Tales from the Expoland Poultry Sale

As many of you may know, Nick and I have decided to cut back on our commercial farming and concentrate on homesteading. We discovered what everyone else already knows: we are too old to run a vegetable packing and hauling operation. As esteemed a career longshoreman is, it is not what I envisioned when getting into farming.

We also had an “ah ha!” moment (actually, more of a “duh!” moment) when doing our books midseason (hey, at least we do them). Now, we always knew the farm lost money. We have, for every year we have farmed, been in that year before the year we make a profit. But what we didn’t realize is that, even keeping our current number of employees, we lose LESS money when we sell absolutely nothing than when we run our (on paper) wildly successful and oversubscribed DC CSA and restaurant sales business.

So, starting next season, we are growing for ourselves and anyone who is really nice to us. We’ll probably still sell some meat, mainly by pre-order. We’ll have more time to enjoy our weekend guests, and we’ll take vacations in the summer, so I can stop bitterly mumbling through August as I watch Facebook status update after status update: “Perfect weather on the Vineyard again!” “Another beautiful day at the beach!” “Clam bake time!” Mine: “Still at the farm. Still hot. Pigs smell.”

And with our change in gears, the blog will change too. Though I will keep posting recipes and ideas for the CSA vegetables, I want to start using more to write about life on the farm. For years, people who get the farm’s rambling emails about sale items or the CSA have told me I ought to write a book (and I DO know they probably meant: “you ought to write a book instead of bothering me with all this claptrap”). I agree (with both sentiments), but I also have found I freeze right up when sitting down, plop, to WRITE A BOOK. So I thought I would ease into it one blog post at a time (and yes, two hours to put my head under in a cold pool).

That’s a long introduction for today’s dissertation on the Expoland poultry auction, my morning’s activity, and where I am sitting right now, on the back of the trailer in one of the few poop free spots available, marveling at the fast internet connection here in the middle of a gravel parking lot in the middle of a field in the middle of an industrial parks in the middle of the mountains.

Every third Saturday, outside of Staunton VA, in Expoland, Augusta Feed sponsors a tailgate sale. $5 to get in for sellers, mostly poultry and rabbits though today I‘ve seen potbelly pigs, miniature goats, turkeys, ducks, and a ratty dog.

This is only the second time I’ve been to Expoland. The other time was the Augusta County fair a few years ago. I remember it being really hot, really dusty, and really full of things you don’t want to see or smell on a hot dusty day in a gravel parking lot: Fried Oreo stands, people standing in line at the fried Oreo stands wearing halter tops (and clearly not on the first fried Oreo of their lives), nervous sheep (or perhaps not nervous but suffering from irritable bowel syndrome sheep), fat, sweaty crying toddlers set in the dirt while their caretakers tried to toss rings over soda bottles to win the highly flammable large pink stuffed snake(with bead eyes perfect for the fat, sweaty, crying babies to stuff up their noses later) that I swear I saw for sale the day before sitting for sale on a piece of plastic outside the gas station.

“ExpoLAND” suggests an all encompassing expo experience, in the way that DisneyLAND is an overload, all senses Disney extravaganza. But this is no land. Maybe Expoarea. Or Expogravelparkinglot.

The tailgate sale doesn’t even get to use the Expoland building – a cement floored, corrugated steel barn with bathrooms, a fact I would have resented more had there been anywhere to buy coffee at the sale. But live poultry was pretty much it, which surprised me. When we were all scared of bird flu, before the year of the swine refocused our paranoia, I remember all sorts of warnings about “open air poultry markets.” I also remember thinking at the time, since we don’t live in Vietnam, what are the chances I’ll run into someone who has been to an open air poultry market. Turns out, I am now someone who goes to open air poultry markets. I’ll put “flu vaccine” on this year’s to do list.

