Just thought I would share my excitment… 
Archive for March, 2007
The Dream Homestead
I like city living. I can take the train or bus just about anywhere. I can order Thai takeout or sushi at midnight. I can buy groceries at two in the morning just around the corner if I want to. I’m two blocks from the lake, with a beach. And I get my fill of the good life too– I garden in my apartment, I can finally make a decent pie, I knit, and we can go hiking within an hour’s drive of our place. But I do dream of having a few acres to spread out into a real farm. And not a hobby farm, but a real working enterprise. Just five or ten acres would suit me fine, and more than meet all of my dreams.
I’d like to own four or five head of small (dwarf/miniature) cattle, a couple of goats, a flock of chickens and some beehives. Maybe a turkey or two. These would mostly be for personal use, but I’d likely end up selling any surplus, especially of milk and eggs. We could have all of our beef, chicken, turkey and goat meat for the year. I’d like to be able to make soaps from the cow and goat milk to use and to sell. And I’d likely sell a lot of honey and beeswax-based products.
I’d like a large market garden where I could grow all heirlooms both for home use and sale at farmer’s markets and by subscription as a CSA. I’d like a small orchard with antique apples (grafted onto dwarf rootstock), a few hazelnut trees, a couple of bush cherries and blueberry bushes. If I have the room, I’d like to squeeze in a stand of sugar maples and persimmon trees.
I would like to have a small greenhouse and the livestock would require a small barn and chicken coop. I’d also like to a add a small community center building. There would be a hall that would be great for farm events like community dinners and workshops. It could also be rented out to individuals or other groups for meetings and events. This building would also have a commercially licensed kitchen that could be rented for individuals who need a licensed kitchen to create their own value-added products for sale. It would also be used as a communtiy canning center.
I’d like to have a small one room cabin on the back of the property. It would be a great weekend retreat and could also be rented or CSA shareholders could stay in it when it visiting. It would be spartan yet comfortable. It would have a queen-sized bed with a featherbed. It would have a small table with a red checked tablecloth and a pitcher of fresh flowers. It would have a wood burning stove. I think it would also have a small modern bathroom with a toilet, pedestal sink and clawfoot soaking tub. I don’t think I’d have it wired for electricity though– a couple of oil lamps would suffice and big windows. It would have a small porch with two rocking chairs and some potted plants. Visitors could join us at the farmhouse for meals with the option to order “room service” for one of their meals– a lovely picnic basket of smoked meats, fresh fruits and salad, home baked bread and pie with a bottle of wine (or champagne as the occassion dictates it). The cabin would also have a teakettle and an assortment of teas. Wow, I wish I could go there now!
The farmhouse would be small. I love little houses, and it would be all the space we’d need. I’d like a traditional farmhouse, but with an open floor plan. I’d like the living room, dining room and kitchen to be one large space. The kitchen would have a reproduction gas stove and electric refridegerator. I’d like a large fireplace (reminiscent of the walk-in colonial ones, though scaled down in size slightly). In lieu of built-in cabinetry, I’d have upper shelves mounted on decorative brackets to show off my collection of dishes and glassware. I’d have a pie safe, Hoosier cabinet and other free-standing furniture. I would also have a small walk-in pantry with an old screened door for the door and shelves and bins for vegetables and dry goods. I’d have the fireplace be the center of the living area (instead of a tv, though I’d still have one tucked away somewhere) with comfortable chairs, rocking chairs and a small loveseat (no giant sofa). In the bathroom (only one for the whole house– sounds crazy by today’s standards, but I just don’t understand the houses that have three or four that never get used) there would a claw foot soaking tub, beadboard walls and vintage fixtures. The bedrooms would be cozy– I think I’d like to have three. There would be wide-plank pine floors throughout the house (maybe tile in the bathroom). I’d have a porch with a swing and lots of potted plants. Just outside the kitchen would be a small garden for herbs and salad greens (seperate from the main garden) and a brick terrace. There would be a small cellar for vegetable storage. I think the entire house (not including the porch and garden terrace) would probably be less than 1500 square feet. Storage would have to be clever in a space that size, but I can’t imagine having more space than that. It would be more than we would need. I’d like to have the house powered naturally, either by solar or wind power, or a combination of both. Ideally we could be completely off the grid.
