Revolt

This morning my previously supportive husband suggested that we find someone to buy out half our CSA share for a quarter of what we paid so nothing would "go to waste". I tried to explain that nothing was really being wasted, that only a couple of things ended in the compost heap because I had been working and lacked the time to cook enough to use it all, and that now that school is out, I'll be much better at planning meals. But the reality is, how do we split a share fairly? Most veggies come in a single family size quantity. To split each item in half (1/2 a turnip for you; 1/2 a turnip for me) would leave two families with not enough to eat, but to divvy the vegetables by item (You get the rutabagas; I'll take the sugar snap peas)would certainly leave someone dissatisfied. My response was, " Absolutely not."

The revolt continued this evening when Rich came home from work and found out about the Swiss chard au gratin baking in the oven. "Are greens the only thing this guy grows? Why aren't there any tomatoes or cucumbers?" I tried to explain Connecticut's climate and the growing needs of those hot weather fruits, but again he demanded, "Why are there only greens to eat? I didn't sign up for greens!"

After a vodka tonic, he calmed down enough to try the au gratin.

Preparing the gratin wasn't difficult: I took a large bunch of rainbow Swiss chard (beautiful stuff!), chopped the stems separately from the leaves and sauteed it, stems first, with butter and a chopped onion. After the stems and onions were done, I added the chopped leaves to the skillet until they wilted. Meanwhile, in another pan, I melted butter and added a minced garlic clove, a cup of bread crumbs and some chopped fresh parsley. Setting that aside, I put the finished chard into a casserole dish. In the chard skillet, I started a typical white sauce: one tablespoon of butter, one tablespoon of flour, and 1 cup of milk whisked together over medium heat. I dumped that into the casserole with the chard, mixed in a cup of grated cheddar cheese, and topped it all with breadcrumbs. It baked in the oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, and it rested for about 10 minutes before serving.

All my guys, including my husband, looked askance at the stuff when it was served. Not a very pretty dish, but almost everyone liked it. Rich went up for seconds. Conrad discovered that it made his plain white rice more palatable. Daniel complained for a brief moment about the onions, but polished it all off. Only Zachary, age 6, wouldn't eat it. He kept calling it the "egg rotten" and preferred to have no dessert than to force it down.

There were no leftovers, and the revolt seems to have died down for now. We'll see how kohlrabi goes over tomorrow.

Getting Up-to-Date

Due to the end of work, as I mentioned before, I didn't spend a lot of time on my CSA share, neither planning and cooking, nor writing about it, so I do feel a need to share a few successes and failures before I plow ahead.

Week 2, I received a lovely head of "Chinese cabbage", according to Farmer Paul. Stop and Shop had the same sort of cabbage labeled "Napa cabbage". I know I've heard of Napa cabbage, but I'm not sure if I had ever tried it. One of the great things about the CSA is expanding my diet to include all sorts of things. I shredded the whole cabbage into a slaw, adding peanuts, Chinese noodles and sesame seeds and I tossed it with a dressing of soy sauce, sesame oil, and honey. It went over extremely well at Daniel's family birthday celebration. After my grandmother, parents, aunt and uncle went at it, I had an empty bowl to put away. Daniel and Zachary didn't want to try it; they were eating store-bought broccoli. Conrad enjoyed the slaw, though.

Another huge success was grilled baby bok choy. Farmer Paul stated that it was one of those serendipitous successes, as the shareholders love baby bok choy, and the farm was good at growing it. Count me among the bok choy lovers! I had some trepidation: there was a ton of it in the box. But I sliced each one in half (they ranged in size from 5 to 8 inches long, and 1-3 inches in diameter). After brushing each with ponzu sauce and sesame oil, I grilled them on medium just until they had some nice lines on them. They continued to cook and wilt a bit on the serving plate. I sprinkled a few sesame seeds on them just before serving. Daniel said they were too tangy, but the rest thought they were great! So for Daniel, I'll skip Ponzu, I guess.

The Beginnings

My first CSA pick-up was on June 10. I was still working at that point (I am an elementary school teacher), so I didn't have a lot of free time for planning and cooking extravagant meals. The end of the school year is a hasty, paper-work filled pursuit and count-down to field day. I'm usually lucky to get a box of mac n cheese to the table.

However, I had a wax-coated box full of veggies: mesclun salad greens, radishes, a quart of strawberries, a large bag of spinach, some broccoli raab...there was probably more, but I wasn't focusing on the what as much as the how.

The strawberries were gone in minutes. The mesclun salad was devoured quickly, too, as we are all good salad eaters. I sliced up a radish into my husband's and my salads each night. Rich pointed out right away, that he wasn't a fan of turnips. I replied, as patiently as I could, that these were not turnips, but radishes, and how in the hell could he know he wasn't a fan if he didn't know their name? He ate them.

Spinach was also an easy sell. My boys (both adult and child) were already used to me sneaking spinach into all sorts of meals. We had spinach on my homemade pizza, spinach layered into a lasagna, and, for Rich and me, a nice bed of spinach sauteed in garlic under our sesame-crusted salmon.

Broccoli raab, though, is another matter. My husband was quite clear some years ago on the subject of broccoli raab. "Too bitter. Vile. Why do people eat this stuff?" I wasn't about to let it go to waste after spending so much money. So I blanched it, chopped it, and made a nice pot of Italian sausages, onions, peppers and broccoli raab in the hopes that no one would notice the green stuff. Between all the savory flavors of sausage and onions and all, plus the big crusty rolls and melted mozzarella cheese, the broccoli raab went entirely unnoticed.

The second box also contained a fair number of greens, not a usual part of our diet, and therefore, not a usual part of my cooking plans. I struggled and (gasp!) had to compost some things that I could not use in time. But school ended last week, and I have gotten better at planning some meals around the veggies in the box.

The Background

A couple of summers back, I fell in love with a farmer. That's partially true. Paul was cute, if a bit shorter than I prefer. He had some cool glasses and he knew how to talk compost, aphids, blossom end rot and powdery mildew. He was enthusiastic about the idea of running his farm equipment on biodiesel made in my husband's kits. He met me without fail each week at the organic farmer's market in Sandy Hook Center. But what really made me fall for him were his tomatoes. Green zebras, Cherokee purples, the classic brandywines...I got to the point where I couldn't separate the man from the organic produce. It was true love.

And then my heart was broken.

Paul's farm venture was rather new. He was working farmers' markets to peddle his produce while working up to his real dream: Community Supported Agriculture. After two years of rendezvous in the Hook, he disappeared from my life. He had handed out CSA applications during his last October at the markets, but we were on hard times. There was no way I could afford to pre-pay for a season's worth of vegetables. I felt abandoned, and had to suffer for a year trying to get my sad, shady plot of earth to produce a few Cherokee purples as consolation.

As my family's finances slowly recovered, I decided it was time to join Farmer Paul's CSA. I went to forthillfarm.com and filled out the application, only to be placed on the waiting list. For two years. This winter, I got a letter, completely by surprise in the mail. I was in, as long as I coughed up 600+ dollars for the vegetables by June 1st. Expensive, yes, but there was no way I was going to the end of the list again while waiting to become rich folks.

So the following posts will be my adventures preparing meals for my husband (who, before marrying me, considered the pickle on his burger to be a suitable daily allowance of vegetables), my three sons (who, while far better veggie-eaters than most American children, still draw the line at anything that isn't broccoli, carrots, green beans or salad) and myself (who will eat anything but canned tuna fish). Wish me luck!