Corn and Swiss Chard

There was a stirfry contest between myself, an elderly neighbour, and my three year old Evil Genius. I was losing. Taken down even in my dreams.

My stir fry was watery and being taken over by corn and swiss chard. A watery stir fry is unforgivable, but I won't apologize for the corn and swiss chard. It is a tremendous late summer/early fall confetti combination. Even if it meant that my kid beat me in a cooking contest.

The first time I made this it was with the first corn of the season because I wasn't sure the kids would be up to tackling corn on the cob. I've since been proven wrong, but this is also such a popular dish in the house that we've been having it at least once a week since the corn arrived. Technically, I've been having it twice because any leftovers serve as an excellent bed for poached eggs in the morning.

This has been an excellent dish to take advantage of our CSA chard, garlic, and herbs. When I combine it with some Noble Meadows goat feta and use Mighty Trio Organics Flax Oil instead of Olive Oil it makes a completely Alberta dish.

Corn, Swiss Chard, Feta, and Mint

Serves 4 as a side dish

3 cobs fresh corn (0r 1 cup frozen niblets)

1 bunch swiss chard

1/3 cup water

1 tbsp olive oil

1-2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup feta cheese

1 tbsp chopped fresh mint

Shuck the corn, being careful to remove the silks. Standing the corn straight up on a cutting board, slice off the kernels. Set aside.

Remove the center rib from the swiss chard. If they are thin or you chop them small, you can use them here. Otherwise, discard or set aside for another use. Roughly chop the leaves.

In a large frying pan with a lid toss the swiss chard with a generous pinch of salt and the water. Cook over medium heat for 5 minutes, covered. Uncover and add the corn. Toss well. Keep uncovered and cook for another 3-5 minutes until any remaining water is evaporated. Stir frequently. Add the oil and garlic and cook for 30 seconds.

Place in a serving dish and top with the feta and mint.

More Pyrohy

Pyrohy, I've decided, are a perfect Sunday dinner. The main reason for this is because Sunday morning many of us think to make bacon. Then we are too lazy to do the dishes before the birthday parties and errands so that pan with bacon grease is still sitting on the stove when the pyrohy are ready. And that pan is begging to be reheated and filled with just-boiled pyrohy for dinner. Yeah, Sunday.

Of course, I had to make the pyrohy first. Thankfully today I had company and a really well-timed nap from the girls. Andree and Gwendolyn came over for a little, old fashioned pyrohy bee. Well, really, I got the games started by making the dough then put them to work making pyrohy. And they were stellar for their first time ever!

We stuck with traditional fillings of mashed potato with cheese and bacon, plain mashed potato, and sauerkraut. Potatoes from our CSA and sauerkraut courtesy of my parent's suburban kitchen. I prepped it all this morning. And taking a cue from the lady's at my parent's church - home of a ridiculously large bimonthly pyrohy supper - we scooped and rolled our mashed potatoes ahead of time. Makes for faster and easier folding of the pyrohy.

(See the play by play here.)

Andree said that my babbling and instructions was like watching a cooking show. Minus the couch and red wine! I was a little chatty with pyrohy stories, who knew I had so much to say? Of course, that may have more to due with being surrounded by the kids for weeks now with little adult company than my extensive knowledge of pyrohy.

Did I mention the single parenting? That would also be why I needed pyrohy for dinner, with kale on the side, roasted carrots, kubasa, and the cookies both Gwendolyn and Andree brought us (chocolate chip with bacon and shortbread). And now I shall sit on the couch and drink my wine, with or without a cooking show.

Heart

Kale chips not potato chips. Let's just get that out of the way. But they are better. But sometimes they are worse, way worse.

An old boss of mine had a heart transplant a little over a year ago. He was sick, very sick, for a young man. For awhile he was attached, and essentially kept alive by an obtrusive, loud, cranky machine. An external pump, if you will, that he carried around behind him like a business traveller and his carry-on through the airport.