Granted, I’m not going to find ten acres within city limits of Chicago. But I’d like to stay near a big city (preferably near a large body of water), for a couple of reasons. The farmer’s markets are excellent. And we’d be close enough to go into the city for the cultural stuff we enjoy like the museums, events, concerts or even just a day at the beach. It is my goal to have everything I just described. To me, it’s paradise. I know it won’t happen overnight, by little by little I hope to build up a small farm and a sustainable way of living.
New Tricks for an Old Favorite: Spaghetti
We eat spaghetti probably at least one time per week. And let me tell you, no matter how good your marinara is, it’s bound to get old. But you can throw together a tasty, versatile spaghetti dinner in 15 minutes with ingredients you likely have on hand and have something completely different each time you prepare it. What’s the secret? A basic butter sauce. It’s simple really—melt one stick of butter in a saucepan (I use the one I cooked the spaghetti in so I don’t have to dirty a second one) and sauté one diced shallot and 4 diced cloves of garlic in it. Add a couple of tablespoons of parsley, a pinch of red pepper flakes and a tablespoon of lemon juice. With the lemon juice, you’re not necessarily looking for lemon flavor (though if that’s what you’re going for, add more) you’re adding it because it’s acidic and will thus “brighten” the flavor of the dish. It’s really what keeps it from tasting bland, so try not to omit it. Salt and pepper it to taste. Put your cooked spaghetti in a big serving dish and pour the butter sauce on top. Toss lightly to coat the spaghetti evenly. Now, you can serve the above as-is. I think it tastes great, and it’s a fantastic light meal that’s quick to prepare. But the great thing is the fact that you can add to it (this sauce is the Lego of sauces—you can just keep adding on). Some excellent additions might be sun-dried tomatoes, capers, roasted red peppers, real/soy cheese or mushrooms. Or, you can even get a little more involved and add bacon with kale or broccoli rabe, grilled veggies, anchovies with olives, sautéed shrimp or anything else you think sounds good. You really can’t go wrong. You might also try switching the lemon juice with specialty vinegars, like a nice aged balsamic. No matter how you prepare it, as long as this dish is in your basic repertoire, you can make a great meal in no time that will work for any occasion or night of the week.
First Sprouts of 2007!
We’re farming, folks! The first seedlings of 2007 have sprouted at Apartment Farm! Lettuce, sunflowers, tomatoes, kale, and cucumber are all up so far. Still waiting on the edamame, the second variety of lettuce, carrots, green onions and peppers to come up, but they won’t be too far behind.
The rosemary and thyme plants are having a little trouble getting settled with transplant shock. The rosemary’s flowers have dried up and some of the needles have fallen, but it seems to be recovering. The thyme is looking a little wilty, but I didn’t plant it deep enough–about an inch of the rootball is still above the soil. I’m going to settle it deeper into the pot today and see if it doesn’t get happier. The wintergreen I purchased over the winter is doing quite well and putting out new growth. It will need a larger pot soon. So all in all, we’re off to a pretty good start on this first day of spring!
More Additions to the Apartment Farm Library
Homegrown Fruit by Mimi Luebbermann
Little Potted Gardens by Mimi Luebberman
Seed to Seed by Suzanne Ashworth
The Farmer’s Wife Guide to Fabulous Fruits & Berries by Barbara Doyen
The Farmer’s Wife Guide to Growing a Great Garden & Eating From It To by Barbara Doyen
Little House Sampler by Laura Ingalls Wilder
The Lost Art of Pie Making Made Easy by Barbara Swell
Log Cabin Cooking: Pioneer Recipes & Food Lore by Barbara Swell
Old-Time Farmhouse Cooking: Rural American Recipes & Farm Lore by Barbara Swell
Crafts & Keepsakes for the Holidays by Martha Stewart
Americana: Roadside Memories by Michael Karl Witzel
Spring Teaser or the Real Deal?
Saturday the weather was so nice that the husband and I went out thrifting, stopped at the garden center and had lunch out. It was sunny and so warm we didn’t need to wear our coats. I thought it might be a fluke, but today is just the same. Sunny, not a cloud in the sky and warm. A light breeze, and for the first time in months, you can actually feel the sunshine. I hope it’s for real, because I can almost taste pasta salad with fresh lettuce and cherry tomatoes; I can almost feel the coolness of the green grass and the spray from the water crashing on the rocks at the lake… Only time will tell if spring is here to stay, but let’s cross our fingers!
