On Target
Farming ground that has been occupied for hundreds, if not thousands of years I often contemplate what the earlier occupants of this land thought of the seasons. This last week was the autumn equinox, the celestial calendar by which we lived for millennia prior to the Gregorian calendar, and now the iPhone. Last week at market we were sweating from the windows to the walls, and only a few days later, I was breaking out the flannel sheets and the long-sleeved coveralls. Autumn has officially arrived. Now it’s a race to the finish line for field crops. I’ve already spied some green tomatoes, and the brassicas have begun showing up, too. Apples are trickling in along with pears. Oh, those lovely pears! Last week there were still plums.
Stone fruits and pomes go well together in savory fall fare in addition to delightful desserts. We are in the season of ciders, both fresh-pressed and fermented. Speaking of libations, we are also in the middle of Oktoberfest. At all of the Central Farm markets, we’ve got you covered for the full smorgasbord, including sausages, sauerkraut, and of course, the beer. It may not be Munich, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the first crisp evenings of fall with friends around a fire pit.
For the record, that Marion Burro’s plum torte recipe also works amazingly well with fresh figs or those sweet little Seckel pears. You don’t even have to peel them, just cut them in half, scoop out the seeds with a small spoon, and nestle them into the batter.
The cooler days have been perfect for canning tomatoes. We are getting down to the end of tomato season so for anyone wanting to put up several pints or quarts, you still have time. There was a time when I would freeze all of the tomatoes from my garden and wait until the coldest days of the year to roast and can them. Since I work with some of the best vegetable farmers in the mid Atlantic region, there is no need for me to grow tomatoes anymore. The culinary herbs and vegetables I grow tend to be unavailable at the market. Nobody brings cricket-bat-sized zucchini as they would be considered far past their prime for human consumption, but let me tell you, toss one of those in with the chickens after the first frost has nipped their greens in the field and listen to the sheer joy of happy chooks. Plus, there are always fresh squash blossoms which tend to be a seasonal delicacy at the market. A few years ago, I went to a pick your own pumpkin patch, looking for a very large pumpkin (something else that does not show up at Market) and the farmer was flummoxed when in addition to the large squash, I checked out with a bandanna full of squash blossoms. You should be selling these things, I told him, adding on that there was no way they were going to grow into a pumpkin now. Typical central Pennsylvania boy who had never eaten a flower.
This is the time of the year also when those specialty items such as pawpaws, native persimmons, chestnuts, and assorted fall foraged fungi, make a brief appearance. It’s fun having foodie customers. I watch as they race walk past my stand, throwing their hand in the air for a brief acknowledgment as they point in the direction of their quarry and quietly, I set aside their regular order knowing they will be back once they’ve procured their premium products; our little routine as dependable as the seasons.