Rainbeau Ridge Weblog

The Shoulder Season

The trees are bare now and the light has begun to change as early as mid-afternoon these days. Because it hasn’t gotten really cold yet, this shoulder season is still a bracing time to walk and work outside.    We find ourselves at this time of year again when the garden hunkers down to rest, beds are turned over and cover crops paint neat green stripes against the mulched paths. Bees take refuge in their hives and cheese production comes to a close as the does are bred and settled into a healthy rest for the term of their pregnancies. Part of the team heads off in new directions; those remaining find the pace has slowed.

My own time for reflection and assessment is at hand.   The Thanksgiving feast, with its cranberries, pies, turkey and family gatherings, always seems to bracket the farm season’s close—and weary as we may be, grateful for a break, I know my team is already thinking about what’s over the horizon, the rebirth of spring and all that it holds in store for us.

Amidst the flurry of holiday activity, I pause to thank everyone for contributions to the farm that make Rainbeau Ridge such a special place.

-Lisa

Cuke & Zuke

No, not our barn cats!  It was a cucumber and a zucchini that Isaac presented me with today—the first of the garden (and one of the occasional privileges of being the boss).

We are hitting our stride—summer is here (notwithstanding that the sun and temperature belie this).  With a little steadier pace and a little less hectic daily activity, I’ve shunned my poor, ‘grab a carb on the go’ eating habit and returned to what I love—foraging the garden for my dinner. 

The cuke and dill salad and the sautéed zucchini with garlic scapes were the perfect accompaniments to my fresh fish dinner.  It wasn’t recipe directed or grocery list driven—it happened because that’s what was garden ready.  I love improvising each night.  Many times that will include a piece of cheese that I rescued from the cheese house refrigerator.

It is truly a privilege to eat the fruits of our collective labor.  Sometimes people take our ability to grow for granted—but most (CAP members) are as awed by it all as I am—the magnificent spirals of the Romanesco broccoli, iridescent red and green color of the radicchio, the sensational taste of the roasted turnips and the delicate flavor of the golden (not old!) snap peas jazz me like you can’t believe.

Eating ‘local’ these days is hardly a challenge as we head into the peak growing period—My advice is to slow down, savor the ingredients and be sure to squirrel some away for winter!

-Lisa

New Year's Message

So there was going to be this clever version of The Night Before Christmas, modified to mirror life on the farm; a blog entitled Silent Night (and day) reflecting the new found quiet in the milk barn now that the goats are dry; alternatively I considered a mushy retrospective on the year.

In the end, the time has gotten away from me.  Instead of blogging, I‘ve been slogging --through mountains of 2007 paperwork and planning for the 2008 season.

But things warrant a time out—a pause from these tasks—long enough to say thanks to all who made 2007 such a wonderful year at Rainbeau Ridge.

To our friends, customers, vendors, kids, teachers, Farm Team, family, and others too numerous to name individually, we appreciate your continued support as we worked to expand our products and services in an effort to make sustainable living second nature(tm).

We saw our children’s programs, CAP program and cheese business expand significantly in 2007 and we are optimistic that 2008 will be even more successful.

We may face record cold during morning chores these days but the glossy covers of incoming seed catalogues give us hope.  We crack the ice out of the water buckets each morning but we’ve begun the countdown to kidding season and know that cheese production will be here before we could even forget the delectable taste that lingered on our palate at Thanksgiving.

We wish you a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year and hope you share our enthusiasm for the upcoming offerings we will bring to you this year.

-Lisa

The Last Hurrah . . .

It’s late October, with the temperatures feeling more like summer. 

The otherwise brown stemmed tomato plants are still pushing out flowers—one more chance to bear fruit—and we covet each and every fruit the plant wants to give us.  Just when we thought we were fed up with tomatoes, we realize we have to wait another nine months before we will have the privilege to taste that wonderful flavor again.  We may regret not harvesting enough or making ample sauce to get us through the winter. Ok, maybe next year…

The colorful peppers continue to hang on the plants like Christmas ornaments, glowing vibrant orange, purple, red yellow and green.  Time to think of a recipe to preserve these gems!

Snow peas, planted in a cool window as summer (officially) ended, managed to push enough growth to provide us with some real gems. 

Despite the temps, the plants have had enough cool nights to hear the call—“it’s getting to be winter, produce seeds, produce seeds so all is not lost for your future!”  So they are responding with little black dots clinging to the remnants of the vegetation, waiting for a breeze or bird to come along and ensure their reappearance next year.

Until all things finally fade in the garden, we’ll savor the joy of eating (one last hurrah) from our own backyard, regret plants we let slip through our fingers, cherish the tastes, thankful for the season we had, mindful that next year is only 6 months away!

Watch Us Grow . . .