Kale is one of the dark green, leafy vegetables that 'they' like to tell us to eat, and eat often. Nothing but good stuff in them. Loads of vitamins, beta-carotene, and even calcium. One of the key vitamins in kale is Vitamin K, very good for blood coagulation.

And blood coagulation is very bad for men with external heart pumps.

But now, with a new heart pumping and no carry-on luggage, those dark green, leafy vegetables are back on his plate. And because potato chips are supposed to be off that same plate I am offering up this recipe.

Kale chips are an addiction in this house; a favourite way to use up the abundance from our CSA. Yes, the girls like them too. Kale chips have a crunch that disintegrates as soon as you bite into them. They do taste green (which is a good thing) but they also carry the taste of the salt and spices you toss them with as soon as they come out of the oven.

So, if you are a salty snacker, try adding kale chips to your bowl. Ridiculously easy to make, fast, and full of real flavour that you control. Snacking at its best. And new heart approved.

Kale Chips

1 bunch kale - purple, green, or lacinato (or a combination

Olive oil

Salt

Seasonings (smoked paprika, truffle oil, seasoned salts, cumin, black pepper, chili powder...)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

2. Wash and dry the kale very well. Cut out the stiff rib and cut the leaves into 1-2 inch pieces.

3. On a rimmed baking sheet toss the kale with a light drizzle of olive oil. Go easy on the olive oil to have crisper chips.

4. Bake for 10-12 minutes. Give the kale a gentle toss halfway through.

5. Remove from the oven and toss with a generous sprinkle of salt and seasonings of choice. (Smoked Paprika is our favourite.)

Dirt in my Freezer

It might be the Ukrainian in me, but I am incapable of throwing away good food. And I feel inordinate guilt if I forget about leftovers or a head of lettuce in the fridge. That would also be the Ukrainian in me.

With a really good haul from our CSA this year I've been forced to face these issues head on. It's one thing to throw away grocery store produce that you paid pennies for and was grown and picked by a random stranger in Mexico. It's another thing entirely when you get the lettuce in your hands was placed there by a man with permanent dirt under his fingernails.  The same dirt that still graces your carrots, your onions, your greens.

* Aside - As I read that last paragraph it occurs to me that is just as bad to throw away the grocery store lettuce because there is still a person there with dirt under his fingernails. *

Our farmers, Jon and Andrea are such committed people. We light up when we see them at the market, where we pick up our weekly haul. The girls go running and asking after the horses and roosters, all while ripping greens with their teeth. We shoot the shit about the weather and yuppies and our egg man. And food passes hands.

Then we come home and I am forced to deal all that food. On a day when I'm just so damn tired I really don't feel like finding room in the fridge, grating zucchini, or freezing chard I sometimes leave the bag on the counter for hours, even a day. Then I remember the dirt. The dirt I'm invested in.  The dirt our farmers are invested in.  The dirt this food was grown in. So I sharpen my knives and set too. Far better to have trimmings in the compost pile than real food.

We clean, we store, we cook, we freeze, we eat. And so we will eat for another week, thanks to the phenomenally hard work of Jon, Andrea, their family, and their WOOFers. And in January, I will make another loaf of this zucchini bread, some swiss chard fricos, or a bowl of gingered carrot soup and be thankful for that dirt.

But now? Now I need to head back in the kitchen and make some beet leaf cabbage rolls.

Stew

It all started with a few turnips. After a number of attempts last summer to like the turnips we got in our CSA delivery I was looking for another way to try them. Gail gave me the motivation after she shared what she did with our CSA delivery. And the weather has made a decided turn towards fall, being chilly and rainy today. A perfect day to have the oven on all day, with meat slowly cooking inside.

In short, a perfect day to make stew. And this is how I did it.

Get some meat. My entire family purchased a cow this summer. Well, my parents bought it and shared it with all of us. (Thanks!) So the beef stew meat came from that cow. And somehow I thought to defrost Italian sausage with it. Not sure why, but it paid off. And I was lucky, our butcher cut the meat into chunks for us.