We brought a bunch of our older layers to sell, thinning the flock in anticipation of our downsizing. They sold in the first 30 minutes, with Nick inexplicitly haggling the price of the first lot down to the great confusion of the buyers, a group of Arab men, only one of whom spoke English, and none of whom understood why Nick, in a bad Arab accent (his way of helping bridge the language gap), kept insisting on a price lower than the sign said. “Bird flu,” I thought of adding to help make Nick’s case, but didn’t because my fake Arab accent is even worse than his.

It smells like fermenting corn here. Corn and chicken poop.

Heard often as the crowd walks back and forth: “Them’s good eatin’.”

Heard only once: “I don’t eat nuthin’ that comes in my house. Do you eat your family??”

Constantly in the background: Crowing, all sorts, some pathetic, some triumphant. The banty roosters are the triumphant ones, I believe, because they are too small to eat. I do not understand the sheer number of banties on sale here today. We have a few, but they were given to us. They are amusing running around the barn, but I cannot see paying for one, even less moving the volume of banties that seem to be moving today. I think they are the beanie babies of the poultry world.

Seen: Two big men, in their thirties, in baseball caps and sleeveless t-shirts, coffee in one hand, chicken leg (attached to the rest of the chickens, nice Buff Orringtons) in the other. Years ago, I would have thought, “What’s with the chickens?” Today, I thought, “where’d they get the coffee?”

The king of the poultry tailgate sales: He is about 6’ 4”, tanned, with flowing silver hair, and a ravaged face in the manner of Keith Richards. He wears low, loose jeans that probably were new in Haight Ashbury circa ’68 and a vest, no shirt. He is legendary in the world of poultry arbitrage. He churns chickens like butter, picking up boxes at this sale, selling them at a profit at the next sale down the road. He makes his living this way, tailgate sales only, and he is alive so I guess it is working for him.

Two of the largest roosters I’ve ever seen, in a cage, the sole item for sale in the back of a sad looking man’s pick-up. “Just don’t have the heart to kill ‘em anymore,” he said as I admired the birds.

By 10 AM, we had sold all the bird we brought, including the Barred Rock that escaped and was chased around the parking lot by a Mexican in a red shiny shirt, two women with matching John Deere t-shirts, and a chubby preteen in a glittery tube top and high heeled cowboy boots. We loaded up our tables and empty cages in order to get back to the farm quickly so we could work outside in the hottest part of the day. As we drove off, I heard the king of the tailgate sales making one last deal for a cage full of banty roosters. All is as it should be in the Land of Expos.

Pesto

Summer means basil and basil means pesto (though you can use all sorts of non-basily things to make pesto. In fact, the only thing you REALLY need in pesto, in my opinion is garlic and olive oil. And salt. You always need salt).

I make pesto in the Cuisinart, and I can’t imagine doing it any other way (blender, maybe – mortar and pestle, you’ve got to be kidding). You start with garlic. I like pesto really garlicy, so I put in maybe 8-10 peeled cloves. Then I add some more because I am already getting the Cuisinart dirty, so why not use it to chop garlic for whatever else you are making for dinner – or use it in a batch of salad dressing.

After the garlic is done, throw in a small handful of nuts. Pine nuts are traditional, but they are so expensive, and if they are just one day older than they should be they make your mouth taste bitter for a month (I am not exaggerating, this happened to me, and apologies to the Pine Nut Promotion board). I use whatever nut is on sale – walnuts usually -- and sometimes don’t use nuts at all, like when I make spring garlic pesto.

Chop the nuts with the garlic. Then jam a passel of basil leaves in the Cuisinart – fill it up – and chop that. Salt. Then, with the motor running, pour in a stream of olive oil (I should say “good quality olive oil” because recipes always say that, as if, without that, you would just go out and buy motor-grade olive oil. And why don’t we get that on every ingredient? I assume “good quality” butter milk is better than the regular sort – same with “good quality” flour or nuts or chocolate, but with olive oil, we have to be reminded to buy the decent stuff).