That was the theme of our Summer Sprouts program this year.  We examined the things that it takes to make a plant grow, how the plants develop and examine the parts of the plants that we eat.

One key reason that we offer our kids’ program over time (and not a one week stint) is that we feel strongly that children need to witness the growth for themselves…and have they ever! 

Lettuce seeds that they planted themselves have yielded countless mouthfuls as we’ve cut and let it come again.  Carrots have developed “shoulders” that the children know to look for before pulling these gems from their underground home.  Transplanted tomato plants that barely required their cages in early July now cascade over the tops of these structures and bear hundreds of flowers and fruits.

On the animal front, spring’s goat babies have literally shot up before our eyes in these brief seven weeks of Sprouts.  DC, our calf out of Destiny, is frolicking around independently and barely nursing.  Chicks have become chickens and are laying eggs.

As importantly, the children themselves have grown so much!  They have developed a sense of self-confidence and independence.  They walk boldly into the chicken yard and head to the feather-footed hen who they know will let them pick her up.  Entering the goat paddock has become an essential feature of each session as the children seek out their special four legged friends and embrace them with assurance. They are tender and playful, disciplining and guiding.  How wonderful that the two-legged kids allow these four-legged critters, standing at least as tall as their human counterparts with a tendency to nibble on dangling zipper pulls, to jump up with their forelegs and don’t even flinch.

I especially love the post-program whirl around the farm when the Sprouts escort their parents or caregivers around ‘their’ farm and ‘their’ garden pointing out the special things they’ve learned and correcting the adults when they don’t properly identify the cucurbits!

If nothing else, the kids learned patience—and the wonderful concept of anticipation.  They had to delay gratification—almost a foreign concept to a generation that expects and gets instant everything from electronic games to food.

‘Looking forward’ may have seemed like an eternity when we began sowing lettuce seeds in early July.  Would these tiny nuggets yield anything??? The time until we’d be able to reap the rewards of what we sowed was an unknown and was in the hands of weather which, these days, has been anything but predictable.  It seemed unlikely that anything would happen in our few weeks together but in reality the time passed and we were rewarded amply—in terms of quantity and taste. 

We turned milk into cheese, cheese to pizza, tomatoes into sauce, lemon verbena into frozen yogurt, chocolate mint into sorbet and zucchini into bread…

Seven short weeks later, where our food comes from and what it takes to grow things have been partially demystified.  We have only scratched the surface but in doing so we hope that we’ve imparted a joy and appreciation of the things growing in our own backyards.

We all need to take time out, slow the clock down a little and learn to appreciate things that take time and seek enjoyment in longer than an instant—when we remember to do that, it’s amazing how rewarding it can be!

Timeless tomatoes…

Did you know the CD turned 25 recently?  I had not been aware of this occasion but just heard the news flash.  Not only did the story announce this milestone but it commented that the CD may be becoming obsolete.  After all, we continue to need greater portability and maximal storage—witness the nano and flash drives.

For this technology-impaired farmer, I have to confess to just coming up to speed with existing technologies and storage devices.  So I hope they don’t retire those items anytime soon.  Perhaps my knowledge is limited and my usage somewhat awkward, but I get the job done.

In my 50+ years, I’ve seen my share of new fangled gizmos and gadgets—some bringing real improvements to our lives, others in the category of what I’d call unnecessary consumption but lots of fun to have…

Regardless of my judgment call on the merits of each, one thing is indisputable—these technologies inevitably outdate themselves before too long. 

I’m happy to say that on the farm we take comfort in things that are timeless.  It’s August and the garden is bursting with produce.  The combination of Deb’s awesome gardening and somewhat cooperative weather and bugs has yielded a bumper crop of tomatoes—over 20 varieties this year!

Big Ag and research universities have experimented and developed new breeds, hybrids, disease resistant strains, hydroponic techniques and alternative growing methods. But at the end of the day, “heirloom, old fashioned, like your grandmother grew” tomatoes yield great fruits!

These timeless tomatoes cry out from the vine—“Eat me!  Slice me! Dice me! Sauce me!”  With the peak of the season at hand, I happily oblige. 

As I devour my lettuce and tomato roll up or my rustic tomato sauce with basil on whole wheat pasta, I am already cognizant that the season will fade all too soon.

Nothing obsolete about a naturally grown, juicy tomato—savor the flavor—enjoy—hang on to the memory when the season fades and hold on to the notion that some things don’t have to be reinvented to bring pleasure…

Travels and the Culinary

I have been AWOL from Rainbeau Ridge for 12 days—the first time all season and the first extended mid-season trip I’ve taken in a very long time. Thanks to the able bodied team on the ground, I don’t think they missed a beat and seems like the precedent has been set for me doing this again!

The Japan saga, the first part of my journey, is written about elsewhere—this is the story of my CIA/Greystone adventure—a wonderfully stimulating week in what may be the culinary incubator of the US.