The Trials & Tribulations of Pie
Name one thing every self-respecting farm woman can do, and somewhere near the top of the list you will find “pie”. Pie is a food that is completely an American, and more specifically, a Midwestern thing. Pie makes it’s appearance both at the mundane moments (Tuesday night supper) and the momentus (proper funerals). Pie is a dish that everyone remembers from their childhood. My mom comes from a long line of pie bakers. I won’t give away my Mothers secrets (or her recipes), but regardless of our situation there was a pie on our table on a regular enough basis. My mom makes a fantastic apple pie. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about it, but maybe that’s what makes it so good. Even better than my mom’s apple is a simple icebox chocolate pie, that I could sit down and devour in it’s entirely the moment I discovered it in the refrigerator. Pie equals home in most people’s minds, including my own.
So, I make a great pie, right? Wrong! At least at this point in time. Sure I can churn out icebox chocolate pies with the graham cracker crusts like there’s no tomorrow, but learning that one was borne of necessity– I didn’t have mom whipping them up for me in my college dorm room. And I can make a decent pumpkin pie when Thanksgiving demands it, though truth be told, my husband’s is better. But fruit pie? Elaborate berry or custard concoctions? Forget about it– they turn out soggy on the bottom, burnt on the top and somewhere between congealed plastic and soupy mess in the middle.
I read a great book about pie lately that got me thinking there was still hope for my pie-baking skills. This book combines my love of food writing and road trip writing into one neat bundle of goodness– it’s called American Pie: Slices of Life (and Pie) From America’s Back Roads by Pascale La Draoulec. Once I finished reading it (in a near-record two days), I was inspired by all the great pies that exist to try my hand at baking one myself. I decided to try a cherry pie, for no particular reason, and it ended up being the single worst cherry pie I have ever seen and declined to eat in my life. I had one hell of a time rolling out my suppossedly-simple Jiffy pie crust mix and fitting it into my deep-dish pie pan. Then there was the issue of cherries. I had to bags of organic frozen cherries. I knew they had to be sweetened and thickened, so I tossed them into a saucepan with a cup of sugar, and tried in vain to thicken them, with a roux, of all things. When they were “done” (and boy, was I skeptical) I poured the still very liquid-y mess into the bottom crust. Then I thought I might like to do a pretty lattice top crust. So I again, struggled to roll out another layer of dough, cursing with all my might and glaring at my innocent by-stander husband, who sensing my apparent frusteration, was trying to offer kind suggestions. Once I got the crust rolled out in one piece, I realized I had lost all patience with the process and was not about the spend the next thirty minutes of my life cutting thin, uniform lattice work and arranging on top of my perfectly assembled pie. So, using a steak knife, I cut six thick swathes of dough and layered them in devil-may-care fashion on top of the dark cherry filling, only to see the whole affair sink into the quicksand of the filling. I shoved it into the oven and set the timer. About fifteen minutes later, I opened the oven to take a peek. The top crust was taking on a lovely golden-brown hue. For a brief second, I felt there might be hope for this monstrosity of a pie. Then I closed the door to let it bake a little while longer… and promptly forgot about it. About an hour later, when the unmistakable smell of burning started to waft through the apartment, I jumped up in alarm, remembering. The PIE!! I ran to the kitchen, and took it out of the oven. The top crust was nearly black and the cherries were oozing out of the lattice in a menacing, bubbling way, very reminiscent of a hot tar pit. I stood and lamented over it in disbelief. A complete failure. (I have to bless my husband though, because he actually tried to eat some of it, despite my ardent protestations).
Hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty. First of all, I had no business trying to bake a pie in the mood I was in that day. I had had a crappy day at work, a yucky commute home, an accident than injured both my hand and my wedding ring (neither permanently, fortunately). I was in a fantasticly foul mood, which is no way to bake pie. Pie takes patience and love. You have to be nice to your dough– just enough water, just enough flour. Not to much pressure with the rolling pin. I have since learned that tapioca is the pie-bakers best friend. It thickens juicy fruits like nobody’s business. And for goodness’ sake, set the oven timer! You want golden brown, not burnt black. So, will I try to make a pie again? Absolutely. Every self-respecting farm girl should. And will I succeed and finally bring out the legendary pie I know lurks deep inside? Yes, because every self-respecting farm girl does.