Spoon a couple of tablespoons of flour in a bowl.  Season it with salt and pepper. Today I also added some ground Ethiopian Berbere spices I have. Go with what you've got. Sometimes it is thyme and oregano, sometimes paprika, sometimes it is nothing. Stir it all together.

Toss your meat in the flour and spices to get well coated. Do it a handful at a time. About as much will fit in your pot without crowding. Make sure all sides are coated. Not only does this help the meat brown, but as the stew cooks, the flour helps thicken the sauce.

Heat up some olive oil or vegetable oil in the pot you will use to cook the stew. For this, I always turn to my trusty dutch oven. In small batches, so the meat isn't crowded, brown the pieces of meat. Most recipes will say to brown on all sides, but some of my pieces were more rhomboid than rectangular. Quite frankly, I can't be bothered to turn my meat 6 or 7 times. So as long as the big sides had colour I was happy.

As your meat browns, put it in a bowl. That way, if any juices run out you capture them.

While your meat is browning, chop up an onion or two. How much depends on the size of onion and how much onion you actually want in the stew. I also chopped up some garlic, roughly.

Because I'd defrosted them, I decided to add the sausage. And because I was lazy, I cooked them whole in the stew. (When I added the veggies later I took the sausages out, sliced them, then tossed them back in with everything else. It beat taking them apart raw.) At this point I browned the sausages and softened the onions and garlic. This is all still in the same pot I where I browned the beef.

By now you can see that stew is about layering flavour. The next step is to deglaze the pan. More than anything I use beer, but sometimes wine. This beer was leftover from a party we had the other night. So I took a sip from the beer, then poured the rest in the pot. When you add alcohol to a hot pan it bubbles wildly and with a few scrapes of the wooden spoon, all those brown bits that look like burnt stuff came off the pot and to flavour the liquid. To this I added two cans of tomatoes. Not the juice, just the tomatoes. And I squished them in my hands as I added them.

After that, the meat goes back in the pan, with any accumulated juices. Then the whole thing goes in the oven at 200 or 250 degrees F for a few hours. Yes, hours. You could also cook it on the stove, but I find the oven requires less attention. And frankly, stew is supposed to be about hands off cooking. Well, once you do all the stuff before this step.

After a few hours it was time to add the veg. You could add it all at the same time, when you first put it in the oven. Perhaps, though, you need to go to the farmers' market and pick up the carrots and potatoes because all you have are turnips in the house.

Cut all the veg into about the same size - 1/2 to 1 inch pieces. Throw them in the pot and let it all cook for a few hours more. At some point you should taste and season it. To mine I added some dried thyme as well as salt and pepper.

When Hubby and I first started dating we actually argued over the best way to eat stew. I was firmly in the with bread camp, and he preferred his over rice. Well, the day he makes the stew he can have it over rice. Today we had it with a loaf of wild rice and green onion bread from The Bakery at the Market. It was a fantastic compliment.

The stew was gently flavoured, with perfectly cooked meat that even my 2 year old could cut with her spoon. The sausage lent a sweetness and another texture. And the turnips? They softened slightly sweet, with just a touch of peppery bite. Just different enough from the potatoes, and about the best way I've ever had a turnip.

Things I Have Learned as a CSA Virgin

We are about halfway through our first CSA experience.  What have we learned so far?

1. The entire family really enjoys going out to the pick-up spot to picking up our weekly delivery, including the dogs.  Of course, when it is in the parking lot of an off-leash park that certainly makes it easier for our family.  In truth, we really enjoy chatting with the other members and in talking to our farmers, Jon, Andrea, and Manou. And to be honest, as exhausting as it is for them I think they get a bit of energy in talking to us members.  They hear about what we made the previous week, they see the girls eager to grab something out of the basket to try, and connect with the people who really appreciate all their hard work.