I left Kyoto by noon time Tuesday, knowing that this would be my last trip here for quite some time—maybe until I have grandchildren that I can drag along for some T&T (temples and torture). Headed for Kansai International Airport, I had plenty of drive time to reflect on the short but memorable trip to one of my favorite cities.

Fortunately for me, this was not the end of a vacation but the mid-point in my hiatus from farm life. I headed to California’s Napa Valley, west coast home of the CIA for a 4 day cooking experience. My plane companion was Barbara Kingsolver’s latest book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle—a must read! I only wish I had written it first…

Labeled the Sophisticated Palate, the CIA course I was joining was one of intensive cooking, eating and drinking—not too hard to take—but by the end we were all exhausted and sated.

While not a frequent visitor, I’ve been to Napa enough times before to feel like I was ‘returning’…The drive up from SFO was quick and scenic and I arrived in time for that day’s lunch preparation—two hours earlier than when I left Kyoto, but 12 sleepless hours elapsed time.

My classmates & I were in the very capable and experienced hands of Chef John Ash of Sonoma. Cookbook author, restaurateur, CIA instructor and all around interesting guy, John shepherded us though concepts, ingredients and recipes. His very helpful and lovely sidekick was Chef Andy Wild, a delightful member of the professional team.

The support team included Laura Pickover, Patricia Landis and several others who made our stay wonderful and attended to our needs—nothing was too much trouble and they made us feel at home.

The flavor theme for the week was Asian – it was like a culinary adventure to Thailand, Vietnam and Japan without getting back on the plane. We learned about the various taste components and had a chance to put them into play when we prepped our lunch. After sampling the various dishes and curry pastes, we headed to Villa Mille Rose, a private estate where they grow olives and make their own oil (something to think about for RR). The setting was right out of Umbria and the tasting was lots of fun.

Later that afternoon, I managed to get checked into my hotel and shower, pushing through the encroaching jet lag. After all, there was a CIA prepared dinner at the Wine Spectator Restaurant that I had to attend. I could see that the careful eating during the first half of my farm hiatus (which was carefully balanced with the miles I walked on the streets of Japan – notwithstanding the chocolate covered almonds) was a thing of the past and I would be staring down the barrel of an incremental 5 pounds for the CIA week—at least!

Dinner was delicious and the companionship interesting as I got to chat with some CIA folks and listen to John Buechsenstein (Instructor, CIA Adjunct Faculty - Professional Wine Studies) talk about the wines that accompanied each course. In an uncharacteristic manner, I passed on dessert and excused myself at a reasonable hour to head to sleep—Didn’t matter – I stayed up well past midnight and was up by 6am on my own.

Raring to go, I indulged in a CIA breakfast, followed by another morning of cooking. Lunch was yummy and more wine, of course. I passed on the visit to the Schramsberg Caves although all reports were glowing. Had to check out the town of St. Helena which was charming.

Dinner that night was a true highlight…At the Hess Estate—complete with wines, vineyards, gardens, art and food! It does not get better than that.

Instead of cooking in the AM for lunch, we began the day with a tasting—Identifying the flavors within a wine—This was held at the Rudd Center for Wine Studies—a great facility and a very interesting exercise. Admittedly doctored but forcing us to articulate in a common vocabulary, the wines were laced with a distinct flavor that we had to discern with smell and taste. Then it was onto pairings—a very useful tool – foods with similarities with and contrasts to the wines—Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonay, Cab & Merlot. I found out some interesting things…we all know the power of smell (olfactory senses) but I found out that the indication it sent to my brain was not always a predicator of whether I’d like the wine. For example, certain reds whose flavor profile based on my sense of smell I had decided I would not like I in fact did once I tasted it…And I learned that I like ‘similar food’ tastes with my white wines whereas with reds I preferred contrasting flavors.

Lunch was prepared for us in the board room, a lovely space inside the main building of the winery. There we heard from Lynn Devereux about cheeses and sampled several. It turns out that among the books that Lynn brought was the newly released cheesemakers almanac in which . . . YES, Rainbeau Ridge is featured—so I got to sign my first book! What a giggle!!!

Afternoon siesta instead of another winery—this one Swanson—but I was frankly wined out…Spent some time scoping out the campus bookstore, checking out the new edible landscape and catching up on email and calls back east—still no sleep.

We resumed our kitchen duties by 5pm and had dinner on the table in no time. Our attention focused on ideas for our own creations which would follow for Friday’s lunch. That evening’s dinner’s guest was Mike Chelini of Stony Hill Vineyards (and his wife) very lovely and informative people.

By now, my car was on automatic pilot between Greystone and the El Bonita which helped considerably but I found myself not taking advantage of the ETB opportunities—instead staying up until at least midnight and then getting up as though still on morning chores.

