“Finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney with remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect.”
Andrew Bird – Spare Ohs
Two days after we made this yummy frittata the fox came. He ate all our ducks and one of our chickens. The fox: I feel like I know him. I see him all the time. He prances under streetlights when I go for a run. He sprints across the street, in front of my truck when I’m coming home from work. The fox lives in a burrow under the railroad tracks a block or so from here. He stalks the neighborhood. And he’s taken our birds before. We’ve lost at least three other chickens to the fox. He comes at night and kills birds. Not that I blame him. It’s his nature, we know that and we’re the ones who’ve failed to protect the birds.
Obviously, we didn’t know we were going to lose our ducks when we made this frittata. But, in retrospect, having considered all the special things we could have done with our last ever duck eggs, I’m glad we made this recipe. It was the perfect “bridge” recipe, bringing together the last few seasons on our tiny farm. We used storage onion grown last fall, spinach tended over the winter and fresh duck eggs from this spring. Continue reading Spring Frittata with Storage Onion, Over-Wintered Spinach and Duck Egg
It’s the middle of September but it feels like springtime all over again. The days have been warm, the nights have been cold, the grow room is full of plants and once again, lamentably, we have a lot of work to do. Thankfully, fall planting should be our last big push of the year, then we can rest. I’m looking forward to the rest. But before we get there, we still have to put in a few thousand transplants, plant the alliums, direct seed carrots and mache, build some hoops, frame out the ends of our tall hoops, get everything protected against the winter cold and prep our dormant beds for next year. It’ll be a lot of work but it’ll be over soon enough. One last big push.
Continue reading Fall Planting
Yesterday the boy and I took lunch in the garden. (We have a son. His name is Milo. He’s two, though if asked he’ll tell you he’s sixteen). We sat in straight-backed chairs beside the nursery hoop, overlooking the chickens. We ate a spinach salad with balsamic and rosemary vinaigrette straight from a huge, stainless mixing bowl. We shared a sparkling water, from a single tall glass with lemon and ice. It was a simple meal, no more than ten minutes from field to plate. And it was perfect. Lately, between soil prep, spring planting, grow room work, raising the boy and working my regular 50+ hrs/wk at the store I’d been running it a little thin. I was needing something simple and lunch in the garden with my son did the trick. It was one of the best meals I can remember.
Continue reading A Simple Lunch with Spinach, Vinaigrette and the Boy