Live and Learn

Last fall we found an awesome apple tree to forage from.

It's in a city park along a trail and we saw it was loaded with fruit!

So we went to help ourselves.  (If memory serves me right I'm almost entirely sure that I was not yet pregnant while climbing this tree, maybe.)

We took home such a haul!  And were equally excited to head back to our favorite forgotten apple tree this year to gather more.  There was just one problem.

There were no apples.

Seriously!  We pulled about four edible apples off the tree, there were probably like 12-18 we could see up in the tree that were in various states of not-good-looking-ness.  And that was it!

We were so confused.  It should have been harvest season.

Where were all the apples?

Then entered my latest bedside table reading material:  The Holistic Orchard, by Michael Phillips

Yeah, I also dream of orchards.  If I was to be a subsistence farmer--I wouldn't farm--I would orchard.  (That being said with all my orcharding experience of the one time we went to a u-pick apple orchard when I was sixteen.)  But I'm talking about dream.  I dream of deciduous trees and crisp autumn days, apple cider pressing, and big pots of apple butter boiling over bonfires. . .

Anyway, reading this book is amazing.  I've been learning tons of information about my future apple trees.  I'm glad to be reading it now, because of how much preparatory information there is.  But there was also a fascinating section about rehabilitating "wild" apple trees.

Apparently (insert eyebrow waggle here) apple trees left to their own devices will naturally fall into a biennial bearing pattern.  Essentially, well-established trees usually produce a ton of fruit and if the crop is not thinned out all the energy goes into producing the current huge crop of apples, and not saving energy for next year.  So only after a "year off", the tree is ready to bear again.  . . . Fascinating!

So our question was answered.

I've also been learning a lot about soil fungi, mycorriza and such, that are essential for fruit tree health. A happy web through the soil that breaks down and makes available more nutrients to the roots of the trees.

And wouldn't you know, I was turning over piles of straw in the backyard that I'd watered for a month or two and I audibly gasped! 

Look at all that happy "fungal duff"--as the author calls it.

White webs under the layer of straw that had been left there just a few months.  So now I can trust the author's recommendations of mulching to create a heathly fungal community in the future when I have fruit trees. 

But I don't have them right now.  So why was I watering piles of straw in my backyard? 

Well, I was trying to grow fall potatoes, and had read this great tip for easier harvest.  Mound your potatoes with straw! I thought that did sound like it would make for an easy harvest. 

So as my potato plants grew I mounded them with straw, until they all keeled over and died. 

(Who knows why.  I think that even though the weather cooled down, it was still too shady in my little glen of a backyard.)  I finally figured I would go turn over the piles of straw and see if --even though the vines were dead--maybe that early vigorous growth produced some little potatoes that were just hiding in the  hay, waiting for me to harvest. (I'm not really that disillusion--it was a garden autopsy for sure.)

But sure enough. . .

Look at those little beauties.

And true to the Pinterest tip--it was a very easy harvest. 

One day (when I'm 40) I'm going to get an awesome piece of property to build a little homestead on, and it's going to be the most successful piece of property you ever saw.  The success of which will be attributed to all the years and years of knowledge I am accumulating and archiving, from the school of hard knocks. 

I Eat Weeds (And So Can You)

 Weeds?

I noticed a new young patch of lamb's quarters growing in the back yard, so I thought we would give them a try.  I'd heard that you cook them up and eat them like you would spinach.  But I usually eat spinach raw, so I needed to look up a recipe.

Sandra Lee had a recipe for Parmesan Creamed Spinach, with pumpkin pie spice.  That sounded too interesting to not try.

 We picked the leaves off their stems and washed them in a big sink of water.  (Owen spun them dry--he's the resident salad spinner.)  Then added the lamb's quarter to the cream sauce.

Jeremy walked by and decided what it needed was toast. . . and perhaps a fried egg?

