Tag Archives: alphabet books

A Winged Elm Farm Alphabet: “Z”

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Z is for Zucchini

A poor gardener’s friend, the zucchini rewards inattention with a bumper crop. But ignore this veggie at your peril. With back turned for a day and you find a modest fruit has grown to the size of a baseball bat. This tendency alone is why it is good to raise a pig next to the summer garden. Pigs will eat your oversize zucchini and overripe vegetables. And they would eat your baseball bat for that matter.

Two good plants will provide all your “zuke” needs for a season. So productive you scramble for ways to eat them: layered in lasagna or simmered in tomato sauces, bread and butter pickles or added to your kimchi, baked into a sweet bread or made into a savory pancake with fresh yogurt and chives.

But our favorite way of using excess zucchini is to stealthily leave them on a neighbor’s porch, ring the bell and run.

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Reading this weekend: Roots: the definitive compendium by Diane Morgan, a cookbook devoted to roots. And, Roast Figs, Sugar Snow: winter food to warm the soul by Diana Henry. A bit obvious as to what is on my mind this week.

A Winged Elm Farm Alphabet: “Y”

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Y is for Yell

A good yell is one of the ancient arts, an invaluable tool for communicating in and around this farm.

A loud and drawn-out “Pigeee” brings a sounder of pigs stampeding through the woods to the dinner trough, a “Come on, come on” projected from the chest brings the cattle to hay, and a high-pitched “Yoo-hooo” from Cindy penetrates even the deepest reverie and brings me trotting to assist.

A midnight call from a hunter to his lost dog, a mother’s call to her scattered children at dinner, a persistent call for help that signals a neighbor trapped in his barn by a rogue steer … the yell turns out to be one of the most useful tools in our farm’s toolbox.

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Reading this weekend: Sustainability: a cultural history by Ulrich Grober. A book picked up at the wonderful Malaprop’s in Asheville, NC, a bookstore to be supported and cherished.

A Winged Elm Farm Alphabet: “X”

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X is for Xylocopa virginica

Sitting on the back stoop under the pergola lacing up my work boots and a cascade of sawdust drifts down over me. Looking up at the rafters, I spot a neat, symmetrical 3/8- inch hole. Similar holes are found throughout the barn and other outbuildings, all testament to the industry of the native pollinator the Eastern carpenter bee, Xylocopa virginica. A constant presence, the carpenter bee is busy across the farm, drilling holes to lay its eggs and raise its larvae.

The piles of sawdust are one indicator of its activity. Another is the high-pitched buzz emanating from a wooden post as I pound in a fence staple. Eventually the carpenter bee flies out to angrily confront the disturber of its domicile. But it virtually never stings and is a rather benign partner on our land, one whose work is admired and cascades of sawdust deplored

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Reading this weekend: Vintage Pellegrini: the collected wisdom of an American Buongustaio by Angelo Pellegrini (the author of the wonderful The Food Lover’s Garden)

A Winged Elm Farm Alphabet: “W”

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W is for Wild Turkey

Midnight skies, a flock of wild turkeys heard but not seen on the opposing ridge.

Bush hogging the back pasture I startle a flock as they graze, like flying basketballs they lift off with surprising speed and grace. Walking through the woods to feed the hogs and a rustling overhead draws my attention to a dozen roosting in a sycamore. Driving down Possum Trot and I brake suddenly to avoid a large hen and poults. They scurry to join their kin under an oak. Wild Turkeys are everywhere in our valley.

Now I’m walking one fine November day, a week before Thanksgiving, carrying a shotgun, and finding that our intended dinner has removed itself from the landscape.

These sounds at midnight confirm their canny reputation.

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Reading this weekend: Provence, 1970: M.F.K. Fischer, Julia Child, James Beard and the reinvention of American taste by Luke Barr. A book about a meeting between these foodies, think Bottle Shocked meets boeuf bourguignonne meets clam chowder.

A Winged Elm Farm Alphabet: “V”

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V is for Vegetables

Even the most devoted carnivore needs a potato now and then. But for the rest of us our veggies are an endless source of pleasure. A thoughtful dish rewards the farmer for his or her hard work and celebrates the virtues of that plant. Eggplant parmesan, fried okra, crowders with garlic and dill, tomatoes in sauces or eaten raw in the garden on a hot summer day; these are few of our favorite ways.

In rows of beans and sprawling squash, with basketball sized cabbages and the pepper plant that never gave up, in the corn field or the potato hill, among the Brandywines and onion bulbs, you pause and give honor to that ancient rustic who first grew and harvested the dish that will grace your table tonight.

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Reading this weekend: Debt: the first 5000 years by David Graeber.