEpcsaQ1uxM20iQWfjSBIi86IRgpnlKs1uRF6puftHEvoa0nhOvTz_Nzr6np2riCi-gZu-fy1ZUBHuZbbMrFRM994NVjfJlFx4C/s400/Cuts-of-Pork-Chart.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269685607147357906" border="0" /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">After the lengthly demonstration, we were served lovely bits of the other half of the pig that had already been prepared: the ham (which bore no resemblance to the ham of my childhood Chistmas dinners, rosy and smooth but was rather turkey-like, white and somewhat dry.) Also, the shoulder, and super fatty belly, and the insane crackling, which was like chicken skin squared. At the same time, </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.rogue.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span">Rogue Ales</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"> conducted a little tasting. We tried the </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.rogue.com/beers/juniper-pale-ale.php"><span class="Apple-style-span">Juniper Pale Ale</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">, which was my favorite - refreshing and herbal, the </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.rogue.com/beers/american-amber.php"><span class="Apple-style-span">American Amber Ale,</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"> which was sort of round and coffee-like, and the </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.rogue.com/beers/st-rogue-red.php"><span class="Apple-style-span">Satin Rogue Red,</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"> which I thought tasted like horses (and not necessarily in a good way) and the which Rogue lady described as resin-y. Dry hops are added to it after it been brewed, so it has this extremely hoppy thing going on. Finally, we tried the </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.rogue.com/beers/chocolate-stout.php"><span class="Apple-style-span">Chocolate Stout</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">, which was </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">so</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"> chocolately and kind of creamy. I liked it a lot but thought it would have paired better with chocolate cake than with pork. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-64057062673106169782008-09-14T14:43:00.000-07:002009-04-04T11:53:19.807-07:00Jammin'<span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlbBdujLPnP1qsPrjlXt4QLLcoxakEoIa6pNAC_AJ3V_LXe_bUvChLtjXZzc0q_lxF9ndPYr00laUZMJeUho4AFRjHPE_JgsEin1IAoVBmXpB9UJUlL1n6TkrUdTH9i1cqyMr_u7BtCHt/s1600-h/DSC_1080.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlbBdujLPnP1qsPrjlXt4QLLcoxakEoIa6pNAC_AJ3V_LXe_bUvChLtjXZzc0q_lxF9ndPYr00laUZMJeUho4AFRjHPE_JgsEin1IAoVBmXpB9UJUlL1n6TkrUdTH9i1cqyMr_u7BtCHt/s400/DSC_1080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245996166188047762" border="0" /></a><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">There is something about the sudden shift towards fall -- the slight nip in the air, the rustle of drying leaves overhead, drained somewhat of their bright green color -- that makes me feel a little frantic to preserve what's left of summer. Summer's bounty, that is. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">So I recently got with the times and started making all manners of jam. Thus far I have made shiro plum-vanilla, apricot-brown sugar and cherry tomato-cinnamon. I finally acquired a fantastic book on jam that everyone raves about, </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mes-Confitures-Jellies-Christine-Ferber/dp/0870136291/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1221429591&sr=8-1"><span class="Apple-style-span">Mes Confitures</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;"> by Christine Ferber, who lives in Alsace and is pretty much the world's authority on jam, and who has proved quite the inspiration. There are so many recipes in the book that I am eager to try. I had better get with it, too, because locally grown fruit (with the obvious exception of apples and pears) is quickly beginning to vanish from my local <a href="http://foodcoop.com/">co-op</a>. Blackberries and blue, which were for a moment so plentiful, are nowhere to be seen. One recipe that I am particularly keen to try is apple-celery-mountain honey, which sounds intriguingly alpine.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Blue Apron Fine Foods in Park Slope has started carrying my cherry tomato jam. I'll be conducting a tasting there on October 4th -- do come by! </span></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-73476932393413351632008-08-02T13:01:00.001-07:002008-08-02T13:08:34.850-07:00zucchini blossoms<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBHXtlM0vheOQdCtGaQpigm2RnQ7oCXgXKWQJPgt4_l6qB6AxgXRfsb-y4H9x1ZInKIqDv1Cd-1LqndxUQ31SYUwFB4iA6-f5PqKINIGPCoF4DtmNQ5iw_yL8bfo471A3eB7tte-XSPFKj/s1600-h/DSC_1040.