When the mixture gets to be the consistency of melted ice cream (with basil sprinkles), taste and salt more if needed. If you are freezing the pesto, do it now before you add parmesan cheese. You can also use it pre-cheese as an oil in which to sauté vegetables, like some of that squash you have all over the place. If you are eating it right away, add parmesan cheese (good quality, please), enough to get the pesto to the consistency of onion dip.

Now use it for everything – combined with tomato sauce on homemade pizza, spread on old bread or pita and toasted for garlic bread, tossed with mayonnaise and used as a dressing for pasta salad with veggies or for (good quality Green Fence Farm) chicken salad, on a cracker or slice of bread with a slice of tomato and brie or blue cheese.

And, as I alluded to before, you can substitute any number of things for basil (or combine with basil) in this recipe – spring garlic (in which case, obviously, cut out the garlic cloves), green onions (in which case, cut down the garlic cloves), parsley, red pepper, olives.

Caveat Emptor

Check out this succinct explanation of what we were all afraid was true. All of the meats and eggs from Green Fence Farm are pastured. Though, as the article explains, all are not wholly grass fed – chickens and pigs can’t get enough protein and energy from a diet of only grass. Our pigs, for example, have a diet of grass, natural feed, and slop from our and the Staunton Grocery kitchen; the latter means, of course, they eat better than me. And the chickens get day old bread from Newtown Bakery – or they get the day old bread that Nick and I don’t pull out of the bag and eat ourselves.

Squash

We finally got some rain, and so, as the Capitol Hill CSA members are well aware, we are awash in squash. Like basil and tomatoes, they love the hot weather as long as they get a drink once in a while (not unlike me, though the drinks need to come more frequently).

The recipe and picture below were in the Washington Post last Wednesday. My mother made the recipe for a family and friends dinner this weekend. But of course, coming from a long line of people who do not take instruction well, she made several modifications – the squash was blanched, not grilled. The cheese was not pepper jack, because several members of the eating team don’t like it – I think she used a regular jack, or maybe a mix of a mild cheddar and jack. No pimentos, because Nick refuses to eat any cooked peppers. No cilantro because she had already veered away from the Mexican version. More sour cream than the recipe called for because it was in her fridge and needed to get used up. Some mayonnaise too because this is a SOUTHERN summer recipe, and all southern summer recipes, including cake, include mayonnaise.

Summary:

Every Southern Junior League cookbook includes a version of squash casserole, which always makes an appearance in the summer as soon as squash becomes abundant. Pepper Jack cheese and cilantro give this one a Southwestern edge.

MAKE AHEAD: The casserole can be assembled and refrigerated a day in advance. Bring it to room temperature before baking it on the grill.


4 to 6 servings

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 pounds medium yellow squash and zucchini, trimmed and cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch planks
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup creme fraiche or sour cream
• 4 scallions, white and light-green parts, chopped (1/3 cup)
• 3/4 cup grated pepper Jack cheese
• 2 tablespoons pimentos, drained
• Leaves and tender stems from 8 sprigs cilantro, chopped (2 tablespoons)
• 1/3 cup panko (Japanese-style) bread crumbs
• 1 tablespoon salted butter, cut into small cubes
• 1/4 teaspoon Spanish smoked paprika
Directions:


Prepare the grill for direct heat: If using a gas grill, preheat to medium-high (450 degrees). If using a charcoal grill, light the briquettes in a chimney starter and let them burn until the flames subside and a light layer of ash covers the briquettes (about 20 to 25 minutes). Dump the briquettes in a mound (or, preferably, into 2 half-moon-shaped briquette baskets) in the center of the grill. For a medium-hot fire, you should be able to hold your hand about 6 inches above the coals for 6 to 8 seconds. Spray the grill rack with nonstick cooking oil spray, then place it on the grill.

Lightly spray the squash slices on both sides with olive oil cooking spray. Season generously with salt and pepper. Cook the squash for about 6 minutes, turning frequently, until the slices are well browned on both sides and soft but still slightly firm. Transfer to a bowl and cool completely. The yield should be about 3 cups.

