Spring fever has hit me hard this year, and I’ve been spending whole days outside, digging out and fertilizing gardens, putting plants in my container gardens, and doing yard cleanup after a brutal winter. I’m hoping to avoid the produce section of my local grocery store as much as possible this summer by participating in our CSA, as well as growing a significant amount of food, including lettuces, kale, swiss chard, spinach, and green beans. Our first home-grown harvest should be ready in a few weeks … that is, if the damned groundhogs don’t get to harvesting first!

As for health and weight loss, both continue to improve. I’m free of any PA symptoms – woo hoo! – and I’m down 22.5 lbs. since January. Yesterday my mother came up from Connecticut and was teasing me about my butt crack — yep, my size 8 boy-cut Levi jeans are falling off my hips. And now people I see every day are starting to notice … mostly it was just friends and family who hadn’t seen me in awhile. It’s really nice because it’s not, “Wow, you’ve lost weight” but “You look great! Tell me what you’re doing …” People really seem interested, and I’m always happy to evangelize about good, wholesome food.

OK, recipes. I said I’d start posting them, and here’s something you soy-eating vegetarians will like. Last year, I became addicted to the golden sesame tofu in Whole Foods’ prepared foods case. These rectangular slices of tofu are fried until they’re golden, then covered in toasted sesame seeds and glazed with a slightly sweet/salty sauce with just a hint of heat from hot red pepper flakes. They’re also kind of expensive — something like $7.99 a pound. Since tofu’s cheap — and so am I — I decided to replicate the recipe at home. It took a few tries, but I think I’ve nailed it.

I’m pretty sure the Whole Foods’ folks fry their tofu in lots of oil, because all six sides are crisp/chewy. I just use a little oil and fry on two sides. I’ve also used a silcone basting brush to lightly coat each side of the tofu with oil, then cooked them on a grill pan. Yum, but it doesn’t give the tofu that chewy coating I like. If you’re watching your fat intake, you can skip the cornstarch dusting and bake the tofu in a 350 degree F oven for 20 to 25 minutes with the sauce, turning the tofu every 10 minutes or so, checking that the sauce isn’t burning (add water if it’s getting too dark). The tofu will have no chew at all, and the sauce will get thick and sticky, but it’s still yum.

Instead of stuffing these slices of tofu in my mouth like I do when I’m at Whole Foods, I pack them in a plastic container and store them in my fridge for lunches. I cut them up into tiny cubes to add flavor interest to salads — when I put them on top of a potluck salad at Easter, tasters asked me about the delicious croutons … umm, I didn’t have the heart to tell them. This wasn’t a tofu-loving crowd. They also make great sandwich stuffers.

Golden Sesame Tofu
Yield: 4 servings

The Whole Foods version has scallions in it. I’m not a huge fan of scallions, so I skip them. The secret here is the cornstarch … it gives the tofu its chewy coating, but you have to sprinkle it over the tofu evenly and with a light hand; otherwise it’ll get gloppy. Since I make this recipe a lot, I put cornstarch in a fine-mesh shaker; it gives me excellent control when I’m coating the tofu. You’ll find toasted sesame oil and mirin in the Asian sections of well-stocked supermarkets.

1/4 cup raw sesame seeds
14-oz. extra firm tofu
1/4 cup cornstarch
Canola or peanut oil, for frying

For sauce:
2 tbsp. agave nectar (for vegans) or honey
3 tbsp. soy sauce
2 tsp. minced fresh ginger root
2 tsp. toasted sesame oil
2 tbsp. mirin (Japanese sweet cooking wine)
2 garlic cloves, minced
Dusting of crushed red chili flakes, to taste

Heat a fry pan over medium-high heat. Add sesame seeds and toast until golden and fragrant, stirring frequently. Remove pan from heat and place sesame seeds in small bowl to cool.

Remove tofu from package and drain. Press the tofu gently between the palms of your hands to squeeze out water, then wrap the tofu in paper towels, place it on a plate, then put a another plate on top of it. Place a 28-oz. can of tomatoes or a cast iron fry pan on the plate. This will press out any remaining water from the tofu. Let sit for 20 minutes or so.

Unwrap the tofu and slice into eight rectangular slices. To make even slices, I slice the block of tofu in half, then half each half, and then half each quarter. Make sense? Then dust the slices with tofu evenly with cornstarch on all sides.

