For a few years, our family has tended to a small slice of heaven in the foothills of Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. The rolling hills give the land beauty, and our animals and crops help contribute to its life. Garlic is our primary crop and will be a frequent topic of this blog.
So as an alternative, farms will apply sprays with the active ingredient dinotefuran, which, according to the U.SForest Service, has a low potential for risk to humans. In a report -- based on an analysis of stakeholder reports submitted to the Forest Service -- the agency said dinotefuran “is rapidly absorbed and rapidly excreted in mammals and will not accumulate in mammals with long-term exposure.”
Based on what Virginia is seeing, it’s in for a long fight. Stink bugs have “caused approximately $37 million in damage to Virginia's apple crop in 2010,” said a statement from the Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services. “Some experts worry that the pest could spread to cotton, soybeans and corn, major crops in Virginia.”
That’s bad, hands down. Yet dinotefuran is a toxic and potentially dangerous tool in the agri-chemical arsenal. Federal regulators say the bug problem is far worse than the hazards of the cure, so the emergency exemption was granted for dinotefuran, which other states apply to vegetables and grapes more often than they do to stone and pome fruits.
Advocates of sustainable and organic farming will say the dinotefuran path is a treacherous one to go down. But then, what chemical isn’t. I don’t farm the fruits in question and won’t pretend to know the financial quagmire that stink bugs have cast upon these farmers.
As someone who hopes to be a steward to the environment and protect people from both acute and chronic health hazards, the application of dinotefuran is worth keeping an eye on here in Virginia.
It sounds simple, right? Clean. Separate. Cook. Chill.
Perhaps it’s too simple.
Not long after dozens died in Europe because of an E. coli outbreak, the U.S. government launched an awareness campaign to help Americans understand how to handle food safely in order to prevent food-borne illnesses.
It’s long been known that the kitchen is the largest source of food-related contaminants, so it’s highly relevant to address this. But good kitchen habits aren’t going to prevent consumers from all physical, chemical, and biological contaminants in their food. The process begins well before the kitchen stage. And people need to understand that fact, too.
It’s anyone’s guess as to whether the four little ad-campaign words -- clean, separate, cool, chill -- will catch on the way that some of the other government awareness campaigns have. This latest one is spearheaded by the Ad Council, which The Associated Press notes in its report was “behind other famous government ad campaigns like ‘Friends don't let friends drive drunk’ and Smokey Bear’s efforts to stamp out forest fires.”
But this isn’t like those “other famous government ad campaigns.” Things like not playing with fire and buckling your seat belt and not drinking and driving are straight-forward and simple concepts. In most of these cases, too, the consumer is in complete control of how the cause-vs.-effect plays out. Food safety is far more complex. The levels of cleanliness, the thoroughness of cooking, the details in how food is handled, it’s all much more intricate than “Click it or ticket” will ever be.
Like any rules, there needs to be a balance between delivery and depth. Too much information, and there runs the risk that consumers won’t retain much, that is, if they opt to read it all in the first place. Too little information and people may fail to see the gravity of the situation and the reasons for larger threats (for example: why deli meats or ground beef carry higher risks of certain types of contamination). The government on Tuesday put out its latest message -- a message that has good intentions -- but the four little only scratch the surface of what consumers face from their food.
The government put it out there; it’s for us and for media and for our leaders to help guide the fullness of the information distribution. Go to the website to get some context and real understanding of what it means to clean, separate, cook, and chill. In too many cases, the sanitized message makes the rounds while the meat of it grows stale on some Internet shelf. Don’t let that happen here.
Nearly eight months of working, weeding, and waiting has led up to the past couple of days, during which time we got the bulk of our garlic out of the ground. (A collective “woo-hoo!” would be appropriate now.) As I mentioned in my previous post, Cherry Lane Farm are a very small operation, growing only a couple hundred bulbs -- as opposed to the thousands or tens of thousands that full-time commercial farms produce.