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBHXtlM0vheOQdCtGaQpigm2RnQ7oCXgXKWQJPgt4_l6qB6AxgXRfsb-y4H9x1ZInKIqDv1Cd-1LqndxUQ31SYUwFB4iA6-f5PqKINIGPCoF4DtmNQ5iw_yL8bfo471A3eB7tte-XSPFKj/s400/DSC_1040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230014541243856610" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />snagged these lovely blossoms at the farmers' market this morning...</span>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-90660503029406057062008-08-02T12:49:00.000-07:002008-08-02T13:01:14.217-07:00neighborhood fruit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xg53ffv2AsH782nFTKI6m85jGo68MjJKPXxtBMDIRItcifurc98oQDKdIxBkQbc1G2u55qftGK52zdw9t0kfUpkeO5IlKvBiuSCRUQrBRcaKlUCSY2R3Is3vIJrAonmsmuNzAack_3tn/s1600-h/DSC_1007.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xg53ffv2AsH782nFTKI6m85jGo68MjJKPXxtBMDIRItcifurc98oQDKdIxBkQbc1G2u55qftGK52zdw9t0kfUpkeO5IlKvBiuSCRUQrBRcaKlUCSY2R3Is3vIJrAonmsmuNzAack_3tn/s400/DSC_1007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230011775387181826" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />I spied this laden peach tree while walking down 4th Avenue the other day (corner of Bergen St.? - must verify). It appeared to be part of a community garden and was quite ripe for the picking! Was proud to see that New York has plenty of fallen fruit, too! Admittedly, my sources tell me that Los Angeles is positively dripping with it. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is organized to the extent that </span><a href="http://fallenfruit.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Fallen Fruit</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> has compiled incredibly detailed </span><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msa=0&msid=102331422430006533119.00043fb4eff6788c57933"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">maps</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> indicating where the loquats lurk. </span><div><br /></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-81385505760375521662008-07-15T08:01:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:44:00.319-07:00vertical farm<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWw2Q3U9lvR2wGuTK_TXN0XzjL29Sa6P91-xFLQVfOLFyhV2ql93o2zrcDfaluYrtqa9BRyAnpbuRqrI4g9XoKThRsUK2QbQ4iiiIziQz7Ub7Im8K1tjet0wwkiQry1CCLxXimJ9vsSOu/s1600-h/24040041.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWw2Q3U9lvR2wGuTK_TXN0XzjL29Sa6P91-xFLQVfOLFyhV2ql93o2zrcDfaluYrtqa9BRyAnpbuRqrI4g9XoKThRsUK2QbQ4iiiIziQz7Ub7Im8K1tjet0wwkiQry1CCLxXimJ9vsSOu/s400/24040041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223256807770872306" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/15/science/15farm.html?8ur&emc=ur"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> story in today's NY Times about buildings as vertical farms is so great. Sky scrapers would rely solely on renewable energy like solar and wind, and could provide sustenance for thousands of people. </span><a href="http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/wall-e/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wall-e </span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">would be heartened, I'm sure, to imagine a city built of edible plants, instead of garbage. Take that, New Museum '</span><a href="http://www.newmuseum.org/exhibitions/399/after_nature"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After Nature</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">' exhibition. This seems like the ultimate manifestation of urban gardening - imagine reaching out the window of your office cubicle and plucking a fresh cucumber for lunch.<br /><br />On a similar note, I'm looking forward to heading over to PS 1 to check out </span><a href="http://www.ps1.org/ps1_site/content/view/38/76/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">PF 1</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> (public farm 1), an urban farm concept, complete with a chicken coop, that evokes the look of "a flying carpet landing in the PS 1 courtyard." PF 1 was the Young Architect Project's winning project this year, and is the design concept of husband and wife team </span><a href="http://www.work.ac/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">WORK architecture</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span><br /><div><div><div>.<img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXMi50in4fDDBwepKTmnPvenzcDDmOxh8ZoDX_AQ6lumiQoNgsW3pfOIwRt2bdAWlkyxo-TjucU9ijZTI3GL7QChTAmcuNxXHQr1OaFlOCSrn4ob_IvVKWDCYJENb-t8FiPojd_Yizlxh/s400/PS+Farm+with+view+of+water+pool+and+tower+photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223259381351505250" /></div></div></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-86560084163966592552008-07-11T08:44:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:45:31.131-07:00tomato love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pvteX0uLb5Ascy-FxiOiZFZ5F2hVZC01s89HfShAEfFqTUm1TbZ82w3T7l8r91j8pRfbXvwk9bhhRx1E_5X6rzYAeTkiNclMs4H_0mt6ikqUfrebRTzYXdlX2WFOOdGiZSfpgzbfgDCW/s1600-h/P1000093.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pvteX0uLb5Ascy-FxiOiZFZ5F2hVZC01s89HfShAEfFqTUm1TbZ82w3T7l8r91j8pRfbXvwk9bhhRx1E_5X6rzYAeTkiNclMs4H_0mt6ikqUfrebRTzYXdlX2WFOOdGiZSfpgzbfgDCW/s400/P1000093.