Heat about 2 tbsp. of oil in your fry pan over medium high heat. Add the tofu slices, but don’t crowd the pan. You might have to fry in batches. Fry until the tofu is a light golden color, approximately 2 minutes, then turn the tofu over to cook another 2 minutes on the other side. Remove to drain on paper towels. If frying in batches, add more oil to the pan. Note: it is normal for the tofu to splatter, so wear an apron if you don’t want to ruin your clothes.

While the tofu is frying, stir together the agave nectar/honey, soy sauce, gingerroot, sesame oil, mirin and garlic together in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and cook until slightly syrupy, about 5 minutes or so. Remove from heat and set aside.

Place tofu in glass container to hold. Pour sauce over tofu and turn to coat. Dust tofu with toasted sesame seeds and turn again to coat. Season with crushed red chili flakes. Can be served warm or chilled. Will keep for about 5 days refrigerated.

Well, it’s a long story (so I’ll save the super-duper long version for the book … no, really!) but for now I’ll give you the long version.

I’ve been having problems with sore feet for the past couple years — blamed it on aging, wearing the wrong shoes, etc., etc.) — but then early this winter, I noticed my 2nd and 4th toes were swollen, red, and itching like hell around the toenails. I assured myself it probably had something to do with my regular pedicures at the salon, so I ditched those, but the swelling and itching got worse. Down deep, I knew what the problem was. It was the family curse.

You see, my maternal grandfather, in his late 40s/early 50s, was diagnosed with psoriasis, an autoimmune disorder that attacks the skin. He had one of the worst cases doctors had ever seen. A lot of psoriasis patients only get patches of psoriasis, and they can be covered by shirts or pants. Not my grandfather. He had it everywhere — not only on his trunk, but his hands, feet, scalp, and arms. You couldn’t not notice it, and believe me, everyone noticed it. By the time I was old enough to realize what was wrong with him, he’d become immune to the stares, the whispers, the withdrawn handshakes. Not I. I used to get angry when people did these things. When I was eight, I remember someone snidely offering that my grandfather had leprosy. I went ape on them, then ran into the house, crying. He suffered for over 20 years with this horrible, disfiguring disease, basically becoming a human pincushion for every skin and immune disorder specialist in New England. In his mid-70s, he finally died of septicemia, a result of infection getting into his body through the open lesions on his skin.

Then ten years ago, my mother was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, also an autoimmune disorder. Let me just say that this was one of the cruelest diagnoses for her to get because before she got sick, she was a total shoe-a-holic. Imelda was an amateur next to this woman. The rheumatoid attacked her feet, and today she has to order special shoes — not Jimmy Choos, but these ugly clodhoppers from medical supply companies. Years of taking all the new advanced drugs for rheumatoid haven’t alleviated the symptoms of the disease, never mind “cured” it. (Rheumatoid, along with psoriasis, are “incurable” according to medical specialists.) On top of this, she also has the psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis.

And that’s what I have, the psoriatic arthritis. Or I should say, “had.” I’m one of the rare folks who only had the arthritic symptoms, not the skin lesions (although I’ve been assured by the medical community it’s only a matter of time). What choices did I have to control the swelling and itching? A drug that would mean a blood test every six months to see if it was destroying my liver.

Something snapped. It was a long-time coming, a moment when I could see every health problem in my past rushing up to me, screaming out for attention. I remembered a childhood filled with hives and eczema, my teen years with my parents spending thousands of dollars on dermatologists to help control the seborrheic dermatitis in my hair and eyebrows, and on my fingers and lips. And even in adulthood, the strange rashes would come and go,  I got asthma attacks throughout my 30s, and then flattened by pain and lethargy in my early 40s.

Something had to change, and I wasn’t going to take drugs to fix it. I’ve seen what these drugs can do first-hand. Basically, nothing beneficial. Since I know my family has a history of autoimmune diseases, and I know that autoimmune disorders are relatively recent diseases (meaning they didn’t exist until the early 1800s or so — industrialization folks?), I suspected that my environment was triggering a predisposition in my genes. And dammit, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I spent weeks doing research, focusing on diet. The medical community generally agrees that autoimmune disorders cannot be influenced by diet. However, there are some doctors who do believe diet has a huge affect on them, namely Joel Furhman, MD (who is now something of a hero to me). When I read Eat to Live, more lightbulbs went on in my head. I’ve always been a totally dairy girl — hey, I grew up in Vermont! And then I read that fruits/veggies from the nightshade family and citrus fruits can trigger some anti-immune responses. The hair on my arms stood up when I found that out — I’ve always broken out into terrible rashes eating tomatoes … eggplant makes my mouth itch … and citrus, well, I won’t tell you what a glass of orange juice does to my digestive system. It’s not pretty.

