What I love about this time of year is that there is a never-ending list of to-dos; most of which need to be done now if not yesterday.

What I hate about this time of year is that there is a never-ending list of to-dos; most of which need to be done now if not yesterday.

And, of course, the weather never cooperates — no matter how you look at it. Sunday afternoon we worked to build fences in snow, wind, rain, sleet, hail, and sunshine all in the course of about four hours. At the rate we’re going, this year will rival the spring of 2011 for late planting dates, too. If memory serves, I was just finally getting the first batch of green bean seeds in the ground the second week of June and that year, like this one, was more wet than cold.

This year there’s an added layer of urgency though, more pressing deadlines about which I will tell you more very soon, but suffice to say the second week of June isn’t going to work for me this year so the beans (and everything else) will be done before then or not at all.

The bright side to a long, chilly spring like this one is that there has been only one hard frost after the weather warmed, which should bode well for the fruit crops that were all but decimated by last year’s very early warm up followed by weeks of frost. Blossom viability begins to diminish with as little as an hour of below-freezing temps, but one night is certainly better than weeks worth of nights. I have high hopes our fruit farming neighbors will be unscathed (or at least less scathed than last year) and our jam making and fruit canning can go on this year, unlike last.

Meanwhile, the new kid has been given a name, though none of those suggested. I, personally, was a fan of quite a few of them — Beckwourth, Eton, and Knox, being front runners — but The Man’s Friday night petition for a Geoff Peterson namesake was too persuasive to resist. If, “Because he’ll have BALLS,” isn’t a good reason for naming a boar I don’t know what is, after all. (And if you read the last word of that argument in Geoff Peterson’s voice you’d get along just fine here, I might add.)

And I think that’ll do it for now. The to-do list beckons. I’ll be back with more regularly scheduled content soon. Promise!

For reasons that would probably be better covered in another post, we sold our Large Black Boar earlier this spring and have been endeavoring to replace him ever since. I knew what I wanted and will be perfectly honest in saying that I’m not entirely convinced I’ve found it, but am at the very least confident this fella is a step in the right direction. Thus, because the reproductive tracts of gilts and sows wait for no one, he has joined the farm. And is fitting in nicely.

He’s a Berkshire, coming from a line of hogs that is said to have been discovered more than 300 hundred years ago by Oliver Cromwell’s army in Reading, the county seat of the shire of Berks. Since that first discovery Berkshires have been noted for their meat quality. Originally, they were a sandy color, sometimes spotted, but infusion of chinese blood lines early on after their discovery resulted in the color pattern that is known today; black with white markings on the face and legs. As far as records show this was the only outside blood lines to have been added to the breed.

On this side of the pond, Berkshire hogs deserve a heaping helping of credit for their contributions to modern swine production. They contributed heavily to gene pools in the early days of our country’s foray into lean, efficient pork. In those days lean had a different definition than it does now and the Berkshire’s dark, marbled meat was just what American housewives were after. Today the pork the Berkshire produces remains the same high quality, but intensively reared pigs have been bred even leaner yet. Which is why though the breed contributed heavily to modern pork production models in the beginning, they’re firmly a niche product now, raised on small farms like ours, mostly with alternative rearing styles.

Now, because we name all of our breeding stock this guy will eventually need one, too. And I thought what better way to find the perfect moniker than through crowd sourcing? So I’m throwing this one out to our readers. Nominate a name or ten, all of the submission will be judged by a panel made up of The Man, The Small Humans, and myself and the winner — who will be the proud new owner of bragging rights, I might add — will be announced here.

To help you out a bit I will say that breeding stock are pretty much always given human-esque names, and old-fashioned English (and Irish in the case of Tamworth breeding stock) names tend to take precedent, what with being historically significant and all. Previous boars have sported names such as Fletcher, Jasper, Shaymus, and Watson, for instance. And before you go there (because it is a good suggestion) one of the farm kitties is already named Oliver.

That said, The Man is pulling for “Pickles” so maybe you should all just add that one to your list for good measure. Good luck! Who knows maybe I’ll even manage to dig up an actual prize.

Last week was a rough week for America. I’d say it has to get better from here, but we both know that’s not true and I don’t know about you, but I’m in no mood to tempt the universe.

