Category Archives: random thoughts

Even though Billy sometimes doesn’t know what’s growing in our vegetable beds at all times, he’s very likely to correct you if you call this place Novella’s Farm or Novella’s Garden. “That’s *Bill* and Novella’s Farm,” he’ll say. And he’s right. I couldn’t do half the things I do without him.
It was with a big heart and much joy that we celebrated our 11th anniversary by riding our bikes across the Golden Gate Bridge. Yup, two Oakland hicks tackling the Big City. Of course, like everything we do, there were some disasters. Like when we tried to ride our bikes on the highway. Enough cars honked and yelled that we figured out we were total dumb-asses. Bicyclists should really ride through the Presidio, or snake along Chrissy Field and get to the entrance of the bridge that way.

The bridge is a dream of red and blue. How can it be so perfect?

We took a ferry back to SF from Sausalito then another ferry to Oakland. It was nice to get a break from the farm, my farm hand partner at my side.

Let’s get this out of the way first:

The cutest goats ever. I started milking Bebe, too, just to get her used to my human hands. Those babies are getting some yummy, creamy, sweet-tasting milk! Lucky little devils.

Now then, onto pot pies. Bill has a joke from some dumb movie where he says, “woman, make me a pot pie.” For Easter, instead of clobbering him like I usually do, I actually made one. First I followed the dough recipe from Hugh Fearnley-Whitingstall’s opus: Meat. His was for a kidney pie, but the crust–made with my piggies’ lard and a touch of butter–was thick enough to pour in liquid without fear.

Then I chopped onions, picked celery (!) and herbs from the garden, and threw them together with the turkey stock and meaty bits. Hugh told me to add a decoration on the crust, so I crafted a very jankity nest with two eggs–see them in the corner there? Then I sealed her up, baked for an hour, and there you have it: turkey pot pie.

Hi, just a quick note that I’m giving a talk at the Ecology Center in Berkeley tomorrow (Saturday) at 7pm. It’s a fundraiser for City Slicker Farms. Despite fear of vegetarian backlash, I’m bringing slides of my meat projects at the farm. Any locals out there, I’d love to meet you in person!! Here’s the blurb (I’m not mentioned, but I’ll be speaking after Nathan):

Ferment Change! A Benefit for West Oakland’s City Slicker Farms
Come join us for a fermented food feast and celebration of Urban Agriculture to Benefit West Oakland’s City Slicker Farms “growing fresh and affordable produce for West Oakland”. There will be a presentation on the work of City Slicker Farms by founder Willow Roesenthal, a slide show of international urban agricultural by UCB lecturer Nathan McClintock, live music by Zoyres Eastern European Wild Ferment, and a live ferment workshop. Bring a fermented food and get entered in a drawing to win Homebrew, Sauerkraut, Plant Starts, and Gift Certificates to the Berkeley Farmer’s Market.
Time: 7pm – 10pm.
Location: Ecology Center, 2530 San Pablo Ave, near Dwight Way, Berkeley.
Cost: A donation of $10-30 sliding scale is requested, no one turned away due to lack of funds..
Info: 510-548-2220 x233, max@ecologycenter.org.

To Archie we had to bid a farewell. Last night I ate his organs, today I’ll probably make turkey pot pies, and Friday I’m bringing marinated turkey breasts to my friend’s house for dinner. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
As you may recall, Archie the male turkey, a beautiful Royal Palm, gobbled enthusiastically. Maybe too enthusiastically. In the past week he made some kind of noise every five minutes. He would stand on our back porch and gobble at the top of his throat to the entire neighborhood. He would preen next to the fence and yell at every passer-by on our street. On Sundays this was very loud, as there’s usually a soccer match down the street. And the mornings, he would gobble in the morning until I came out to feed him. Finally, two days ago, as I was in goaty bliss, our next door neighbors told me the turkey was driving them crazy. On an urban farm, neighbor relations are critical. If they complain, I could be cited, and who knows, they might take my animals away.

So I boiled a big pot of water. Then I got out the tobacco, burned a chunk of it, and grabbed Archie for a death hug. Novella in the garden with a pair of pruners. He made a hissing noise, pecked me, and then his head was off. I dipped him in the hot water, and pulled off his gorgeously and soft feathers. Underneath he had softer white feathers. Then alabaster skin, puffy with fat. In his crop were chunks of corn and greens. He was the most healthy turkey I’ve ever plucked. Underneath his skin, I could see the promise of his dark meat–the color of chocolate.

This British chef I love Hugh Fearnley Whitingstall calls these delicacies plucker’s prizes–the organ meat, not enough to serve, but enough for a special meal for one. I fried the kidneys in butter with thyme and a squeeze of lemon. The liver and the heart I cooked with onions and thyme and pepper. Served on a bed of wild argula and lettuces, and some radish.
Edith is still on the nest, and we hope for baby turkeys in a few more weeks. It’s much quieter now. Goodbye Archie–and thanks.

The birth of two beautiful baby girl (pretty sure) goats, today around 4pm. They don’t have names yet, but since they were born on St. Patty’s day, I think they need Irish names. Please send suggestions. More info about the birth–and photos–to come.

Dudes. I bought a used pressure canner!

In case you don’t know, a pressure canner is different from a pressure cooker, which is a smaller pot used to quickly cook beans and stews. Pressure canners are usually much larger–my behemoth comfortably holds eight quart jars.

Betty MacDonald, author of the sometimes funny homesteading opus, The Egg and I, famously hated them. In one of the chapters from Egg, she writes: “Canning is a mental quirk just like any form of hoarding. First you plant too much of everything in the garden; then you waste hours and hours in the boiling sun cultivating then you buy a pressure cooker and can too much of everything so that it won’t be wasted. Frankly I don’t like home-canned anything, and I spent all of my spare time reading up on botulism…”To her I say, girl, you’ve never tried my dry-farmed canned tomatoes. But like Betty, I do worry about botulism, and that’s where the pressure canner comes into play.

The beauty of a pressure canner lies within this formula: PV=nRT where R is a constant and n has something to do with quantities, pressure (P) is conversely related to temperature (T). When pressure goes up, temperature goes up too. Canning jars in a pressure canner increases the pressure and thus increases the boiling temperature. Harold McGee in his bible, On Food and Cooking, says it can reach 250 degrees F in a pressure canner. This higher temperature effectively kills all the spores which cause botulism in the jar.

It also means canning my tomatoes this summer will use much less energy, the water bath method that I’ve used in the past required one hour to process, using the pressure canner will cut that time in half. Wahoo!

By the way, I bought this gem from a gem of a guy named Dan at the Old Oakland farmer’s market. He’s usually there with a table of awesome cast iron cookware. Check him out. The Old Oakland Farmer’s market is held on Friday mornings.