2. I've paid attention to the weather more this summer.  Generally I get annoyed with people who complain about it being too hot, too rainy, too cold, too, too, too.  Get over it people, you live in Canada. But I really noticed this year that June was dry and we're getting our good heat late.

3. You can grow some really cool, and really unique things in this climate.  All sorts of Asian greens like tatsoi, edible herbs like Mallow (which even the former Gardening Editor of Martha Stewart Living, Margaret Roach, didn't even know about!), and ten million different kinds of lettuce.

4.  Therefore, you must like salads.  You will eat them everyday, for lunch and supper. I've come up with some fantastic salad combos this summer.  My recent favourite has been baby greens with nectarines, walnuts, sunflower seeds, and balsamic vinaigrette.

5. It is hard to not be tempted by the other goodies you find at the farmers' market. We really do get enough from our CSA share for veggies for the week with two adults and two little ones in the family, especially of late.  But the peas, beans, corn, and cauliflower all look so good! But if I buy them then something may go to waste.

6.  Therefore, you share.  In order not to get overrun with salads I've shared my greens with neighbours and family.  Or at least invited people over to get through it all.  This is really just an extension of the notion of community that a CSA membership inherently promotes. And that is a fabulous thing.

7. Finally, you must really, really like Swiss Chard.  I mean really like it.  We've had it every week for the past five.  And one week Jon doubled up my share when her heard we liked it. Good thing we really like it. Aside from freezing the extra bits for winter soups, we've made roasted chickpeas with garlic and chard (which the girls love), simple sauteed chard, swiss chard frittata, swiss chard with raisins and feta, spaghetti carbonara with swiss chard, and my all time favourite, swiss chard fricos. 

The frico is traditionally a pile of melted cheese, usually parmesan, that crisps up like a cracker as it cools.  This version is a rip-off of a recipe I saw on Lydia's Italy.  The things you learn from PBS when tied to a chair nursing a newborn!  I saw this last summer and they are a staple in this house now.  I find it highly appropriate that Smilosaurus loves them as much as I do.

This version sandwiches the crispy melted cheese around cooked chard and onions.  So you get green sweetness in the middle of crispy saltiness. Pretty much a perfect taste. 

Lydia made hers when she was focused on the Fruilia region of Italy, therefore using a fantastic Montasio cheese. Montasio is nutty and buttery, on the hard side of the cheese scale. I've found both Italian and Canadian Montasio at the Italian markets.  There is a significant price difference, and yes, a taste difference.  Not a bad one, but a noticeable one.  If your budget allows definitely go for the Italian. I've also made this with Parmesan and Asiago.  Either works quite well.

Swiss Chard Fricos

(makes 8-10)

1 bunch Swiss Chard

1/2 small onion, red or white

1 clove garlic

1/2 cup water

olive oil

1 egg, beaten

2 tablespoons flour

1 cup coarsely grated parmesan or asiago cheese

1. Grate the cheese use the large holes on a box grater.  Set aside.

2. Remove ribs from swiss chard and reserve for another use.  Coarsely chop leaves of swiss chard.

3. Slice onion half in half again lengthwise and slice across, creating roughly 1 inch slivers of onion.  Finely chop garlic clove.

4. Place swiss chard and water in a non-stick or cast iron frying pan, salt generously, cover and steam 5 minutes.  Remove from pan and drain well. Wipe pan dry.

5. Place onions in dry pan and drizzle with olive oil and a pinch of salt.  Cook over medium heat until soft but translucent. Add in the garlic and cook for 30 seconds until you can just smell the garlic. Remove from heat and place in a bowl to cool.  Wipe pan clean.

6. When onions and chard have cooled slightly mix together with the egg and flour.  Season with a bit of pepper. It will be wet and sticky.