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221792475610631698" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br />Spent yesterday <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zGotkK_hEF7IsTmQDxEWSstpkaPKbc9PcsocQ393P960IQuWtxxSZOgqeJ1xJ9frSKXGI_8u8GYa3V6FcmioFfFwiHWBGI2TSJzctJ6OqhixL1rYBpG7zvnQtG9vuKwYsXVm0S4EFcjN/s200/P1000101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221791072605164626" />morning tending the garden my little brother and I planted at my dad's house</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. The little tomato seedlings have grown dramatically in just a few weeks, and many of the lower branches are already beaded with small green tomatoes. It seems as though the tomatoes like to lay relatively low. We planted a good spread of heirlooms and hybrid varietals -- Sweet 100, Black Russian, Early Girl, Better Boy, the requisite Beefsteak. Although this is the third summer we have planted this garden, we are still decidedly amateur: as might seem obvious from these pictures, space limitations and gardening zeal resulted in the unfortunate (yet familiar) effect of overcrowding. The crooked, leafy arms of the plants had grown thoroughly entangled, and many slouched low to the ground, unable to support their own weight. The web of green emits an incredibly heady scent of tomato-y goodness, smelling more intensely like tomatoes than the fruit themselves. That said, it was a bit of a job to gingerly pry them apart and steady them upright with stakes and those neat metal basket contraptions. A few limbs were accidentally snapped and had to be unceremoniously cast aside. I nipped the rampant clover-like weed's from the bed, showered the freshly-secured plants with the watering can and finally secured them with fairly high security chicken-wire-esque fencing, necessary to ward off the wily local suburban rabbit population. A shadier bed across the way boasts thriving cucumber and melon plants, bountiful basil, parsley and chives, and some shriveled dill, which I can't quite figure out if it requires more water or sun...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScmbIVgqehoNWU9RglLh6MkvskOX_vwsM1qYqcrilryFk26lLpvWmFGlrlJpqCPzw1KDzXQBTzkW8-aACYwB3OhrGPymP-8i0fuRUk5iUheo0wvP7mnCua0C_PbPxGlbhAI6MaZ6KuEzd/s400/P1000095.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221792486656612034" /></span>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-24063925504497387592008-05-29T06:55:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:48:11.633-07:00aeolian bounty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVhAVAwl0bYfp8N2XikajHP5B0VVkO18DiosH40NRCQI3I_GSc1xZ4hu7QR73wH19sAha7TlXK-LPKRoq-Swf2HEKzaC95yCLrYrxd1CYrQCA9xWFYlkJXLJ_u_EdbL0hfhcK-xCwEk78R/s1600-h/DSC_0976.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVhAVAwl0bYfp8N2XikajHP5B0VVkO18DiosH40NRCQI3I_GSc1xZ4hu7QR73wH19sAha7TlXK-LPKRoq-Swf2HEKzaC95yCLrYrxd1CYrQCA9xWFYlkJXLJ_u_EdbL0hfhcK-xCwEk78R/s400/DSC_0976.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205808113752424402" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZihRRAGeqCSVTJM6CAHKIIzFpNBDEqbDBSx_WgyMwEJ5p8vky_roe_pI-KKGdWBv2_FDdZgWqbMcbm_i4_wcjEsjz5jgdJRJaAbNEad32z6HktUebTVeKpaMkrNy7ssmeMkoYCB9THmD/s1600-h/DSC_0973.JPG"><img style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZihRRAGeqCSVTJM6CAHKIIzFpNBDEqbDBSx_WgyMwEJ5p8vky_roe_pI-KKGdWBv2_FDdZgWqbMcbm_i4_wcjEsjz5jgdJRJaAbNEad32z6HktUebTVeKpaMkrNy7ssmeMkoYCB9THmD/s400/DSC_0973.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205808118047391714" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've just returned from vacation in Panarea, the tiniest of the Aeolian Islands, just off the North coast of Sicily. The 1 million year old island feels pretty primordial, save for the small village stretched across three small hamlets, which is Greek in aspect (bright white stucco buildings, blue shutters, grapevines and bougainvillea cascading everywhere). Stunningly remote, situated between Lipari and Salina, the most developed of the islands (which are still relatively wild), and Stromboli, a still-active volcano which smokes moodily and sends sparks shooting into the clear night sky, the "traffic" is limited to just one or two boats a day -- especially in the low season. Most of the island is a designated nature reserve: cliffs jutting out of the almost navy blue sea; cacti and caper bushes abound. The island is impressively green in other senses as well: only electric "cars" (really golf carts) and scooters are able to squeeze through the fruit-tree shaded narrow lanes, and most of the inhabitants grow their own vegetable gardens, which sprout up in front and back yards, on terraces, and in between buildings like weeds. (Pictured above, a néspole tree, bearing fruits that I've never before come across that look a bit like apricots and taste more like papaya and are called "medlars" in english. Also, leaves of a burgeoning fig tree, the fruits plentiful, but sadly, still hard and green.