LAYERS.
Every three or four days we pull the posts up, drag the chicken wire fence to another spot, and set up new paddock for the chickens. Then we push the chicken coop in and the next day we let them out into a fresh space.Rotation, we learned at Bugtussle, is the best way to manage almost any animal system: lowering impact, spreading out fertility, and keeping the animals healthier.So last night, when the chickens had all put themselves to bed for the evening, Hannah and I went out and started taking down their portable fence when we noticed a little white egg on the ground, then another, and a third in the nest box itself. Pullet eggs! Our first! And since we only have a few birds who will be laying white eggs––the Leghorns––we know who won the race! We had noticed their combs becoming bright red, which Hannah read was a sign they're about to start laying, and sure enough, we're going to be eating some eggs this morning.Anyone who has ever had chickens can attest to the excitement you enjoy in harvesting your first eggs, even if they're roughly half the size of what they will be. You pamper the birds for months, checking daily to see if they've left you any sustenance, and just before you give up on them entirely you find three white eggs. But that makes complete sense, too: if there's anything we've learned in this business it's that you move a bunch of heavy stuff around and at the end of the day, somehow, as if by magic, food happens.- Jesse.
WENDELL WEDNESDAY.
BOOK REVIEW: THE DIRTY LIFE.
We read a great deal of books then spend a subsequent great deal of time talking about them, but just recently realized we often neglect to really mention them on the blog. With the fall approaching, bringing with it shorter and shorter days, the farmer is typically left to their own devices; left to find ways to somehow farm in the dark. And what better way to do so than with a good book? In the spirit of that, and of what will probably be an literature-rich winter for us, we've decided to occasionally post a book review (or really, a recommendation) when a book moves us. The title which most recently inspired this action was Kristin Kimball's "The Dirty Life," a story not all too different from our own, with a resolution not all too different from what we want for ourselves: a sustainable farm, family and life.
In the beginning of the book she introduces herself from this farm, while her husband cooks for her––something she refers to as "a farmer's expression of intimacy,"––already deep into this lifestyle. What makes the book special is that it's the story of how it happened, how this city dweller found herself becoming a farmer. It revolves around her first year on their upstate farm, occasionally meandering in and out of her past and future, finding its stride not solely in great stories, but in observations about the farm through city eyes. Needless to say, Hannah and I, having recently come from big cities ourselves with no real inclination as to what even happens on a farm before we arrived on one, often relate so well to the story it's obnoxious: this women has, in many ways, written our book.
But we admit we were compelled to recommend "The Dirty Life" because it is so close to our story, and because it's a love story anyone would enjoy. It's a book about farming, but prefers to simply converse with you, the reader, rationally, honestly, and often humorously about what she was going through not just as a neophyte farmer, but as an unsuspecting victim of the most underrated addictions: physical labor. We definitely enjoyed it as farmers, but agree we would have enjoyed it no matter our profession.
For us, one thing we really appreciated––and I'll end with this––is how poignant in many ways it was to what we've been going through this year: "All we could do was keep trying. We were making it up as we went along. I remember feeling a kind of reverse nostalgia then, a longing for the future, when the canon would be established, when we would know what to expect and be equipped to handle it." And how.
- Jesse.
CHOCOLATE ALMOND PEAR TART.
We have been blessed to have an ancient pear tree right in our backyard. It is HEAVY with fruit right now, and we often hear them ker-thunking to the ground, narrowly missing the occasional chicken. We have been eating them daily, and Jesse plans on making cider and wine with the excess, but I wanted to find another way to use them. While looking for recipes, I found this one courtesy of Martha Stewart (who I am kind of obsessed with right now). It turned out great, although I would recommend par-baking the tart for a few minutes before arranging the pears on top. Mine sank a little bit and so the end product was not as lovely as Martha’s….but it tasted delicious!
Things I changed in the recipe - raw almonds mashed with the mortar and pestle, turbinado sugar & honey in place of regular sugar, apricot jam instead of apple....and our crazy wild pears instead of Bartlett.
- Hannah.