Blot the cooled squash slices on paper towels, then cut them it into 1/2-inch chunks, placing them in a large bowl. Add the creme fraiche or sour cream, scallions, cheese, pimento and cilantro; mix well and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Lightly spray a 2-quart casserole with nonstick cooking oil spray, then spread the squash mixture in the dish. Scatter the bread crumbs and butter cubes evenly over the top, then sprinkle with smoked paprika.

Meanwhile, prepare the grill for indirect grilling: If using charcoal, light the charcoal in a chimney starter and let the briquettes burn until the flames subside and a light layer of ash covers the briquettes (about 20 to 25 minutes). Open the grill's bottom vents. Dump the lighted coals into 2 mounds (or, preferably, into 2 half-moon-shaped briquette baskets) on opposite sides of the grill. (If using gas, with a two-burner grill, set one burner to medium-low and leave the other unlit; with three or more burners, set the outside or front and rear burners to medium-low and leave the center burners unlit.)

Place the casserole on the area of the grill that is not directly above the briquettes or a lit burner. Cover the grill, vents open, and cook for 30 to 40 minutes, until the casserole is lightly browned and bubbling. (The internal temperature of the grill should hover around 350 degrees.) Serve hot.

Quail Eschabeche

Below is my favorite quail recipe ever – from a 2008 Gourmet (sob, I miss it) article on global cooking in Paris. Of course, you could just wrap the little suckers in bacon and roast or grill (what would a recipe from me be without some bacon component), but, surprisingly, I like this better.
A globe's worth of influences go into this tender quail, but the result is a very subtle dish with a classic French balance.

Active Time: 25 min
Total Time: 2 1/2 hr (includes cooling)

4 whole quail (1 1/2 pounds)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil plus additional for drizzling
2 fennel bulbs (1 pound total), stalks discarded and bulbs chopped
3 medium shallots, finely chopped (1/2 cup)
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 lemongrass stalk, 1 or 2 outer layers discarded and lower 4 inches of stalk minced
1/2 cup raisins
1 (2-inch) cinnamon stick (preferably Mexican/Ceylon canela)
1 cup dry white wine

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Pat quail dry and season all over with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper (total). Heat oil in an ovenproof 12-inch heavy skillet over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Sear quail, breast side down, until golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Transfer to a plate.
Add fennel, shallots, garlic, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper to skillet and sauté until fennel is pale golden, 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in lemongrass, raisins, cinnamon stick, and wine. Bring to a boil, then cover pot and braise in oven 30 minutes. Nestle quail, breast side up, in vegetables, then cover and braise until thighs pull easily from joints, about 20 minutes. Cool completely, uncovered. Serve at room temperature, drizzled with olive oil.

Cooks' note:
Quail can be made 1 day ahead and chilled.

Finally, the beet recipes!

As part of our continuing “day late and a dollar short” series, we finally get around to telling you what to do with those beets we keep giving you (but probably will stop doing so until the Fall – we just replanted and hope to see the second crop by September, or so).

First, some basic beet information – they are a storage crop, so you can keep them for a while, up to a month, in the refrigerator. Just TWIST off the tops (which can be eaten like any green – prepare as you would spinach or kale), and put the beets, skin, tap root, and an inch or so of green stem, into a plastic bag in your refrigerator.

The Basic cooking of beets is simple. Wash (but do not peel) them and drop them into a pot of boiling water; boil until they are potato consistency – that will take about 35 minutes for large beets, 30 for medium, and 20 for small. Just poke them with a fork to check if they are done. Drain and let cool off. The skins will slip off when they are cool. Take off the top stem and the tap root, and do what you will with them.

Or you can bake them, which I prefer, though I can’t say why. Prepare as above, and let them stay damp after washing. Cover a pan with tin foil (why, you ask? – just do it, and you’ll thank me. There is a lot of sugar in beets that cooks off and caramelizes…). Put the beets in the pan and cover it tightly with tin foil. Cook in a 400 degree oven for about 45 minutes. Then treat as above (cool, peel, process).

