Date: June 4th 2010

1. THIS IS THE WEEK FOR LETTUCE!  Henry says it's the biggest lettuce day of the year (until fall anyway). He will have over 40 varieties, and they will be on sale from the opening bell: 2 for $5.   Henry does not want to hear anyone (I believe the word he used was 'nincompoop') say, "But I can't eat 2 lettuces . . . "  First of all, these lettuces will stay fresh for weeks in your refigerator.  Second, if you're going to eat in season, that means at certain times (the coming weeks) you're going to eat a lot of certain things (lettuce).  So have a different salad each evening, and branch out into braised lettuce, and delicious lettuce soups.  If you don't stock up this week, you'll get no sympathy from Henry next month when you complain he has no lettuce.  Com e visit the Amazing Wall of lettuce and indulge all your lettuce fantasies.

 

2. THIS WAS NOT PEAK WEEK FOR STRAWBERRIES -- Last Week Was. Teresa was chagrinned to find many fewer strawberries than expected, and she wants to let you know that last week was actually the peak week, and she's bringing up less this week. If you have to have some of these amazingly delicious berries, come early.  

3.   We are thrilled to see The Seasons on Henry’s Farm get a glowing review in the NY Times (will appear in print in this Sunday’s Book Review section) – and that Zoe got the closing quote!  (I told her she will for sure get into journalism school now, with her writing appearing in the NY Times already!  btw, if anyone has connections with Medill Journalism School at Northwestern, talk to Zoe at the Market on Saturday. She'll be there with her best friend Rhea, both of whom have been harvesting since dawn today.)  Thanks to every one of  you for your support and friendship that has gotten us this far  -- and feel free to spread the word!

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/books/review/Gardening-t.html?pagewanted=2&nl=books&emc=booksupdateema4

 

Gardening Books

By DOMINIQUE BROWNING

 . . .

For a more serious yet equally engaging look at the farmer’s life, pick up THE SEASONS ON HENRY’S FARM: A Year of Food and Life on a Sustainable Farm (Surrey/Agate, $25), by Terra Brockman. This is by far the most informative and earnest of the back-to-the-land memoirs; anyone thinking about farming as a way of life should read it. “The Seasons on Henry’s Farm” isn’t full of peril. It doesn’t warn away or beckon hither. It’s a sober, cleareyed assessment of what needs to get done, when, how and why. By describing a year’s worth of chores on her brother’s farm in central Illinois, Brockman give us an excellent idea of how demanding and profoundly rewarding farming can be.

She cleverly opens the book in November, with the annual planting of some 40,000 cloves of garlic under the hunter’s moon. Her prose is brisk, yet richly detailed. The chapter on the ice storm that felled a beloved oak, which gave Henry a way to propagate mushrooms, is a marvel of concise wisdom, and so is one called “Drakes Mount,” for anyone who ever wondered exactly how birds do it. By the time spring arrived, I was eyeing my suitcase and seriously contemplating a stint as an ­intern.

Brockman gives new meaning to the term “earth ­mother.” She brooks no nonsense or misplaced sentimentality about life on a farm. She can be eloquent even on the life of swine, watching piglets suckling while “the mother sow’s grunts and moans turned erotic.” And then, in the next line, there’s a reference to “the hogs we’ll butcher” that same day. When Henry decides to charge customers for biodegradable plastic bags (and Brockman adroitly explains why even those aren’t good), some of his customers are furious. She’s wryly funny about how heresy quickly becomes practicality.

Brockman is an avid reader: Shakespeare, William Carlos Williams, Marcel Proust and Gabriel García Márquez stride across Henry’s fields. And their eloquence rubs off: her descriptions of winter’s quiet make you want to try experiencing those grueling summer days on the farm, simply to deserve that rich relaxation when the crops are all in.

Brockman’s family is also an important part of the narrative. Her sister Teresa grows fruits and herbs and raises goats, hens and bees on her own farm five miles away. Henry’s wife and three children do their part to help; his aging parents pitch in whenever they can. Even the dogs are skillful, dedicated workers. The children are such graceful writers that they, too, contribute to the book. “I remember how once Grandpa told me never to look forward at how much there is left to do,” Brockman’s niece Zoe writes about a particularly taxing session weeding lettuces, “just look back at how much you’ve accomplished.” A valuable lesson for anyone who finds herself knee-deep in tomatoes — or goat manure — this summer.