So I designed my own diet, but took it slow. First, I weaned myself off artificial sweeteners. That meant drinking my six morning coffees without Splenda. No problem. I substituted with agave nectar. Then came the day to unhook myself from caffeine. Again, I went slowly, weaning myself down to one cup of coffee a day, then finally switching to tea. Then I went cold. I did have some caffeine withdrawal symptoms, weirdly enough, weeks after I stopped the tea. But then I realized I’d become so caffeine sensitive that the occasional tablespoon of cacao chips I slipped into my morning smoothie were messing with my system, so out went the cacao.

Then came the elimination of white sugar, white flour/wheat, dairy, and processed foods. This wasn’t so hard because by now, I was starting to feel a lot better. (This was maybe two weeks in.) My feet weren’t hurting, the swelling had gone down in my toes, and they didn’t itch as much. Plus, I’m not much of a junk food junkie, detest fast food, and dislike soda, sweetened or diet. At the same time, I started drinking smoothies for breakfast, filled with fruits and veggies like kale, spinach, mango, bananas, and hemp seed, and eating monstrously huge green salads, topped with beans or seasoned tofu and drizzled with delicious dressings I’d been developing in my kitchen. I’d replaced the morning coffee with dandelion tea topped with a splash of Rice Dream. (Seriously, I’m writing this thinking, “Di, are you mad? A year ago you would have laughed at these dreadful concoctions.” But when you feel like your back’s up to the wall, you can get used to anything.)

I used to be a vegetarian in my 20s. Over the last year, I’d been toying with going back to it, but figured it would be too difficult living with two rapacious carnivores. Finally, I made the decision to cut out meat, as well as eggs. Hell, I thought — I’m going to go whole hog here, pardon the pun, and go vegan! Upon which declaration at a family dinner, my younger brother David insisted that PETA had finally robbed me of my brain.

On top of this, I don’t drink alcohol.

So basically I’m a teetotaling gluten-free vegan(ish) eat who avoids citrus and plants from the nightshade family — tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, and potatoes. I say “ish” because I’m not sure I could pass up a small taste of wild Alaskan salmon at some point. I joke with people that I’m on the Gorilla Diet because sometimes I feel like I’m eating what the zookeepers toss into the primate cage.

And I’m here to tell you over the last few months, I’ve been eating some of the best meals of my life, which I’m going to start sharing with you on this blog. I’ve been having a blast trying to make the most of the bounty before me — and it is a bounty! — and I hope you’ll stick around for the new Diana Cooks.

Oh yeah, the psoriatic arthritis. It’s gone. My feet look (and feel) completely normal. Back in February I went to Texas and showed my mother-in-law the last little bit of redness on my toe, and  here it is April, and there’s not red spot anywhere on my body, tootsies included. My skin glows. I’ve lost 16.5 18.5 lbs. since January, and continue to lose about 1/2 to 1 lb. per week. I eat three hearty meals a day and I’m never hungry. On top of all this, I FEEL AMAZING. For the first time in years, I feel like I can think clearly and focus on projects. I have tons of energy. I notice that I’m much more calm and mellow (I’m a redhead — I flare up easily!). My monthly bouts of PMS and cramps? Gone. Friends who haven’t seen me in awhile are looking at me and saying, “Wow, what did you do? You look great!” (That’s always motivating!) One of my doctors suggested that I start walking a mile a day. That was in January … now I’m walking/running 3 to 4 miles a day, and this week, I started at-home weight training. (I dumped the gym membership — my new motto is keep it simple.) And cheap. Our food budget has been slashed. Beans, brown rice, fresh vegetables, and fruit just don’t cost as much as processed food, meat, and dairy. And drumroll … my seven-year-old son now wants to be a vegetarian. I didn’t push him into it. He went there on his own. He’s finding his own way and we’re experimenting with a lot of different flavors and dishes, but I’m really excited about this. Even my meat-loving man has started asking me about stuff like agar-agar and date sugar.