In the thick of it all I wrote this piece over at BlogHer, highlighting some of the really cool things the food community was doing to help the victims of the bombing. If you haven’t already seen it, click over and give it a gander. We all need a little silver lining in this mess. And I’m pretty sure equally cool food-ish things are probably going down in Texas, so if you’ve read anything about that leave me a link in the comments. I’d love to see it.

Also at BlogHer is the Practice of Preserving series I wrote last year. I’m looking forward to the canning season getting underway here this year and will likely be posting some canning content here as the season wears on, but everything I wrote over there last year still applies. And really? This is the least I can do after having gone mostly MIA on you all for the past couple of weeks.

I’d make up some sort of “I’ve been busy” excuse, and it’d be mostly true, but meh. Excuses, exschmuses. Everybody’s busy. You don’t want to hear it. And frankly, neither do I.

It’s been raining for 40 days and 40 nights. No one’s happy. No one. The Alpaca is beginning to resemble a rather large, overly wooly, half drowned Peruvian rat. The sows just stand at their gate and grunt at me to make it stop. The good news is that when Noah comes around to pick us up I’ve totally got the two pigs covered. I can at the very least see to it that later civilizations are not without bacon.

I’m this close to sending my awesome publisher the final manuscript of my children’s book. It’s the most heavily revised and edited seven-hundred-ish words I’ve ever written. This bodes well for the children and adults who will be forced to read it.

Other pretty incredible things are happening here, but none are ready to be shared publicly yet. Suffice it to say when I told 2013 it better rock my socks off it took me seriously.

The weatherman says there’s just one more day before spring arrives in Michigan. So there’s that. And not a day too soon.

Mike got chicks this week. It reminded me how much I hate chickens and I only even saw them on Facebook. It also however, reminded me how much I love (and miss) fresh eggs. You can probably see where this is going. I can too, so I’m going to ignore it.

My ONE / Fashionable Mother’s Day Scarf arrived this week. It’s gorgeous. You really should get yourself one.

The Mud Season has made it official. The Pig Dog is the dirtiest, nastiest dog I’ve ever owned. When we went to see him shortly after he was born his sire was out doing chores with his owner/breeder and as we walked to the barn he took off in front of us and laid down smack dab in the middle of a mud puddle. It was hilarious at the time. Well, our furry apple didn’t fall far from his father’s tree. And he lives in my house which means it’s no longer nearly as funny. Between him and everyone’s chore boots going in and out, I’ve decided I won’t even bother mopping until June.

What else?

Nope, I think that’s it. Back with something substantive soon…

This post is ten parts shameless food porn, to it’s one part actual recipe.

I rest assured you’ll like it anyway.

Step One: Make some Rhubarb-b-que.

Step Two: Get yourself some good pork spare ribs. They’ll be red and marbled. None of that “Other White Meat” stuff. If you’re in Michigan I can help you with this part. If you’re not, check Local Harvest for local hog farmers in your area. Trust me when I say, pay special attention to those that raise heritage breeds.

Step Three: Turn your grill up as high as it’ll go. All the burners. Let it pre-heat for ten or fifteen minutes.

Step Four: Put your spare ribs on the grill, reduce the burners to medium. Brush the top side with Rhubarb-b-que. Shut the top and allow to cook for a two to four minutes, until the outside of the meat is browned. Flip, brush the other side with Rhubarb-b-que.

Step Five: Add asparagus to grill beside ribs after the first flip. Shut the the top and allow to cook for four to eight minutes, until meat is cooked through and asparagus begins to wilt.

Enjoy!

I can take absolutely zero credit for the recipe that will round out the end of this post. It can be found on page 259 of the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving. I was simply reminded of it (and the four pints I still had stashed in the back of the pantry from last year) when Renae comment on the Marinated Asparagus post.

The Complete Book is the first home canning book I ever owned and I still can from it regularly. My mother bought it for me when I first started out. She just up and delivered it one day, along with one of those handy dandy canning tool kits. Which was a nice surprise given that we are not particularly close and she has never been terribly interested in the domestic arts herself.

What I’ve learned about the early spring canning season since then is that rhubarb is, fortunately, more forgiving of various preservation techniques than asparagus. You can make all manner of chutneys, sauces, pie fillings, and condiments from rhubarb. Many of which The Man will profess to despise in the heat of the moment, but then fawn over a few months later when the fact that you made a barbecue sauce out of rhubarb is far from his mind and he’s chowing down on spare ribs coated in the stuff.