7. With pan on medium heat, put your cheese on a plate beside the stove. Working one at a time create patties with the swiss chard mixture.  Place the patty on the cheese plate.  Using your fingers push down gently and then cover the patty with more cheese. Carefully lift the patty and place it in the hot pan.  The cheese will start to melt.  Resist the urge to lift up the patty for at least 1-2 minutes.  The cheese will melt, brown, and form a crust.  When it does flip it over with a flat spatula and cook on the other side.  Repeat with the remaining mixture. Serve hot as an appetizer or side dish.  

Too Lazy to Cook

It isn't too hot. There is no family crisis. And we aren't being pulled in ten million directions.

Nope. It's just a week filled with dogs using beds and carpets as bathrooms, teething babies, whining and sniveling Monsters, taking care of the neighbours' incredible barfing cat, and a miserable time at work. So no, I don't feel like cooking.

Last night we went out. Yeah, that was a mistake. The girls are normally great in a restaurant, but last night they were not. So rather than resort to true laziness and simply boiling water for pasta I pulled out some leftover bread from Aviv. A quick survey of the counter and fridge revealed the rest of the ingredients for dinner: tomatoes, peaches, and some mallow and green onions from last week's CSA delivery.

Yup, when you are too lazy to cook you can still have a damn tasty meal. Just 10 minutes of chopping and a quick drizzle of oil and vinegar and you've got panzanella. For us non-italians, that means bread salad.

This is a technique more so than a recipe. I've never made this without tomatoes, but the rest of it depends on what herbs and other veggies I have around. Sometimes cucumber and red onions. Sometimes coriander and roast peppers. And today, peaches, mallow, and green onions.

Basic Panzanella

serves 1-4, or more

1/2 to 1 loaf of day old crusty bread

1 pint cherry tomatoes or two to three tomatoes, chopped

peaches, cucumbers, onions, peppers, or veg of choice - a couple of chopped handfuls

1-2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2-3 tablespoons of fresh herbs - basil, mint, oregano, mallow

olive oil

balsamic vinegar

1. Tear or cut your bread into rough 1 inch pieces.

2. Place bread in a bowl, add tomatoes and remaining ingredients of choice. Add garlic and herbs.

3. Drizzle generously with olive oil and vinegar. Season generously and eat.

Oh, and in case you thought that even this dinner was immune to the daily frustrations of life these days this was half of dinner, before we even started. I was coming inside after taking a few pictures and the dog jumped up, knocking the bowl from my hand. Sigh.

Taste Adventure - Mallow

We've been heading down the the Southland Natural Area for our weekly CSA pick-ups for a few weeks now (but not this one because Jonathan's truck broke down).  Last week was all about green.  With Hubby out of town and a family trip to Edmonton for a baby shower it was a challenge to actually eat all those greens.  So I was a bit thankful, honestly, that we got a break this week.  It gave me more time to take advantage of all that food. It gave me a chance try something new with this herb called mallow.

The mallow was the first thing the girls grabbed out of our basket, right in the parking lot of the off leash park.  While we chatted with an old friend they kept dipping into the bag and pulling out those broad and slightly jagged leaves.  For a toddler who only recently decided salads were acceptable eating and a baby who spits out anything too flat I was rather surprised.

Following their lead I dug my hand in the basket to try it out. Hmm, if I hadn't actually felt it, I wouldn't have been I was eating anything at all.  It has such a mild, fresh flavour. Kind of like dumbed-down parsley.

Considering the flavour, the most appropriate use of the mallow seemed to me to either include it as salad greens or make tabbouleh. Botanical sites suggested that I make a tea to ease my tummy troubles.  Yeah, that's not me. So I tried the salad, but I had enough salad greens and one can only eat so many salads in a week.  Tabbouleh it was.  

And damn, what a fine idea that was.  It was the freshest, cleanest tasting tabbouleh I've ever made.  The girls devoured it at dinner and I had way more interesting leftovers to take to the office.

It wasn't exactly a traditional tabbouleh.  I prefer my tabbouleh with quinoa instead of bulger. This time I tried a red quinoa. And I added a touch of mint to boost the freshness flavour. I was tempted to throw some feta in as well.  Feta makes everything taste better in this house.  Next time I might at least use it for garnish.

