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Since today was such a pretty day, I thought I’d treat you to a tour of “our farm,” Bear Hill Farm in Tyngsboro, Mass. This is our second year of having a share at Bear Hill’s CSA program. The farm grows their products organically, although they’re not certified organic. We’re very happy there, and I hope this is something we can continue doing to support our local farmers, economy, and, of course, our health! (Click on the photos to get a clearer picture.)

This was taken across the street from the actual place where we pick up our veggies. There are two greenhouses here, plus a lot of raised beds for transplants. Since we’ve had so much rain and this has been the best day all week, workers were hustling to get plants in the ground while the weather was good. And in case you haven’t guessed, that’s my little homey, The Oyster. He’s very excited to be at the farm because he just saw Justin, Anne’s (the owner) grandson, across the street. Justin usually has a lot of toy cars to play with.

Across the street from the greenhouses are some of the fields and the stand. (Anne’s family also farms a few acres in nearby Westford. In New England, you farm where you can.) We walk up this long driveway about 50 yards to get our vegetables. As you can see, it was a sunny, golden afternoon. There was also no humidity, which made our visit particularly pleasant. I love the farm, but it’s not a fun place to visit when it’s pouring rain — or 95 percent humidity. Of course, I could be working in the fields, even less fun.

Here’s our share for the week. This is the second week of the season. The first month or so is pretty spare, but especially this year. Anne told me last week that this spring has been the hardest they’ve had yet: too much rain, not enough warm sun. However, we’re confident by the end of July, there’s will be tons of produce to go around. Both The Oyster and I are happy to see sugar snap peas listed on the whiteboard. Not sure what “tatsoi” is, but that’s what makes being part of a CSA so much fun: discovering new tastes. Can you see the scale to the right? I love measuring tools, so I took a lot of photos of it — but I won’t torture you.

Here’s The Oyster giving a peapod a taste test. He pronounces it “excellent.”

Sometimes we can buy products not grown at the farm. Today it’s Peak Performance Cereals. They look interesting, but I didn’t bring my wallet. Sometimes they have organic strawberries for sale, other times it’s apples, depending on the season. There are always fresh eggs for sale, and they are fabulous. They are so fresh, we have to let them sit for a week or so in the fridge before we can make egg salad. We’re going away for the holiday, so no eggs this week. (P.S. For my British friends reading this, the holiday celebrates our kicking your arses 200+ years ago. Cheers!)

Here’s a view of the whole stand. They put a new roof on over the winter. No leaks during rainstorms! To the left is the fridge holding the fresh eggs for people who want to buy them.

I’m always amazed at how they keep the fields so weed free. I’m always pulling weeds in my garden. Here is some lettuce, as well as a budding pepper, and other shots of the fields.

The shot to the left was taken by The Oyster. It looks like he got the garlic bed.

Mmmm, bacon!

After looking at the pigs, we headed back to our car. On the way back, I noticed some ripening black raspberries along a stone wall. The Oyster and I picked as many ripe ones as we could find. I took some pictures, but by then, a stiff breeze whipped up so the shots were out of focus. Here’s a shot from the pig pen, looking back down at the farm.

Here’s a picture of an old wagon that is slowly being overtaken by raspberry canes. To the right (out of view) is a nice patch of stinging nettles and some wild roses. In the spring, I’d pick the nettles (wearing gloves, of course) and use them in soups and ravioli; in the fall, I’ll ask Anne if I can pick some rose hips for jelly.

We had a great visit and we’ll be back next Friday for more goodies. Here’s a picture The Oyster took of me with our bounty. (Ugly pic with the sun making my eyes even squintier than they normally are.) Tonight I’ll be having a green salad for a late dinner, topped with some red peppers I roasted and peeled last night. So glad summer — and fresh veggies — are here!

One of my favorite summer dinners is pizza. Yeah, crazy, I know, since it means firing up the old oven to 500 degrees Fahrenheit. But man, homemade pizza topped with fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil? Worth every drop of sweat.

We were getting a little bored with my old recipe (hubby would like a crisper crust, me? I just like a change now and then) so I decided to test out a recipe from this month’s Cook’s Illustrated. The recipe promises a pizza reminiscent of those you’d find in southern Italy — a shatteringly thin crust, good flavor, a modest amount of topping. The dough was simple to make; it does, however, require a food processor. The interesting twist to the dough is that you use a mix of all purpose and cake flours, the reason being that higher protein flours only work if you have an oven that goes up to 800 degrees F. While the dough rises, you make a sauce from canned diced tomatoes, which get three blitzes in the food processor then drained in a colander. I didn’t have diced tomatoes, so I used a can of whole San Marzanos from my stash. I added a clove of minced garlic, a bit of salt and sugar, then a tablespoon of chopped fresh basil to round out the sauce.

The dough was easy to press out. I got the requisite “window pane” thinness with a nice, chewy crust at the edge. The dough is topped with half the tomato sauce and baked for five minutes. Then you take it from the oven and top it with cheese. I had some nice buffalo mozzarella in the fridge, so I used that. Back in the oven for another four minutes, and then ready to eat after a basil chiffonade shower, a spritz of olive oil, and some salt and fresh ground pepper.

The verdict? Oliver really liked the crust, except where it was thin, and the sauce, as well as the basil. (He’s not a cheese eater.) After sitting for a few minutes, the water from the cheese must have leaked into the crust and made it mushy. Scott said it smelled good — he didn’t get any because Oliver and I scarfed it down too fast. Me? I think I’ll be using this recipe again. It made enough for another pizza — breakfast, perhaps?