While the official name for this recipe is “Victorian Barbecue Sauce” I like to keep the ingredients a bit chunky, making it more of a rhubarb chutney than a rhubarb-based sauce. This way I can serve it different ways depending on what suits my fancy at the time, either just sort of dolloped atop the meat or stirred into a hearty stew-type dish as is, or processed in the blender with a little added liquid at the last minute and then used as a proper sauce to marinate and coat. It works beautifully both ways.

Victorian Barbecue Sauce

 

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Author: Diana Prichard

Recipe type: Condiment

Ingredients

• 8 Cups Chopped Rhubarb
• 3½ Cups Lightly Packed Brown Sugar
• 1½ Cups Chopped Raisins
• ½ Cup Chopped Onion
• ½ Cup White Vinegar
• 1 tsp Allspice
• 1 tsp Ground Cinnamon
• 1 tsp Ginger
• 1 tsp Salt

Instructions

1. Prepare canner, jars, and lids.
2. Combine all ingredients in a large stainless steel saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring frequently. Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, until mixture is thickened to the consistency of a thin commercial barbecue sauce, about 30 minutes.
3. Ladle hot sauce into hot jars, leaving ½ inch of headspace. Remove air bubbles and adjust headspace, if necessary, by adding hot sauce. Wipe rim. Center lid on jar. Screw band down until resistance is met, then increase to fingertip-tight.
4. Place jars in canner, ensuring they are completely covered with water. Bring to a boil and process for 15 minutes. Remove canner lid. Wait 5 minutes, then remove jars, cool and store.

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*Amazon links above are affiliate links. If you buy a book or canning kit I might make a nickel or two.

I don’t think this one requires explanation folks. It just is. Happy Saturday!

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Saturday Swine-tacular is a (mostly) weekly account of all things both spectacular and swine. The curious, the delectable, the downright ridiculous; all porcine, all the time.

Lacking both opposable thumbs and a knack for the finer things in life, swine are not prone to a proper handshake and a gentle greeting when getting to know one another. Far more often they hurl themselves full tilt at one another, lower their heads, lock into a wrestling death match, and try to rip each others ears off. It’s not that they’re complete beasts, it’s just that need to work out a few details before settling into a friendly routine of cohabitation. You know, minor things like who gets to pick his spot at the feed trough first, who gets to sleep in the softest mound of straw, and who is entitled to riding whom when someone is in heat.

On large, conventional farms this issue is usually completely avoided by all-in-all-out rearing practices, where a group of pigs comes in together at a young age, is raised out together in the same group, and then sent to market all at once. Their pecking order is resolved at a young age when the wrestling is mostly play and it remains intact throughout their short lives. Meanwhile, older hogs — boars, gilts and sows for breeding — are often kept in quarters that reduce or eliminate the need for introductions as well either by being brought in and out in groups or because they’re housed in such a way that prevents them from picking on their neighbors such as with stalls and crates.

On a small farm however, those options are often not a feasible way of dealing with the livestock. We opt out of stalls and crates, are farrowing smaller groups all of the time making all-in-all-out difficult, and our facilities often have us moving pigs in and out of different group settings at different times for a myriad of reasons. As a result we’ve had to become proficient at the art of introducing pigs.

For those of you who may be bringing home a couple of batches of feeder pigs, adding to your existing breeding herd of hogs, or simply wondering how to re-introduce your boar to your sow after a long hiatus in their “relationship” here are a few tricks we’ve learned over the years to make introducing pigs a little easier:

• Intro pigs through a fence first, whenever possible. If you allow pigs a week or more to get to know each other through a fence it can sometimes reduce the amount of squabbling they do once they’re in the same living quarters together. This isn’t always the case, and it’s often just a reduction in the fights rather than an elimination of them, but it’s a start.
• Intro pigs in hog proof fencing. Livestock panels and board and wood post fences are the only two types of commonly used farm fencing that will stand up to the abuse of a down and dirty hog wrestling match. Though we love our electric and woven wire, any fence that depends on a psychological barrier to keep hogs in may fail during an introduction. This is because the pigs simply aren’t thinking clearly and often cannot be bothered to pay attention to their surroundings. It’s best to have sturdy fences in intro areas.
• Intro pigs early in the day, when there’s plenty of daylight left. First, pigs have poor eyesight and will be more defensive when they can’t clearly see and second, it gives you a buffer of time to deal with anything that goes haywire. In fact, this is just plain good practice no matter what you’re doing with pigs. Daylight is your friend, use it.
• Intro pigs when their bellies are full — right after feeding and not right before, for instance — and remove anything that will encourage competition for the first few hours. For the first few days following intro include extra eating and drinking spaces so that pigs low on the pecking order don’t get stressed and needlessly pushed around.
• Expect squabbles. They have to work out their pecking order, even if they know each other through a fence it’s not the same as knowing each other up close and personal and having to share their living space. Understand it often looks and sounds worse than it actually is, let them work it out unless there is some serious blood or it has gone on to the point of exhaustion without signs of slowing.
• Have a hog board handy. Know how to use it and how to leverage your brain against their braun. Pound for pound you are no match for a hog. They’re stronger and they sit lower to the ground which means out-muscling one is almost always a bad plan of action — yes, even if you’re a man. Luckily, we humans are armed with superior intelligence (most of the time) and can use that to our advantage. A hog board is a solid board that you can easily carry around and slide between two quarreling pigs. Pigs embody the old saying, “out of sight, out of mind.” If they cannot see one another, they won’t continue to fight. You can buy hog boards pre-made or make one yourself out of plywood. The pre-fab boards are more expensive, but lighter and easier to handle. Likewise, in using your brain you can find ways to out muscle a hog, much the same way a small woman can use pressure points to subdue a large, powerful attacker. If you don’t have a hog board and find yourself needing to control a frisky or furious pig remember that their snout is extremely sensitive. Cup your hand over the end of the snout, take firm hold and turn the pig’s head away from the pig it’s attacking. (The same tactic can be used should you ever find yourself on the wrong end of a hog’s bad mood and without other means of defending yourself.)

Above all, Happy Hogging! And be sure to check out the Hog Farming 101 Series for more posts about getting started with pigs.

I’m allergic to asparagus. Which is probably only half the reason I like it so much. The other half is surely the part where it ripens so early in the spring. Because as much as I’m a rebel, I’m also a sucker for any sign of warmth after our long, dark winters.

In our neck of the woods asparagus’s early arrival is rivaled only by chives and rhubarb, neither of which can really compete when paired with a good pork chop on the grill and so, as the days lengthen and the weather warms, asparagus becomes a staple in our diets despite my body’s apparent dislike of it. (Nothing really happens to me so far as I can tell, the allergy was discovered on a full allergy panel that was done in my teens for unrelated issues.)

One thing I’ve never really cared for when it comes to asparagus however, is its resistance to preservation. Sure, you can can asparagus. Tons of pantries boast lines of mason jars filled with the stuff in its pickled form. You can even can plain asparagus if you’re so inclined. Personally, I’ve never been much a fan of the finished product on the latter of those options. And let’s be honest here, one can only eat (and put by) so many pickles. By the time I’m done with the cucumber varieties I’m just not often in the mood for anything more.

Enter: Marinated Asparagus. A twist between to-die-for antipasto artichoke hearts and refrigerator pickles, but with the best of early spring’s bounty.

You could use these in an antipasto salad, serve them solo, as an appetizer, or part of a meal. I’ve got a bacon-spiked hors d’oeuvres recipe planned for next week with them, but for now, let’s just marinate the asparagus, shall we?

Spicy Marinated Asparagus

 

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Prep time

10 mins

Cook time

10 mins

Total time

20 mins

 

A great way to preserve asparagus short term, marinated asparagus is perfect in antipasto platters, salads, appetizers, and as a side dish.