From this point, you can make my favorite, very easy dish – beet salad. Just slice or chop your beets (I like to slice the chiogga’s (the red beets we had out at the CSA) because they have a neat bulls eye design inside. Make your favorite balsamic dressing (or use mine: 1 part walnut oil, one part balsamic vinegar, one part soy sauce). Sprinkle the dressing lightly over the beets, add blue cheese crumbles, and toasted walnuts.

I love serving this on a tray next to a salad of cold green beans with bacon crumbles (had to work bacon in here somewhere) and chopped egg, and a lightly dressed (or slathered in pesto mayonnaise – my choice) potato salad.
If you boil 3 medium beets, also as above, you can make the famous Harvard beets (I believe you need to use RED beets for this recipe to stay true to the crimson tradition): Reserve ½ cup of your boiling liquid when the beets are done. In a medium saucepan, combine two tablespoons of sugar, 1 tablespoon of cornstarch, and ¼ of a teaspoon salt. Stir in the reserved beet cooking liquid, ¼ cup of vinegar, and 2 tablespoons of butter. Heat and stir until mixture thickens. Peel and slice your beets then add them to the mixture and heat through.

From CSA member Karla Ramsey, a beet recipe for those of you who are deciding you really don’t like beets (this is really pretty too):

Beet Hummus

3 medium beets, cleaned, roasted, peeled then cut into chunks (stick whole beets in oven at 375* then roast until a knife inserts easily)
2 Tbsp tahini (sesame seed paste)
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil
salt to taste

Process all ingredients in a food processor. Blend until smooth. Tasted and adjust seasoning. Serve with a hefty drizzle of olive oil.

Finally! The turnip recipes….

Isn’t it lucky that turnips save? And that we will see them again in the autumn, so you will get a chance to use these recipes soon.

I’ll start out with a recipe I put in the blog last year, but since no one read it then, I can repeat it here (and since no one is reading the blog NOW, I can both admit to repeating it and repeat it again next year). This is simple: Peel your turnip and dice it. Dice some bacon and fry it up until starts to render its fat. Toss the turnip dice in the fat and fry until crispy and brown. If you want, add chopped onions (green or otherwise) about half way through the browning of the turnips. If you have tender greens, turnip or otherwise, toss them in about three-quarters of the way through the dicing. Salt and eat with a hearty meat (or pungent vegetable, if you are a vegetarian).

And from one CSA member (Kate’s comment – this will make a great fall dish as well, and luckily, you’ll have turnips in the fall): here's a great turnip recipe from Farm Journal's Country Cookbook of 1959! It is delicious!

TURNIP STEW: The Czechoslovakian way....

3 T butter
3 C diced cooked turnips
1/2 C whole kernel corn
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium apple, sliced
nutmeg
sour cream
horse-radish

+Melt butter, add turnips, corn, onion, apple and seasonings. Simmer until apple and onion are soft...about 15 minutes.
+Add sour cream, heat through; add horse-radish and service.

And another member sent in a whole pile of recipes, including some for beets, which might be a hint for next week’s delivery:

Turnip and Beet Recipes
(nabbed from Live Earth CSA’s website)

Honey-Peppered Turnips
from Greene on Greens
Serves 4 to 6

1 tbsp. unsalted butter
2 tbsp. honey
1 lb. turnips, peeled, cut into 1/4" cubes
1/2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
Salt
Chopped fresh parsley

Melt the butter with the honey in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir in the turnips and pepper. Cook, covered, until tender, about 12 minutes. Add salt to taste and sprinkle with parsley.


Miscellaneous turnip preparation ideas
<> Many cookbooks suggest they are good mashed like potatoes, or with potatoes. So pull out your favorite mashed potatoes recipe and make it with half turnips, half potatoes.