Better than Buttermilk Pancakes
Pancakes are a favorite breakfast at my house. They’re quick and easy and make a hearty morning meal. The following recipe is adapted from The Milk-Free Kitchen, which is one of the indespensible cookbooks on my kitchen shelf. This recipe will make exactly 12 pancakes, which at my house is enough for two people. If you’re feeding a crowd, the recipe doubles easily, and you can make quick work of cooking them up if you use a griddle that can accomdate 4-6 cakes at a time. Cooking for two, we use a small skillet on the stovetop. Which ever method you use, it’s important to remember to get your pan good and hot before you start the first pancake. I currently have an electric stove, and I let it heat up on high for at least 3 minutes before starting, then with the first cake I turn it down to about 5. You can test the readiness of your pan by dropping a small drop of batter in it and watching how it cooks up. If your pan is to cool, the pancakes will stick and the whole batch just won’t turn out right. Better to have it too hot when making pancakes– they cook up quick!
2 cups flour
6 tablespoons sugar
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs (you can substitute the eggs for 4 tablespoons water if you need to, and this is also what we do when we take the mix on camping trips)
1 1/2 cups water
1.) Mix the dry ingredients together.
2.) Stir in egg and water until just combined. It’s okay if the batter is a bit lumpy, but noticeable traces of flour should be mixed in.
3.) When your pan is good and hot, drop in about a quarter cup of batter. I use a small ladle as it’s the least messy. Spread the batter around a bit as you pour it in, then let the pancake set. When you see little bubbles rising and popping all over the surface and the edges look cooked (this should take about a minute in a hot pan), use a spatula and carefully flip the cake over. Cook about another minute until the cake is done and golden brown on both sides.
4.) Repeat step three with the remaining batter.
Serve them hot with butter and maple syrup. My husband also likes his with fresh jam or jelly, or even fruit butters. We always serve ours with hot tea (for me) and fresh coffee (for husband).
Mason Jar Biscuits
While this recipe doesn’t use buttermilk, these biscuits can rival the buttermilk kind any time. They are light and fluffy with superior flavor, and don’t take long at all to put together. They’re perfect with butter, jam or jelly, or served with sausage and gravy. And you can’t beat them in a strawberry shortcake with fresh whipped cream. They freeze and defrost well, so it’s simple to make up a few batches and store them until you need them. This recipe can also be used for dumplings, making it incredibly versatile to master.
4 cups flour
6 tablespoons sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter
1 1/2 cups water
1.) Mix dry ingredients together.
2.) Cut in butter, using your hands to mix it into the dry ingredients until it’s thoroughly combined.
3.) Stir in the water until well combined.
4.) Knead dough just until smooth, then roll out to a 3/4 inch thickness on a floured board. Use a mason jar to cut biscuits out of the dough. You should get at least two dozen biscuits out of this recipe.
5.) Line the biscuits up, just slightly apart on a cookie sheet and bake 15-20 minutes in a 375 degree oven.
If you would like to make extra for freezing, simply double the recipe. These are great biscuits!
Spring Sowing, for Real This Time :-)
Okay, despite all good intentions mentioned earlier, life prevented me (in all it’s little annoying ways) from actually sitting down and getting my seeds sown. So today I sat down and did it, because it occured to me that if I didn’t actually plant anything, I wouldn’t have anything to grow. And that would be a very sad state of affairs indeed. My first order of business was to repot a rosemary and thyme that I picked up from Gethsemane’s discount rack; the rosemary was only $3 and the thyme was $2. I put the rosemary into the green glazed pot where the former rosemary lived before it’s untimely demise. The thyme got a place of honor in a fantastic large milk glass planter I picked up at a thrift store for $6. Then it was time for the seeds. I planted a total of 60 seeds– 6 each of the following: Envy edamame, Lollo Rossa lettuce, Music Box sunflower, Miniature White cucumber, Dwarf Blue Curled Scotch kale, Tom Thumb lettuce, Tiny Tim cherry tomato, Evergreen White Bunching onion, Thumbelina carrot, and Sweet Cherry pepper. If they all survive, I will have plenty to grow out myself, plus some to give away. So, the growing season has officially begun at Apartment Farm!