Ok, so that’s the story. In a few days I’ll start posting recipes — maybe even some video!

My son and I are flying to Houston in a couple days, so I’ve been trying to empty out the fridge before we go. This weekend I made several quarts of chicken stock with the assorted chicken necks, backs, and gnawed over bones in our freezer. This also got rid of a 5-lb. bag of organic carrots, a bag of ramp trimmings, and assorted onions. Then I had to figure out how to preserve two weeks of CSA veggies. I turned the broccoli, red onions, and kale into soups and will shred zucchini and kohlrabi for vegetable fritters. We have about three pounds of beets in the veggie bin: if I have time, I’ll turn those into beet jerky. (Don’t knock it — I can put away a pound of beets this way in about ten minutes, flat.)

Tonight I served up a humble meal. We had a pound of grass-fed beef in the fridge, which I mixed up with a pre-made seasoning mix for tacos (my 6-year-old’s favorite meal). These were served with shredded lettuce (from CSA), chopped beefsteak tomatoes (ditto), and shredded Mexican-style cheese (Trader Joe’s — cheese needs to disappear by Wednesday!). I boiled up four ears of corn (today’s CSA basket), and sliced up chilled watermelon and Asian melon, both from last week’s basket.

It was a simple meal, but delicious. The melons were sweet and juicy, the corn flavorful, and the tacos, well, what can I say, were beautiful because I didn’t have to slave over a hot stove for too long.

Sorry I haven’t posted much — I got another case of nasty strep, my third infection this year, and am only recently starting to feel back to my energetic self. My mother-in-law has some food-related sites mapped out for us while we’re in Texas, so I plan to blog during our trip.

I alluded that we get a lot of greens in our CSA pickup each week, especially at the beginning of the season. And yes, being that I’m in New England, mid-July is still considered early season. Over the next few weeks, the composition of our basket will become less green, and more red and yellow.

And although I love greens, even the bitter ones, it does become tiresome eating them the same old way, which around here is sauteed in either olive oil and garlic, or bacon and onions. So Sunday night I flipped through one of my favorite recent cookbook acquisitions, Alice Waters’ The Art of Simple Food, and settled on a kale and potato soup. It was perfect because it also happened to use up some pantry items. My walk-in pantry and chest freezer are heaving with food and I really must empty both out this summer to make room for the winter.

Have I mentioned how much I love Alice Waters? I know it’s fashionable in some quarters to make fun of her. Like, “Oh, who do you think you are, Miss Fresh, Local & In Season … Alice Waters?” Screw those folks. Alice rocks. Her recipes are simple, and as long as you use fabulous ingredients — not hard to do in the summer — you’ll be rewarded with a dish that’s flavorful, good, nourishing, and totally non-pretentious, so I don’t know where these anti-Alice people get their ideas.

Alice’s kale and potato soup is one of those recipes. It’s so hearty, a meat lover would enjoy it, and although it contains few ingredients, its taste is complex — definitely more than a sum of its parts. I happened to have two quarts of fantastic homemade chicken stock in my freezer, which elevated the soup flavorwise. It would be just as tasty with a homemade vegetable stock — barring homemade, a good quality packaged chicken or vegetable stock would make a decent base. The other winning flavor component is the real Parmesan Reggiano cheese garnishing the soup. It has a nutty, salty flavor that lacks in domestically produced Parmesans. Were I not to have the $15/lb. cheese on hand, I’d probably skip it and garnish with bread chunks fried in garlic oil.

This soup makes the perfect Sunday night supper, even in July.

Kale and Potato Soup
Adapted from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 onions, sliced thin
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 bunch of kale, tough center stem removed and leaves sliced into thin shreds
1 lb. Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/4″ rounds
2 quarts homemade chicken broth
Kosher salt, to taste
Fresh nutmeg, to taste (optional)
Shaved Parmesan Reggiano cheese, for garnish

1. In a heavy soup pot or enamel cast iron Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onions, stir to coat with oil, and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, until soft and just starting to caramelize. Stir in garlic and cook for another minute. Add kale and potatoes, and stir to coat with oil. Cook for a couple minutes, then add broth. Bring broth to a simmer, reduce heat and cook for 30 minutes, or until potatoes are cooked through.