<> Try them raw! Slice or sliver them in salads or vegetable platters. Serve with a favorite dip.

<> Add turnips to stir-fries for a nice crunch and a perky flavor.

<> Bake 'em! Scrub and remove tops/tails from baby turnips and put in a baking pan with chunks of carrots, onions and potatoes, drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper, cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees Funtil tender, about 45 minutes.

<> [from "The New Joy of Cooking"] Turnip greens are especially good cooked with other greens, like collards, in water flavored with salt pork or a ham bone. They are traditionally seasoned with sprinklings of oil, vinegar, hot sauce or ground red pepper, and sugar.


Simple Skillet Turnips and Apples
from the Rolling Prairie Cookbook
serves 4

1 tbsp. canola oil
1/2 C chopped onion
1 medium apple, copped (approx. 3/4C)
3 C chopped turnips (1/2" cubes)
1/2 C fresh apple cider or juice
1 small cinnamon stick
1/4 tsp. salt

Heat oil in a large skillet over med. heat. Add onion and sauté for 3 to 5 minutes. Add apple and sauté 2 more minutes. Add turnips and rest of ingredients. Cover and reduce heat to medium-low. Stir occasionally, and add more liquid if necessary to prevent sticking. Simmer until turnips are tender, approx. 20 minutes. Remove cinnamon stick before serving.



Roasted Root Vegetables scented with Apple and Mustard
from Your Organic Kitchen (modified slightly)
Serves 8 (but you could halve it to serve 4)

3 C apple cider or juice
1 C fruity white wine (like Gewürztraminer)
2 tbsp. smooth Dijon mustard
3 tbsp. butter
4 -5 lbs. root vegetables, cut into bite-sized pieces, both sweet (like carrots and chiogga beets) and savory (like turnips and potatoes)
Salt and freshly ground pepper

In a saucepan, reduce the cider/juice, wine, and mustard over high heat to 1 1/2 C. Whisk in the butter and pour over the vegetables, tossing to coat. Season with salt and pepper and place in a single layer in a large roasting pan in a preheated 375 degree oven. Roast for 1 hour or so, or until the vegetables are lightly browned and tender. Stir 3 or 4 times while roasting to promote even browning.

Grated Turnip (or Rutabaga) and Apple Salad
from Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant
serves 4 to 6

1 C peeled and grated raw turnips or rutabaga
1 C peeled and grated tart apples
½ C chopped fresh parsley
juice of one large lemon
1 tbsp. vegetable oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Combine everything, toss, cover, and chill.

Chilled Beet and Buttermilk Soup
serves 4 to 6 (can be increased/decreased proportionally without problem)
4 C chopped cooked beets*
1 C unsweetened apple juice [Billy Bob’s!]
2 C buttermilk
1 tbsp. minced fresh dill
¼ C minced scallions or chives
salt to taste
finely chopped cucumber (for garnish)
*about 4-5 medium beets, more if smaller.
In a blender or food processor, combine the beets, apple juice, and buttermilk and purée until smooth. Transfer to a bowl or storage container and stir in the dill and scallions or chives. Refrigerate at least 2 hours. Add salt to taste and serve topped with finely chopped cucumber.

Beet and Gorgonzola Potato Salad
6 to 8 medium thin-skinned potatoes (such as Yukon Gold or Yellow Finn)
4 medium to large beets
1/3 lb. gorgonzola or feta cheese
1 small red onion, fine dice

Dressing:
1/4 C olive oil
1/4 C red wine vinegar
1-2 tbsp. horseradish
Dried thyme to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

Roast potatoes and beets in oven at 425 degrees for 50-60 minutes (until soft when pierced). Let cool. Dice to bite size and mix with diced onion and cheese. Some people like to skin the beets (which you should only do after the roasting), which is quite messy, but has a nicer presentation. Prepare dressing, and toss. Can be served immediately, but flavors blend better if refrigerated overnight.