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Thursdays
and Fridays at 7:49 am and 5:00pm Hosted by Andy Griffin of Mariquita Farm in Watsonville. |
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Broccoli Romanesco (like cauliflower when cooking)
Dec. 2005 ARCHIVES of Andy's Life on the Farm ShowsFibonacci on the Farm This is Andrew Griffin of Mariquita Farm with Life On The Farm. Leonardo Fibonacci was born in Pisa in the year 1170, three years before that city began construction of its famous tower. He died in 1250, after an illustrious career as a mathematician. “What’s Fibonacci got to do with life on the farm?” you ask. Lots. Besides introducing westerners to the decimal system that he learned about during his sojourn in the Muslim world Fibonacci developed an equation which describes many natural processes. Take one and add it to itself. One plus one equals two. Add one plus two to get three. Add two plus three to get five, three plus five to get eight, and so on. Graph this sequence and you will see an uncoiling spiral that looks like a mathematical snail shell. Snails, in fact, are just one example of Fiboacci numbers on display in nature. Right now we’re harvesting an heirloom vegetable called Broccoli Romanesco. This Roman broccoli could have been developed by Fibonacci. The face of the vegetable is a budding Fibonacci sequence. The broccoli’s florets are coiled in a Fibonacci spiral, and each individual floret is itself a Fibonacci spiral. The effect is gorgeous and mysterious. Here’s a question I’d love to ask Fibonacci; If a snail eats a Romanesco broccoli is it a subtraction or an addition problem? For a photo of Fibonacci’s broccoli click on the Life On The Farm link at http://www.mariquita.com/KUSP/KUSP.Lifeonthefarm.html For K.U.S.P. this is Andrew Griffin. Girasole/Jerusalem Artichoke This is Andrew Griffin of Mariquita Farm with Life On The Farm. Some vegetable names are all wrong. Take, for example, knobby little Jerusalem Artichokes; they’re not artichokes and they’re not from Jerusalem. The Holy city is invoked only because some ignorant Englishman of times past confused the Italian word Girasole for Jerusalem. Girasole is the Italian name for sunflower. Sunflower blossoms not only look like a kindergartner’s drawing of the sun, but as a summer day progresses sunflowers will slowly turn their petaled heads so that they’re always facing the sun as it arcs across the sky. Hence the Italian name girasole for the plant, from the verb girare, meaning to turn, and sole for the sun. Jerusalem artichokes are a type of sunflower that produce edible, starchy tubers. Someone must have thought these sunflower tubers tasted like artichokes. In fact, Jerusalem artichokes are distantly related to Italian artichokes. Look at an unopened sunflower bud and you’ll see a floral structure that is not wildly dissimilar to an artichoke bud. Right now I’m researching Jerusalem artichokes because a customer has asked me to grow them for his restaurant. The plant looks so easy to grow that I’m thinking of telling the customer “No way, Jose!” Jerusalem artichoke tubers that lie hidden in the soil after the fall harvest wills sprout in the spring. That’s a problem. If I don’t get every tuber out of the ground these non-artichokes that didn’t come from Jerusalem could easily turn into a crop that’s really a weed. For K.U.S.P. this is Andrew Griffin. Romantic Vacations This is Andrew Griffin of Mariquita Farm with Life On The Farm. I was delivering vegetables to a restaurant in down town San Francisco when my daughter, Lena, who’s eight, called me on my cell phone to tell me that the first goat kid of the season had been born on our farm, and that it was a girl. First time goat mothers often give birth to single kids, and in the years that follow, twins, or even triplet kids are common. It was this particular doe’s first kid, and she was right on schedule. I was happy, but not surprised. The chef I was delivering to was surprised. “I thought that goats kidded in the spring,” he said. I set him straight. Goat ranchers often have their does bred so that they kid in the spring, but that’s more of an agricultural practice than a natural law. Female goats commonly go into A breeder can even prompt estrus, I explained, by turning the herd into a new pasture, or introducing the does to a new buck. The novelty of meeting a fresh billy or a romping in a fresh pasture can literally “turn-on” a doe. “You don’t have to be a country boy to know that,” replied the chef. “Every romance writer knows about the possible consequences to a romantic vacation in an exotic location.” For K.U.S.P. this is Andrew Griffin. Creme Brulee This is Andrew Griffin of Mariquita Farm with Life On The Farm. My kids named the newest goat kid born on our farm Creme Brulee. I hold Lissa Kane responsible. She’s the chef at Piatti Locali in Mill Valley. I was 45 years old before I knew what creme brulee was, but then I didn’t grow up on a farm. This baby goat’s butterscotch colored head reminds my children of the caramel crust on a creme brulee, and her white body suggests the creamy custard underneath. We deliver vegetables to restaurants and occasionally we’re invited by the chefs we serve to have a meal in their restaurants. Eating out, and having a Chef like Lissa introduce a dessert like creme brulee into your life is one of the benefits of growing up on a farm. Another benefit of growing up on a farm that isn’t so sweet is an early knowledge of the facts of life. My kids are learning to live with the fact that meat comes from animals, and no matter how cute baby goats are, I can’t keep them like pets, but must sell some for slaughter. Life on the farm is not sponsored by Disney, and I’m comfortable with that. I’m not comfortable with the inhumane conditions that factory produced livestock must endure before slaughter. I don’t think producers could be so callous nor consumers so wasteful if the public wasn’t so comfortably distant from the fact that the first step in many recipes is to take a life. Our ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s ugly. For K.U.S.P. this is Andrew Griffin. Iguana Tacos This is Andrew Griffin of Mariquita Farm with Life on the Farm. We grow food so it’s perfectly natural that at lunch break on the farm we should talk about food, and I suppose it’s perfectly human that we should often end up talking about the food we don’t grow. Don Gerardo works for me as a driver, but cooking is a hobby for him. It’s commonplace to hear people remark that the tortillas mass produced in the U.S. aren’t as flavorful as the ones their mothers used to pat out by hand back home. And when someone brought that subject up at lunch the other day Don Gerardo recalled one year when their corn crop was so poor that his mother was reduced to making tortillas from the pulp of green bananas. Those were hard times, he said. But he fondly remembered carnitas made from armadillo meat. And that savory memory prompted others; of hunting in the brush for cactus fruits, for quail, and for big green iguanas. Roasted iguana doesn’t taste like chicken, he said, it’s better. But the best of all was caviar made from iguana eggs, served with salt and lemon on a crispy tostada. ----- More about Mariquita
Farm: Website More about Andy's writings: Ladybug Letter Website Andy's Vegetable Photo Gallery: hundreds of vegetable and farming photos |
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