 It was delicious.  They just tasted like greens with a cream sauce.  No strong flavor in any direction.  Not bitter like dandelion greens.  Jeremy suggested next we could try them baked in lasagna--that's the only other cooked spinach recipe we can think of and it should work fine.

Eaten anything adventurous lately?

Trust the Chickens

 We let our chickens roam free in our backyard almost every day.  They love to scratch all through our yard, eating bugs and grass.

We noticed last summer that there was a certain weed that they also liked eating.  We would pick them and hold them out for the chickens to eat.  And they would seek them out on their own as well. 

A week ago I was reading a blog that identified (all the way down at the bottom) our mystery weed as lamb's quarters.   I'd heard of lamb's quarters before as a wild edible suitable for people to eat as well.  I guess we'll have to give them a try sometime.  

The scientific name is chenopodium album and lots of people eat it in any way they would eat spinach or other greens.  Some people even plant certain varieties of it where it doesn't grow naturally. 

I guess the chickens aren't as dumb as people think--maybe we should pay closer attention from now on to whatever else the chickens are eating as well. 

Urban Foraging: Spring Dandelion Greens and Jelly

If you've ever bought a bag of salad called a "Spring Mix" you may have noticed something in the bag that looked suspiciously similar to dandelion leaves.  Well, you were right--it was dandelion greens.  Dandelions (yeah--the ones that grow outside) are perfectly edible.  The green leaves can be eaten alone or mixed in with other lettuces.  They need to be picked before the plant flowers for them to be the most tender and the least bitter.  They are still bitter--I won't lie--Jeremy and I were sampling our patch in the backyard yesterday.  But added to a mix of lettuces and with a nice vinaigrette dressing they could make fore a completely edible salad.  And hey--they are free.

You always want to make sure they haven't been sprayed with chemicals or anything, but most places that you see overgrown with dandelions don't have that problem (or they wouldn't be there). 

I've wanted to make Dandelion Blossom Jelly since I first saw the idea a year ago.  (And violet jelly, maybe that's next.)  I love the idea of foraging the unimpressive and turning it into something useful for my family.

 Though I was doubtful--we found enough dandelions in just our yard.  This is great since we know our yard is un-sprayed.

4 cups of blossoms.

Grab the base of the bud. with scissors cut off the top of the dandelion.  This is just petals, let them fall into a bowl and discard the green bud.  You should end up with around 2 cups of petals. 

Dandelion Jelly
3 cups boiling water
2-3 cups dandelion petals
3 Tbsp lemon juice
1 box Sure*Jell pectin
4 1/2 cups sugar

Pour boiling water over petals.  Allow mixture to steep a few hours until it has returned to room temperature and taken on a nice yellow color.  Strain water into a liquid measuring cup.  Add lemon juice and any additional water needed to bring total to 3 cups dandelion infused water. 

Follow directions for making "cooked jelly" from the pectin box for instructions on adding the pectin and sugar and water-bath processing the jars. 

The jelly is delicious.  I've heard it described as tasting like straight honey.  If you've ever eaten one of those flavored honey sticks at the market I would say that's an accurate comparison. 

I took the advice of Marisa and canned the jelly in a variety of jars, so I have different options for presentation or gifting.

I love the sunny color and think the whole project is just perfectly novel!

Urban Foraging

I looked up at the tree as I walked by.  Little clumps of pears staring back down at me.  I noticed a couple on the ground outside the fence.

"Maybe I should pick those up"


As I looked at the tree over my shoulder while I continued walking by I watched a pear fall right to the grass.

That was a direct invitation from the tree.

I walked over to the grass parking strip, picked up the four good-looking ones and continued on my way home.

I had to cut off a few bruised spots from their falls, and a few bug spots (at least I know they don't have pesticides on them) and they were delicious.

It's always amazing to taste a fruit in season and naturally ripened.  If it's possible, it simply tastes more like a pear.  Sweet and crisp and delicious.

I followed the same route home again today, and found four fresh pears waiting for me, just ripened since yesterday.