Category Archives: herbs and wildcrafting

back to Market on 6/2 with nettle sauerkraut!

Curious Farm booth at Beaverton Farmers Market

Hi friends —  Just a note to say that Curious Farm will be absent from the Beaverton Farmers Market this Saturday, May 26th.

The new Pickle Lab is nearing completion, and we need to put some finishing touches to our new workspace before the inspector comes next week.

nettleI’ll be back at the Beaverton Farmers Market on Saturday, June 2nd, with a big smile on my face and some of our new Curious Farm Nettle Sauerkraut — which is packed with savory, satisfying flavor and minerally goodness.  Nettles are high in potassium, calcium, chromium, copper, magnesium, and iron.  Once cooked (or fermented), they lose their sting — but not their exceptional nutrition.  Come try some!

in the garden, almost spring…

bittercress

Do you have this growing in your yard, too?  It’s called bittercress or popweed, and I love it in salads.  We’re going to eat this particular lovely and a few of her friends tomorrow night.  It tastes like watercress or arugula, and it is a wild brassica (cousin to broccoli and cabbage).  The texture — raw, in salads — is springy and fun.

Look!  The lovage is peeking up (red spears below) — just in time for Spring!

lovage in March

And Hello, Rhubarb!

rhubarb

This is its first full year here, and it’s growing nicely on the herbal lawn with the clover, yarrow, and dandelions.  Someday its proud red stalks will be a structural element in the front yard — and a pickling ingredient, too.

Happy almost spring!

rosa villosa

I’ve been so busy pickling for the Market that I haven’t spent as much time as I usually do admiring the wonder outside and harvesting herbs we’ll need for the year ahead.

But who can ignore these gorgeous baubles? 

rose hips

They are the hips from rosa villosa — or apple rose — and are as big as crabapples.  Whenever I pick these, I’m reminded that apples, roses, and raspberries are all related.  When dried, these taste like raspberry fruit leather. 

I dehydrate them for use in healing teas during the winter.  Eloise likes to pop them in her mouth and suck on them like candy.  Rose hips have more than twenty times the amount of vitamin C as oranges.  They also help boost the immune system and relax inflammation.  If I’m feeling blue, a couple of rosehips and a sprig of rosemary in a cup of hot water will brighten my mood.

When you harvest rose hips, you have to remove the little hairs (and seeds) inside the hip.  These hairs were the source  of the “itching powder” advertised in the back of comic books and in gag shops.  The little fibers are  easy to remove in hips that are this large.  Most rosa rugosa — shrub roses — will produce big, meaty hips.

 

curious farm lovages you

Our lovage has come up, and we’ll bring some to the Beaverton Farmers Market in May.

By June, this patch of lovage will be 5 feet around and 6 feet high, based on how it grew last year.  Then it will flower and wilt and go away until next year.

Lovage is related to celery but is more aromatic.   Its mysterious spiciness reminds me of bay more than anise, which is how many people describe it.  It’s lovely in soups, cooked with beans and added sparingly to salads.  People eat the root as they do celery root.  The seeds are edible, too, and used just like celery seed.  I like the tender leaves best — torn on top of soups or salads just before serving.  Everyone always says, “What is this?  I love it!”

We’ve been busy planting and preparing for the Beaverton Farmers Market.  We’re a farm and a fresh food producer and have never sold at the Market before so we’re trying to get all our supplies in order so that we’ll be ready to offer you our wonderful live-cultured foods, pickles,  and some fresh-grown herbs.

chicory in bloom

Do you remember when I showed you the chicory plant that was bolting?  This is what it looks like today:

chicory in bloom

That one thick stalk created a hundred thin flower stalks that each have twenty or more flower buds.  They snake and swirl and swoop and bloom with such determined energy.  I find it all very inspiring so I have made room for this plants’ dance even though it got in the way of the peas, and I could have used some of this space for other things.

chicory in aprilThis is what the plant looks like in early spring.  This photo is from April 09, when it first came up in the garden.  I loved its determined character even then.  I thought it was a lettuce until it bloomed last year.

Every day at sunset, those blue flowers fade and never open again.  Flowers higher on each stalk open the next day.  This will go on until the plant is spent.

And I will always make room in my garden for this creature.

devoted gardener and herbalist

ellie reading a garden book

Ellie and I went to Portland Nursery today because I was looking for tomato seeds for plants with a determinate habit.  I just want to try a few unstaked this year and let them sprawl on some straw.