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPSjgSaTQmOKeO4UI2FMYDMitTZ8R_4xOcbk26U5GNDthEEWACG6wGLRq1la8Tht4dXM9X0-6yqe-17rqALlIASTCfyZEdEmxGbqyVpcClcTSLssxm0zezADOwtv8d0A598nGj4yUKUka/s400/DSC_0956.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205809097299935266" /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Witness flourishing - and flowering! - zucchini plants.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8d6rWVS5JzoDb0X6EfbRX97KFzq4REhjMF7YiYtr7mdz7VIN3VRbCLsH06AhiWWIky0QRuZSl1eL3rNqUz7mRawUKKHv4hV7FjN20aR7GdrZRppKtY9PQktgmFpESWRG-ZlmBhO19Zr2Q/s400/DSC_0971.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205809071530131442" /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9qtnwKl6I8P-svRjzhTjk5nWf-KFPrzSHrfvsP5cyrOinIUbcSk1YS5C9PNkWbG-5IE8ac0tF8Wh3bsUkBPbixa4Wls7RdRICMuRr-ZCqswD9hZet2lgqg1DhrnfT2R2qwWq9R2CN0_3/s400/DSC_0972.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205809084415033346" /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A clever - and I think chic - way to stake tomatoes. </span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW2e5xM-JhNwcjO-33LwOWlsamqalI8goPDPWIP5B7ayEb_FNFQTCRvncjNtTI46Z4Oz0Ot9-9l5cHLK6u4BYkkcbKQZsy71lH8OIZYm-QrqJYcwwBO2H3QBhU6dYj9PsNv4rqZF-8Ufe/s400/DSC_0970.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205809088710000658" /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A little bit of this and that -- fennel, lettuce, red onions....The soil is dry but rich and the sun is so strong! Sicily is the Southern-most point in Europe -- in fact, much of it is further South than Tunis, Tunisia.</span></div></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-7585484935193120622008-05-03T20:04:00.001-07:002008-09-15T06:48:56.022-07:00i scream, you scream<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3W5DPMU-yuDeDIIToSCbsH-pIulnOITjD-PXAq-bSjnWAXFMZFp9qCoXV8uyxF411MKexDYpScFLncXIO39eRSVPcCyrU6UELgwzLQNeXNXN6Q1ghRY9rnNYc-I7oWLvjTYK7YYzqAaF/s1600-h/sundae.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3W5DPMU-yuDeDIIToSCbsH-pIulnOITjD-PXAq-bSjnWAXFMZFp9qCoXV8uyxF411MKexDYpScFLncXIO39eRSVPcCyrU6UELgwzLQNeXNXN6Q1ghRY9rnNYc-I7oWLvjTYK7YYzqAaF/s400/sundae.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196356511044389602" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Word on the street is that </span><a href="http://www.bluemarbleicecream.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Blue Marble Ice Cream</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> of Boerum Hill is due to start making appearances at </span><a href="http://www.brownstoner.com/brooklynflea/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Brooklyn Flea</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> next week. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Plus, they are opening a new branch at 186 Underhill Ave. in Prospect Heights. This is great news all around as the ice cream shop's hip young owners, Jennie Dundas and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Alexis Meisin, are committed to using sustainable ingredients, including grass-fed Ronnybrook milk, and materials in their shops. I also appreciate their discipline in keeping their flavor options short and sweet. </span><div>(illustration credit: <a href="http://little-doodles.blogspot.com/">Kate Wilson</a>)</div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-56414374752733050482008-05-03T19:37:00.000-07:002008-05-03T19:57:12.520-07:00spring sprung<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOwo2p0xaQlZyrzv0xgQLpqyyuurpqcnjTuQGIcYbiGpx1w5__EbAu-a6ZY-wQ6FFaSW5gpyRh0BrsDX51irmnDfzGtnYqf0kAuWmMKGayBykaVD2S-GvvvHS50p44yAOo6IFBhTT6rsB/s1600-h/23_atm_lg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihOwo2p0xaQlZyrzv0xgQLpqyyuurpqcnjTuQGIcYbiGpx1w5__EbAu-a6ZY-wQ6FFaSW5gpyRh0BrsDX51irmnDfzGtnYqf0kAuWmMKGayBykaVD2S-GvvvHS50p44yAOo6IFBhTT6rsB/s400/23_atm_lg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196351099385596626" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The first spring vegetables at the market these past few weeks have been a revelation. It seems like they sprung up literally out of nowhere. T.S. Eliot wrote, "April is the cruelest month," but frankly, I disagree. April -- and May -- are awesome. The slender asparagus and pink-stemmed clusters of dark crinkly spinach make me swoon while walking through the </span><a href="http://www.cenyc.org/greenmarket"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">greenmarket</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> after work. The most exciting produce I have gotten my hands on so far, I found at my local food </span><a href="http://foodcoop.