It was refreshing to have the means by which to make some of the most amazing beef soup I’ve ever had all at hand when hubs and I came down with whatever it is the tiny people sent around and brought around while family visited – sorry guys, we love you, but we’re still just recovering. We needed to make a soup since we’ve had some random cold days again – there have been too many quick wintery times in Florida followed by brief summery periods in the 80’s – and a few of our less resilient potato plants didn’t recover from the initial minor frost damage of the first freeze.
Our Dakota Rose potatoes had to come out early (sad for our yields, but happy for our bellies!) and while I know I looked at them when we received the seed potatoes in the mail, I didn’t remember just how pink they are. A pretty potato, aptly named for its rose color, though maybe I’m not enough of a guru to tell potato taste differences I’d say that it was a very delicious red potato not much different from other red potatoes I’ve had, except that I know for certain that the potatoes I grew were not exposed to any pesticides or herbicides.
I learned early on in my life as Go-Green (as a few of my coworkers call me) that if you can only buy a few things organic, potatoes should be one of them. Root crops do as any plant root does and act as a sponge to suck up nutrients from the soil. Unfortunately, this also means they will suck up anything else in the soil including things that you wouldn’t ever think about spraying in your mouth, but people frequently douse crops in.
While we haven’t had a great deal of luck with most of our carrots this Fall/Winter, the Parisian carrots turned out at least a few golf ball sized fellas. Granted, this is the first time I’ve grown these, so for all I know, they’re not supposed to be golfball, but softball sized, but as long as nobody tells me that, I can live in my ignorance and think we did ok. I supplemented some organic carrots from my 23 or so lbs waiting to be peeled, chopped, and brined for curry carrots (btw – unless these turn out amazingly well, I’m not sure I’ll put that much work into processing carrots for much of anything unless they are all grown by me and there’s an actual winter coming where I won’t be able to grow things) since the Parisians weren’t quite enough to fill up the several gallons of brothy soup I was making.
Need I say more? Ornamental Fringed, Scotch Blue Curled, and Lacinato (since none of those were monstrously huge and contributing entirely enough on their own).
Using grass fed soup bones of the cow whose 1/4 of a body resides in our trunk freezer, I made up a very potatoey, somewhat spicey (Bird’s Eye Chiles are delicious) soup that was great for clearing our sinuses and getting those runny noses even runnier.
I’ve done better than hubs at recovering, and have less drippy nose and more cough and whatever else, but I could use a few days just being in the garden to cure everything. I enjoy my job very much. I got paid to take kids to the Strawberry Festival today – as in, not only did I not have to pay, but was on the clock while I was there – but I look forward very much to the day when I can dig my hands into the soil and take my afternoon tea on my own property (or even someone else’s as that’s where we plan to begin) with my shovel resting nearby and my head full of the next crop needing to be pricked out and transplanted.
Sorry I’ve been quiet around here. Hub’s family came into town, we got sick, and there’s still a weekly market to keep up with things for and produce things for, the farm/garden to tend, the overflowing population of bunnies that says we’ve been more successful than anticipated with breeding, and all those other things I’d like to do but just can’t find the time for.
Still haven’t gotten around to the root beer, probably should feed that ginger bug so it doesn’t die on me, and having trouble with sourdough bread, but I’m encouraged knowing that my first loaf was an awesome accident, so I’ll keep trying. With that, as well as everything else. Keep trying, tea drinking, and taking the occasional late drumming lesson with friends for supportive therapy.