2. Taste the broth. Does it need salt? I don’t salt my homemade broths, so here I add a teaspoon or two of salt, tasting as I go. Store-bought broths tend to contain lots of salt, so taste first! Serve soup in large bowls, scrape some fresh nutmeg over each dish, and top with shavings of Parmesan cheese.

Friday is our pickup day at Bear Hill Farm. We’ve been CSA members for three or four years … can’t remember the exact number of years. But I can’t imagine not being members.

The first few weeks are a little slow, which I actually appreciate. It gently acclimates me (and my refrigerator) to the preparation and storage of vegetables. Tender lettuces must be quickly washed and chilled, lest they wilt — not to mention that having washed greens ready to go for my lunchtime salads makes life pleasant. By mid July, harvest time hits and I appreciate having a system in place for all the greens, squash, beets, kohlrabi, beans, tomatoes, corn, and more … so much more.

So this week our share started to look substantial. In my basket there’s a pound of beets (plus their greens), a head of lettuce, a bunch each of rainbow chard and curly kale, 4 summer squash, 3 kohlrabi, and 2 bok choi. Something else, too, but I forget. (ETA: collard greens! How could I forget my beloved collards?)

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After I finished filling our basket, we noticed a beautiful bird making a loud racket in the field. Anne, who owns the farm with her husband Mike, told us it was a Guinea Hen, a native of Africa. They’re feral and roam the farm at will. This hen had chicks with her. Can you see the one by her leg? “They’re terrible mothers,” Anne said. I guess the mothers kind of wander off, letting their chicks fend for themselves. Already this mother has lost one of her babies. I felt kind of sympathetic toward this hen, because not five minutes earlier, I’d lost track of the Oyster, who’d been sitting quietly at the picnic bench while I dithered about buying some local cheeses available from a local cheesemonger.

On Fridays we clean out our fridge and bring past-due foodstuffs to feed to the pigs, chickens, and goats. This week we didn’t have anything for them. When the animals figured this out, they refused to pose for photos. However this ameraucana hen did deign to pose for us. Ameraucanas are the hens that lay the lovely blue-green eggs I call “Martha Stewart eggs.” I once heard someone at a farmer’s market ask a vendor if the yolks were green. When I spoke to the vendor later, he said he got the question at least once at every market.

When I get home, I sketch a rough plan for our week’s supply of veggies as I wash and bag them. The beet greens were sauteed with garlic for our Friday side dish, and I made a marinated beet salad, which I’ll eat throughout the week. The bunch of kale was earmarked for a kale and potato soup for Sunday night supper. The lettuce — a no-brainer. That’s for my lunch salads. The squash I’d julienne and toss with warm garlic- and rosemary-infused olive oil, a recipe I’d tested from Carol Field’s Italy in Small Bites. The kohlrabi would be shredded and mixed with shredded Yukon gold potatoes for a latke dinner. Still haven’t figured out the swiss chard or bok choi. Any suggestions?

I’ve been on a bit of a bender with the new cookbooks. A couple weeks ago, I’d heard some good things about Blue Eggs and Yellow Tomatoes: Recipes From a Modern Kitchen Garden by Jeanne Kelley. I’d flipped through it a couple times at Anthropologie, but it just didn’t grab me. Then my dear virtual friend and fellow food writer Monica Bhide picked this cookbook as her top three of the week, and so I had to have it. (If Monica says something is good, who am I to argue?) With a fruitful kitchen garden of my own coupled with a generous share in a local CSA, I know I’ll be cooking a lot from this book.

I’d also had my eye on a cookbook called Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales From a Southern Cook by Martha Hall Foose, who is the executive chef of Viking Cooking School. A couple things grabbed me: first and foremost, it’s southern cooking. Although I come from an unbroken line of born-in-New-England Mayflower descendants, I feel kinship with southern cooks. I adore grits, White Lily flour, okra, field peas, and yes, sweet tea. Not sure why I’ve developed this love for all foods southern, except that — and I’ve discussed this with my southern mother-in-law — I grew up in rural northern New England, where food traditions run pretty deep, as they do down south. I grew up eating church potlucks, biscuits, and homemade pickles and relishes. The other thing that got my attention is the tomato on the cover is stuffed with lady cream peas. I have two 1-lb. bags of dried lady cream peas in my pantry, which I’d like to use over the next few months.