Still, the work is considerable for just two people.
And anyone who has grown onion-like crops can attest to the fact that removal from the ground is just the beginning of the end. For garlic, the next two to three weeks will be critical as we dry the bulbs, toughening the skins with the intent of sealing in the cloves’ flavor and freshness. Drier skins also mean that the bulbs will store longer and are less likely to succumb to mold.
To accomplish this, I recently finished building my first drying rack, which uses an unusual construction compared with what I’ve done in the past. In prior years, I have simply grouped maybe 8-12 bulbs, tied them together, and hung them. This year, drawing from the ideas of the folks at Heartsong Farm in New Hampshire, the drying trays I built require the bulbs to be hung upside down, which you can see in the photos.
The rack allows for each bulb to be strategically placed to maximize airflow around it while maintaining efficiency of space. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be able to cut back the stalks (which will shrivel considerably) and trim the roots off. From there, the bulbs will be ready to be sold to friends and to a couple of restaurants in the Roanoke, Virginia, area.
We primarily sell three varieties:
Siberian: A milder-flavored Marbled Purple Stripe garlic. I used this two years ago in a batch of tzatiki, and it was the best tzatiki I’d ever made.
Inchelium Red: A medium-flavored Artichoke garlic. This is the first year we’ve grown this variety, but it has an award-winning history dating back to the early 1990s.
Persian Star: A medium-flavored Purple Stripe garlic, though I personally believe this is border-line strong-flavored. Expect a very distinctive taste and beautiful bulbs that have purple streaks on them.
I am currently reading “Just Food” by James McWilliams, who argues about flaws in the locavore movement. The environmental underbelly of the process, he says, is that agricultural pollution isn’t primarily caused by the final transportation of the product but rather is compounded during the planting, harvesting, and processing of the crops. His early points suggest that larger, commercial farms are much more efficient than local (often, smaller) farms during many of the production stages and that their impact on the environment is considerably less than your farmer down the road.
There is a lot to be said for this approach to understanding the locavore movement, and I do take to heart some of the things that McWilliams is presenting. However, there are many questions to be asked, and I am still too early in the book to see whether I will receive answers to them. Here and now, the biggest question, as a small farmer myself, is: Why indict “the locavore movement” when some of us might be doing things right?
At Cherry Lane Farm, we have begun to harvest this year’s garlic. Over the past couple of years, we have planted more and more of our crop, meaning that the effort on both ends of the production process has become more time consuming and more difficult. What hasn’t changed with that expansion, though, is the structure of how we do things.
While I understand and accept that there is little chance sustainable farming will become the norm -- especially as global population growth fuels the need for commercial agriculture -- my wife and I at Cherry Lane Farm promote agriculture that has little-to-no impact on the environment and is healthful for the consumer. We are stewards of the land and of society. Machinery is kept to a minimum; muscle is maximized.
This week, as I began to dig up our garlic bulbs one-by-one with a shovel, I also thought back to when they were planted in October and November of last year. I took a spade and other hand tools and painstakingly dug the trenches. The only machinery used over the past eight months was a shallow hand tiller, which created trace amounts of erosion. Even looking a couple of weeks back, the garlic scapes were cut from the hardneck varieties with hand clippers -- patience being the most important part of the harvest.
Pulling the garlic from the ground, brushing the dirt away, and carefully setting it to dry is an intimate process. You become more in tune with what you’ve created and you don’t relinquish that connection to the cold metal of a machine.
Since I’m employed full-time elsewhere, my livelihood doesn’t depend on what I grow. The riches are spiritual instead of financial. And the method in which I harvest becomes impossible once a certain scale of production is reached. But as a grower and seller locally, I feed the locavore ideology. Environmentally, there are drawbacks to elements of the movement. But economically (and often nutritionally), the perks abound.
And when garlic or other produce is harvested with the simplicity of sweat and a spade, environmental stewardship becomes sound as well.