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">co-op</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, interestingly enough. Ramps, fiddlehead ferns, and daylily shoots, oh my! As for the ramps, I nibbled them a bit but have yet to properly cook with them. The leaves -- which I'm not sure are technically edible, but never mind -- are very tasty. Mildly garlicky, with a similar texture to the daylily shoots, in fact, that I threw into a salad. I'm thinking ramp risotto. I guess I'm a little nervous about somehow wasting their glorious local springiness on an unworthy or muddled dish. But I'd better hop to it as they won't stay spry for long. Ramps on toast, anyone?</span><br /></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-69707581634323373022008-05-02T20:37:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:50:30.878-07:00flying fish<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I hate to keep citing the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Times </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">but the fact is that they are so on the ball when it comes to sustainable agriculture. A really solid story ran last week about the actual cost of </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/26/business/worldbusiness/26food.html?ex=1210046400&en=ce944d22cdc22314&ei=5070&emc=eta1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">shipping our food to and fro.</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> The piece explores the implications of catching fish in Norway, sending them to China to be filetted, and then flying them back to Norway to be sold, for example. </span><a href="http://www.newyorker.com/online/2008/02/25/080211on_audio_specter"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A more in depth piece </span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">examining how exactly food miles are racked up and what implications they might have (or not) ran in the New Yorker last month. <br /></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzX-W3rE_0h7TIPb-ku3V6xY6ggFTPcB0iOUpZU15uiwgIh9-L2H9NC0y2SIcnOXjLJl2C7JJ1uF_Dg-KqRhcebX7fS2Ux9iWGbYlEIs4-ZCPb0rt7zbfBFcOK-Hgh35ck-ba0TneAw89/s400/25203660-1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195995952834857666" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Apparently, they are using </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/27/us/27bragg.html?ex=1209873600&en=95dc92705cb573d8&ei=5070&emc=eta1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">mushrooms to soak up dioxin leached from a lumber mill</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> in Fort Bragg, CA. This story bears an uncanny resemblance to the plot of one of Hayao Miyazaki's first films, </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0087544/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Kaze no tani no Naushi</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-4726091434919439212008-05-02T18:37:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:53:06.113-07:00heirloom<blockquote></blockquote><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Some people think "heirloom" is just another word for "fancy," not realizing the great importance of preserving our heritage crops, admittedly a tiny sliver of the biodiversity of the earth that is rapidly decreasing, but one that is easy to relate to: you can </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">taste</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> the sweetness of saving and reintroducing these seeds and breeds. In this context, a heirloom is not necessarily a plant passed down through generations like a locket or a set of candle sticks, but rather an open-pollinated </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">cultivar</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Open pollination is pollination by natural means: via insects, birds or the wind. Because breeding is uncontrolled and the pollen (male) plant </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">unknown</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, open pollination results in increased variety in genetic traits and, indeed, increased biodiversity. This method was commonplace before industrial agriculture took hold. Before industrial </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">ag's</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> vast monoculture farms cloaked the countryside, a much wider variety of crops were raised, crops which were often deeply rooted in their particular </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">terroir</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">having adapted over time to their particular soil and climate conditions. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpKu0ri5_pQj99wSF2u3TAtwRLNLtGlHJMLd7YzdLNsrgBsiv2W2cwyBEybEvm_2NHzdiMvPb7RmS7VLoRhpT-Sq1ZNWJGf-J7TSOhtjkAri_91Ba-nQbSS7IMsIhjXYrjV8MLu0RMndn/s400/moonandstarswatermelon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195959909469309618" /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(photo credit: NY Times)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Kim </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Severson's</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> recent story in the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Times </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">spoke to the idea of </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/30/dining/30come.