The final morning’s wake up was well worth the early start—we had a lovely picnic breakfast under the trees at the St Helena Farmer’s Market where we would source the ingredients for our lunch creations. Mistaken for the real deal, (because we were wearing chef’s coats) I was asked to answer questions ranging from my favorite brands of butter to advice on herbs. Vendors were particularly thrilled when (we) chefs bought their products—and as a farmer I so get it. It was very stimulating to be in a marketplace and got me thinking even more about RR.

Back in the kitchen without a roadmap, we managed our way through a couple of creations—the group’s efforts were very impressive. But Chef Ash has nothing to worry about!

Final parting words, lovely mementos and we were on our way. A very stimulating and delicious 4 days in Napa.

With my flight not leaving until midnight from SFO, I ambled my way down Highway 29 with a stop here and there, over to Sonoma in search of Cornerstone Gallery and a wonderful antique dealer which I eventually found—not until after the official closing time but fortunately, having been a patron and finding the shop’s owner still there, I was able to hunt around for some treasures. Had it not been for the already overstuffed suitcase and hassle factor, I could have bought several things but I managed to resist temptation.

I wandered back south on Highway 101 figuring that a drive through the city of San Francisco, even on a Friday night, was worth any traffic, just to take in the view—who knows when I’ll pass this way again…The mountainsides of vineyards, the hills of Marin and that wonderful view of the Golden Gate Bridge as you emerge form the tunnel were stunning. Then it was like a scene out of Carl Sandburg’s poem as the fog rolled in and through the bridge, enveloping the city mysteriously. As quickly as it rolled in, it move out and in and out and in – well you get the idea! I managed to get a good glimpse of some favorite spots before completing my journey back the airport.

In one of the all time idiotic moves of the current and maybe future centuries, I actually walked into security with my CIA knives in my carry on bags—what was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t! I had stuffed every other non-conforming good into my suitcase, in compliance with current TSA regulations. The strange and scary part of this story was, though, that it was not the knives that set off my detention but causes unknown…Only then did they discover the knives. Aside from the sheer embarrassment and delay, no harm was done. My picture was not posted in the FBI files—or at least to my knowledge—although I’m probably on some government watch list!

Returning to the check in counter, my checked bag was retrieved, the knives secured inside, and the luggage resumed its journey to the East Coast via cargo while I trucked through security for the second (but finally uneventful) time to wait out the midnight Jet Blue red eye home. The airport pizza was not Greystone gourmet by any means but after a week of a sophisticated palate, this girl was ready for some simple American junk food and a good night’s sleep—and returning to the place I love!

-Lisa

Winter in the Garden

We’re finally getting the cold we expect winter to bring.  While this is less comfortable than the balmy December and January we had, it’s a relief to me because the plant life in our region requires cold to thrive.  The fact that there were fruit trees in bloom in Central Park in January does not bode well for the fruit crop and all the critters that depend on it.  The cold also kills a good portion of the bugs wintering in the soil.  Gotta like that!

It might seem like the cold months would be nothing but vacation for us at Rainbeau Ridge.  Alas; there’s always something to do!  As our CAP Shareholders and Members know, we’ve been keeping the lettuce going right up ‘til today and had bok choy until a couple of weeks ago.  So I’ve spent a fair amount of time sowing, transplanting and harvesting lettuce. 

I’ve also had the extreme pleasure of planning this coming season’s gardens.  This means hours spent with the gorgeous seed catalogs, looking through last season’s records to see what worked and what didn’t, trying to figure where to grow green beans, wax beans, red noodle beans, fava beans AND six different soup beans, researching methods of producing sprouts and micro-greens, arranging and re-arranging the crops on my garden maps, making sure I have all the supplies I need to get it all growing. 

I came on the scene too late last year to have this important time to imagine the arc of the season.  I can already see in my mind the early greens and peas, closely followed by the favas (I’ve never grown them before and so have just learned that they need the cold to germinate and, in fact, are a member of the pea family).  I’m excited to try some different heirloom tomatoes like Nyagous a “black” one that is strikingly beautiful and Riesentraube (“giant bunches of grapes”) cherry tomato that was used in the past to make tomato wine!  We’ll add some varieties of peppers to the lovely ones we had last year, as well as several stunning types of eggplants.  I was looking for loofah gourds to grow in the Sprouts garden and came across some “bushel basket” gourds too...that could be interesting!

The wealth of the plant world is awesome.  Seeing all the possibilities is overwhelming in such a wonderful way.  It reminds me how fortunate I am to get to do this work.  There’s something about the relative repose that the winter forces on me that makes me feel a different kind of kinship with the plants than I usually do.  It seems we’re all turned inward, gathering strength, in order to burst out again in spring.   

To get in touch with me, feel free to send an e-mail to garden@rainbeauridge.com.  I'd love to hear from you!

-Deb Taft