Author: Diana Prichard

Recipe type: Appetizer

Ingredients

• 1 lb Fresh Asparagus, woody stems trimmed
• 1 cup White Wine Vinegar
• 1 cup Water
• 4 TBSP Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• ½ ounce Sun-Dried Tomatoes
• 2 Garlic Cloves, chopped course
• ½ tsp Chili Flakes
• ½ tsp Peppercorns
• ¾ tsp Sea Salt
• 2 Bay Leaves

Instructions

1. Grill asparagus, cooking over medium heat until the stalks begin to sweat and go slightly limp.
2. Meanwhile, combine white wine vinegar, water, and olive oil and set aside.
3. Line the bottom of a clean mason jar with sun-dried tomatoes, garlic cloves, chili flakes, peppercorns and sea salt.
4. Once asparagus stalks are cooked, remove from grill, allow to cool, and chop into bite-sized segments. Add to jar.
5. Pour vinegar mixture over stalks. Top with bay leaves. Allow to marinate at least 24 hours. Invert occasionally to help combine.

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You wouldn’t know it from the howling wind outside my office window, but as I type this spring is on its way into Michigan. The grass is greening, the winter wheat is growing, there’s a small lake at the bottom of the hill where a lane normally stands. For the past few weeks I’ve been telling The Man about the ever-expanding list of things we needed to get done “before the rains” came, and this week the rains showed up with only about 1/10th of that list having been completed. Now we’ll probably wait no less than a month for things to dry out again before we can proceed. It’s always the way.

Not the least of that work has been dismantling winter pens that went up over the course of the first two years we were at this building-a-small-farm-from-scratch stuff. We’ve learned a lot since those earliest days — enough that I’ve seriously considered writing a book just on the things we’ve done wrong — and as we adapt and change those particular pens are no longer needed. It’s gratifying to see things changing for the better, but occasionally frustrating to watch two years worth of work come down in what amounts to closer to two hours.

None of the spring work is particularly pretty. Even when it’s relatively “dry” there still tends to be a lot of mud, a lot of piles of posts and boards, a lot of toting tools in and out. Melted snow and dormant matted grass has a way of exposing all of the place’s short comings. The areas of poor drainage, that strand of wire fence that never got fixed after the one-man-steer-moving-rodeo of late fall 2012, the weeds that took over the garden after we all but gave up on the worst gardening season we’ve seen yet.

There’s an urgency that sets in this time of year. One that dissipates just briefly in early summer, and then hurls itself full force back into me as things begin to ripen. It’s something that a wise woman would probably avoid, but that I find myself embracing, even eagerly welcoming. Let’s get this summer show on the road!

It might not seem like much at first, but when you realize that a job at FashionABLE can be the difference between life and death for these women, the full impact of that news begins to set it.

FashionABLE doesn’t just make scarves. They deliberately hire women to make scarves, giving them a jobthat would normally be reserved for men in Ethiopia because men are stronger and faster at operating the handlooms on which the fabric is made. And they don’t just hire any women, they hire women who are looking for a way out of the rampant sex trade in the country; a trade that relegates 75% of its workers to the ranks of an HIV positive existence.

And FashionABLE doesn’t just give the women a job. They give them a livable wage, work they can complete with dignity, and a shot at life, even paying their kids’ school fees so the children can get an education.

Now they’re partnering with ONE on this gorgeous Limited Edition Mother’s Day Scarf. Like all of the other scarves made at FashionABLE it’s made by hand by the women who work there. A place that’s unlike any textile “factory” you might imagine. It’s a beautiful place to work with open air courtyards and well-ventilated weaving rooms. And it comes with a hand written tag from the woman whose name it bears, and a portion of her story attached.

A story you can also find below, but first:

Get Your Limited Edition Genet Scarf on Pre-Sale Now

Genet doesn’t remember her own Mother, she was brought to Addis Ababa by an Aunt when she was just three years old and trained from that young age to be a domestic servant. We met domestic servants like Genet when we were in Ethiopia, girls who spend their days cooking and cleaning for no pay and little in the way of even gratitude from the families for which they work. Before Genet could even reach her teen years she felt so hopeless in her position as a servant that she ran away. Living on the streets she was repeatedly raped and eventually became pregnant by the abuse. Then just fifteen with a baby to care for she turned to the only way she could find to support her baby, prostitution. For seven years her life spiraled in a vicious circle of prostitution and the hopelessness it creates, propelling Genet to use drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes to cope. Now, working at FashionABLE and making a living wage she doesn’t need vices to cope with her life and she can feed her children (she now has two) without degrading herself. Which is why the tag that comes on the Genet scarf reads, “I am able to embrace my role as a Mother.”