The nursery also had a couple of mint plants I haven’t had in awhile so I got those.  When we got back and Ellie saw me pulling out a pot for the mint, she ran in the house to get her gardening book (thanks JL!).  She pointed to the pages on the potted herb gardens and said, “Look, this book will give us devices for planting.”

Devices!  I didn’t want to correct her and suggest the word “advice,” but I did so in an easy way later so that she could clarify what she meant in her own way.

Ellie is very interested in herbs right now.  She’s been making parsley “tea,” and the other night she saved some rosemary in a mesh onion bag to put in her bath.   She still loves eating bitter yarrow.  The children’s herb books I have are still too advanced for her,  but I look forward to having a lot of herbal fun with her as we both get a little older.

ellie and book and mint

hard day at curious farm

chicks in the run

We lost a chicken this evening.  We searched all over for a long time.  We assume she got taken by a neighbor’s cat or a wild bird.  We still don’t have a screen on top of the chicken run, and the chicks were in there most of the day (their choice).  We feel sad.  I realize that this may happen sometimes, but we’ve invested so much heart into these chicks that it still hurts to lose one.

Also, I hit my knee pretty hard with the shovel.  I’m hoping the swelling will go down tomorrow.  I had to sink down into the dirt and commune with the worms for awhile (wriggling against my cheek, in fact).  No one heard me yell.  I couldn’t walk or see for a long time, but I didn’t lose consciousness completely.

rototillerAnd I shamefully admit that I finally gave up on the double-digging for this year…  I feel awful about this, but I couldn’t get my body to dig this morning.  There really is some sheet of rock or hardpan down about 18 inches.   Every single push with the shovel or fork caused my arm to bounce back.  In desperation, I even tried to use the rototiller.  No luck.  Sadly, I just don’t have the strength or time to break through the rock this year. 

After rototilling the unfinished half of bed #5, I built up the soil with ammendments and reshaped the bed.  Although half of this bed isn’t as deep as all the other double-dug beds, I hope the extra ammendments and raised height will improve the vegetable growth in this spot — which has been problematic in the past, as I have shared.

Here is a photo of the east side of the garden — with 4 1/2 double-dug beds and 1/2 bed that was massacred with a rototiller:

beds on the east side of the garden

I won’t use the rototiller again.  I know it won’t work to break through the rock.  I still have to make 4 beds on the west side of the garden:

west side of the garden

These won’t be as long, but they’ll match up with the beds on the east side in width and placement.  I’m going to use a lasagna-method to make these beds so that I can retain more control over how the ammendments get worked into the soil.   They will be a lot of work, but I won’t have to dig into hard clay.  I’ll use straw on the bottom and build layers with compost, ammendments, and the already-excavated pile of (previously-ammended) top-soil that’s in the foreground of the photo above.

Also in the two pictures above, you can see the coop and run in the background.  The chicken run is larger than needed, and we’ll be fixing it up with roosts and a more sheltered area for when it rains.  But right now the birds are loving it out there because in the middle of it is an old pile of yard debris.

After the coop is done, we’ll paint it white so that it matches the house, and we’ll modify the shed you can see in the left background of the east part of the garden — to support that shed better and to square up some visual lines.

If you’re wondering about the big mass of green on the east side of the garden, that’s the raspberry patch.  We need to add more wire supports there so that they stand more upright.  Last year, we had berries all summer — enough for breakfast most days, not enough for jam.  I think the plants are robust enough for me to harvest a lot of raspberry leaves this year for medicinal teas.  Kids like raspberry leaf tea, and the chickens seem to like eating them, too.  Raspberry leaves taste like lemony rose petals (and they’re related to our friend rose, in fact).

Aside from the missing chick (really sad about this), my sore knee, and having to cry uncle about the digging and use a rototiller (ick), I felt really happy to work outside this weekend.  I loved watching the chickens mingle.  I saw more peas surface.  David and I planted a first group of potatoes.

I’ve been trying to get the chickens to wander over here to this sweet spot so that I can get a nice photo, but they’re more interested in the dead leaves in the chicken run.  Oh well…  I’ll share some of this good spring energy with you anyway!

tulips and blossoms near the play house

And here is one of my special crabapple trees in bloom and a view down to the seasonal creek (the dark ditch in the middle-left of the photo):

crabapple, hill and creek

Do you understand why this two-thirds-of-an-acre is so important to us?  

We are rich in this spot of dirt and poor in other ways.  We are breaking our backs, knees, and hearts to grow or shepherd vitality of all kinds here.