Determined to Know Beans

"I was determined to know beans." -Henry David Thoreau

Our garden pictured from the south.

While impatiently waiting for the release of North! Or Be Eaten, I picked up The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan at the library. Pollan's book, along with a recent viewing of the movie "Fresh," has inspired me to work harder at trying to find food that is real (as opposed to processed), local, and organic. Though finding food that is local and organic can sometimes be difficult and cost-or knowledge-prohibitive, real food is a non-challenge in our home. We've grown to love all sorts of fruits, vegetables, grains, and legumes. I have pushed myself to learn about food preparation, storage, and cooking so that we can avoid using 'convenience' items from the grocery store.

Our goal this year has been to add more vegetables to our diet. I'm happy to report that this summer we've gone completely overboard on the veggies, largely because of the lovely 'community' garden that we've been working in. On Tuesday nights, our family heads across town where we share a meal with three other wonderful families that we know from church (there are fifteen individuals including the children). After the meal, we all head out back and complete the various garden-type chores: planting, weeding, harvesting, and turning compost. It's been a great experience. The company is superb and the garden, though it provides its share of head-scratching, boring, and/or disgusting moments, is a wonderful place.

Some green onions patiently waiting to be chopped and placed inside a taco.

Ian enjoying some black raspberries.

There's a patch of them growing next to the garden.

I have eaten a number of new vegetables this summer, some of which I was unable to identify before the gardening season began. I've loved the cabbage and the kohlrabi. I've not been real thrilled with the turnips and rutabaga, though I'll eat them. I can barely choke down the swiss chard. I still don't like tomatoes. I have a renewed love for brocolli and cauliflower. And, though I can eat them, I could live the rest of my life without seeing another zuchinni or summer squash. The carrots smell delightful. The pole beans are excellent at hiding. The romain is overwhelming. The spinach is perfectly delicious. The jalepenos are cute and satisfying and the green peppers are slow. The eggplant and parsnips have yet to be tasted by me. I love that there is such a variety of colors and textures in the garden. It's awe-inspiring, really.

I fell in love with the color of green cabbage leaves.

Needless to say, my meal plans have changed dramatically. I will try anything to avoid wasting those real, beautiful, local, and organic vegetables. I will roast the veggies, boil them, grill them, steam them, bake them into bread, chop them into a salad, or send them down the street to a friend's house. My freezer is near bursting with shredded and chopped vegetables, which I might toss into any dish at any given time (much to the chagrin of my picky 8-year-old).

The garden has made it possible for our family to experience the world of vegetables (and some misunderstood fruits, like the tomato and squash, which we usually call vegetables) and to appreciate the process of getting food from the 'field' to our table. Harvest aside, I think what we've gained is invaluable, particularly in these days when people are so cut off from the original sources of their food. I think this quote from Julie Moir Messervy sums up my thoughts: "Of all the wonderful things in the wonderful universe of God, nothing seems to me more surprising than the planting of a seed in the blank earth and the result thereof."

Sugar snap peas, leaf lettuce, spinach, turnips,

and bok choy (from the grocery store) awaiting cooking pans.

Roasted vegetables for dinner (again): zuchinni, summer squash,

brocolli, carrots, pole beans, cabbage, turnips, kohlrabi, onion, and garlic.