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">raising -- and eating -- heirloom and heritage species to keep them from going extinct</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. She references Gary Paul Nabhan's new book, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Renewing-Americas-Food-Traditions-Continents/dp/1933392894/ref=pd_bbs_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209869893&sr=8-1">Renewing America's Food Traditions: Saving and Savoring the Continent's Most Endangered Foods </a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(Chelsea Green), which explores the stories behind 93 endangered ingredients central to American culture and recipes that use them. The idea is that you've got to eat something to save it -- unless of course that something, like the flying squirrel, is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">so </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">endangered that it needs to be left alone for a bit. This article made me think back to the biodiversity class I took last year, in which we learned about conservation efforts that people were making to artificially bring scattered populations of orangutans, say, together in an effort to enlarge the gene pool in which they were cross-pollinating. It strikes me as strange -- if hugely important -- that we are taking strides to reconnect these small, isolated animal communities, mostly because it is of course due to humanity's own actions, in the form of rain forest deforestation or what might simply be called suburbia, that they became displaced. My biodiversity professor seemed certain that humans' time on earth was extremely limited, especially at the rate we are now polluting the planet. It is awfully sad how we as a species are the most destructive force on the planet, and how without humans, all of the other animal and plant kingdoms would seemingly flourish, keeping each other in check.</span></div><div><blockquote></blockquote></div></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-990106378127813592.post-43121960364115343732008-05-02T16:07:00.000-07:002008-09-15T06:53:39.820-07:00sustainable attainable<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZudUbRDei3eMcbmctkfgiZUoNfO7R8RVTqZdinTYohNKmmglDADLKkuxmTfGVSh_luajVbS0laeCJB5R2rwM7xLKJuxO3sIvIN0SyJGvHQsL0xOHTr06oAzN7pOgc_VlnL9xwdH8HdTA/s1600-h/zucchini.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZudUbRDei3eMcbmctkfgiZUoNfO7R8RVTqZdinTYohNKmmglDADLKkuxmTfGVSh_luajVbS0laeCJB5R2rwM7xLKJuxO3sIvIN0SyJGvHQsL0xOHTr06oAzN7pOgc_VlnL9xwdH8HdTA/s320/zucchini.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195924433039444514" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I so enjoyed Michael Pollan's recent <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">New York Times </span>article, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/magazine/20wwln-lede-t.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=pollan%20garden&st=nyt&oref=slogin">Why Bother</a>. </span>In fact, I had been kicking around the idea of growing herbs and maybe a veg or two on the roof. While not exactly the perfect roof for a garden -- note the slight slope and lack of formalities like a ledge or amenable surface not to mention patio furniture -- I am optimistic nonetheless. All the more so now that Pollan has made such a persuasive point about the importance of taking part in growing your own food, and the great sense of satisfaction and well-being it offers. I am ready for that. As I'm not sure how strong my roof is -- or if I'm even really 'allowed' up there -- I am thinking of planting in containers. Either low plastic trays. Or, because plastic is not my favorite material, old baskets. If I can find some old baskets that have low enough sides that they won't topple in the breeze, that is. As Pollan suggests, perhaps this might even inspire me to compost!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a related note, I am itching to acquire a copy of the recently published <a href="http://www.fritzhaeg.com/garden/initiatives/edibleestates/main.html">Edible Estates</a> by architect-activist Fritz Haeg (Metropolis Books). A beautiful book featuring front lawns laden with havestable gardens in lieu of vanity lawns. The project, which has been underway since July 2005, has transformed several lawns from Haeg's native Los Angeles to as far away as London. The book chronicles the metamorphoses of the first four front lawns. Oh, and Michael Pollan is one of its contributors.<br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGYusf1T3qzeLiw94sh9HXuZCWeLIu9ZA_Ta2F3nCa4mr5XVqw9SJk0xaKZVDtZsyBZdrcrPIkcbe-N1navRYYH3LaEGy274myut-ohR2XlWiCRnKDAorm0Xg8tHrOYeKG97jj2S-izPxh/s320/ee-book-cover-smth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195951899355302562" /></span></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10479304193602392581noreply@blogger.com0