At any rate, I had these two books on my list and so was thinking of running down to New England Mobile Book Fair a/k/a Mom’s Crack Den in Newton Highlands to pick them up. Then I started thinking about the 40-mile round trip (yikes) and how gas is almost $4 a gallon (egads!) and did I really need two more cookbooks (um, yes). Then I thought, “Well, maybe they can send them to me.” What many people don’t realize is Jessica’s Biscuit is the mail order division of New England Mobile Book Fair. A quick check online and I discovered that by spending $50, I could get 1-year subscription to Bon Appetit, a half pound of coffee beans, and free shipping to boot. Not bad! The two cookbooks were 40% off list price, so I added a Chez Panisse cookbook to the order and was good to go. Everything arrived within a week.

This weekend I made the Blackberry Limeade from Foose’s cookbook and it was mighty good. A little sweet, even with half of the simple syrup called for (I’m wise to these southerners with their sweet teeth — I automatically cut the sugar in half for any drink!) but The Oyster and I managed to put away a whole pitcher. Since blackberries aren’t in season up here in Massachusetts, I used a pound of frozen blackberries, which produced plenty of purple juice. I couldn’t find fresh key limes either, so I used Persian limes. The other “odd” ingredients were Kaffir lime leaves, turbinado sugar, and a cardamom pod, which added a subtle flavor to the drink.

The Boston Globe ran a story on my CSA in last week’s food section. Check it out!

Indeed, our CSA newsletter prints many recipes of Mike’s, and they’re all damn good.

I was reading the Boston Globe this a.m. and did a double-take while reading the food section. My CSA’s eggs were featured in a short piece about buying eggs at farmers markets.

Indeed, they are delicious eggs, and they come in all these wonderful pastel colors. And once you start cooking and baking with farm-fresh eggs, you can’t go back to Stop & Shop.

This week we got a lot of beets in our CSA share. Beets are one of those vegetables that stump me. I like them, don’t get me wrong … but the only way I like them is roasted. And there’s only so much roasted beetroot you can eat in one sitting. Sauteed beet greens, however, different story.

I decided to try a borscht this a.m. I figured it was a good way to use up half the beets in the share, and if there was too much borscht left over, I could just freeze it. My research shows that borscht is traditionally made with beef and/or beef broth. I wanted something lighter, more vegetal, so I went with a recipe I found in a cookbook on my shelf, 500 Treasured Country Recipes by Martha Storey. Storey Publishing does a lot of country-style cookbooks … yeah, love those books.

This recipe is called Bubba’s Borscht. Trim the beets so that 2 inches of stem remains, and scrub them well. Put into a soup pot with 3 cups water, 2 chopped onions, and 2 whole carrots (obviously scrubbed and peeled, although the recipe doesn’t tell you that). Bring to a boil, then turn down heat so veggies simmer for 20 minutes. I kept poking my head in there, turning the beets with a spoon so they’d cook evenly. After 20 minutes, take beets out and let cool until you can handle them and squeeze the skins off. Do this over a sink: if you’re not familiar with beet root, it can leave stains. Put peeled whole beets back into pot, and add 2 cups vegetable broth, a bay leaf, and 1 cup shredded cabbage. Cook for another 20 minutes. Puree everything in a blender. My puree ended up a bit lumpy, so I put it through a strainer to get the chunky bits out. Now chill the soup until it’s very cold.

Before serving season with salt and pepper. You’ll also want to add some fresh lemon juice. The recipe says 2 tablespoons, but I like to season by the bowlful.

At any rate, I had a bowl of this for my lunch. It wasn’t quite cooled off — it was the bit that wouldn’t fit into my chilling bowl — but it was delicious. Very light and subtle, just a whisper of earthiness so that I think if you hated beets, you could probably manage this soup, even enjoy it. The true test will be tomorrow, when I’ll be bringing this to a family reunion picnic at my parents’ house. My father loathes — even cringes — at the thought of beets, so I’ll be curious what he thinks. I’ll post a picture later as I don’t have any creme fraiche on hand (borscht is tradtionally served with sour cream, but I prefer creme fraiche).

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!