No CSA or backyard stash of mallow?  Substitute another cup of parsley and you will still have a great salad. And you could use regular quinoa if you prefer.

Mallow and Red Quinoa Tabbouleh

(serves 4 as a side or 2 for lunch)

1 cup red quinoa

2 cups loosely packed mallow

1 cup loosely packed parsley

1 cup loosely packed mint

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 pint cherry tomatoes, quartered

2 salad cucumbers or a third of an english cucumber, cut into 1/4 inch dice

2 lemons

Olive oil

1. Simmer the quinoa with 2 cups water over medium heat until the water is absorbed and the quinoa splits and parts of it look like teeny tiny calamari.

2. While the quinoa is cooking finely chop all the herbs. Zest one lemon and juice both lemons.

3. When the quinoa is cooked toss together all the ingredients with a generous splash of olive oil.  Season and serve warm, cold, or at room temperature.

Brought to You by the Colour Green

That big ol' mess of greens is sitting on our pretty, suburban lawn.  Yay for grass.  Yeah, I know, so not environmental to have a miniature golf course surrounding our house.  But it is fantastic to have the girls run around in bare feet and simply roll around in the lushness of fresh sod. And it isn't dirt.  Thank frikken' gawd, it isn't dirt. 

Tonight was another hot one on the string of summer we're finally getting.  After grilled pork tenderloin, ice cream cones, and kite flying at friends', we headed out to pick up our veggies from the farmer.  That's how The Monster now refers to our weekly CSA pick-up.

This week was was definitely brought to us by the colour green.  Mesclun, head lettuce, swiss chard, stir fry greens (mustard, radish, and turnip greens), something that looks like the skinnier sister of baby bok choy , and something new to me, mallow.  I see some salads, stir fries, and perhaps some tabbouleh in our future.

By the end of this week we are going to be superheroes!

Finally!

Did I ever tell you about the time we were heckled at our wedding?  In the middle of our vows, when I promised to nurse Hubby's wounds, his brother not so quietly commented on the challenge that would be.  And when we were walking down the aisle, vows said, kisses made, and the juggler wrapped up the bridal party colluded and shouted out, "Finally!"

Sheesh, you'd think we'd dated forever.  It had only been six years, with two years of living together.  A mere blip of time.

Why do I tell you that?  Well, I felt like shouting out, "Finally!" when I got the email that we were going to receive our first CSA delivery.  I am way too excited about this.  Maybe it's because we've only just got our lawn and there has been no fresh green in my life for weeks and weeks and weeks? Maybe it's because I can still only fantasize about a garden on my own? Maybe because I know what a struggle it's been for our farmers, and so many others?  Or maybe I just wanted to feel inspired by some simple food and wonderful people?

Regardless of the reason I happily, yes happily loaded up the girls and both dogs to the pick-up zone this evening -by myself, after a full day of work and some single parenting.  The girls said hello to Jonathon and Andrea, their farmers.  The Monster carried the baby beets and turnips back to the car while Smilosaurus munched on a piece of turnip greens.  And I walked down the aisle of the parking lot, screaming "finally!" in my head.

Farm Visit

Meet Jonathan Wright of Thompson Wright Small Farm.  This summer he and his partner, Andrea Thompson, and all the many folks they have helping out, will be our farmers.  They will also be the farmers of a few hundred other folks who signed up to be part of the Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program that Jonathan and Andrea are running off their farm East of Calgary.

Yesterday I took the girls to meet the farmers, the farm, and of course the animals.  Sadly Hubby was stuck with the necessary landscaping work at home. (One day we will have something other than mud.)  We drove in the first real day of heat and sunshine.  While the girls slept I ruminated on the luxury and necessity of supporting local agriculture through a CSA.

Yes, I said luxury.  Hubby and I have been talking about this a lot lately.  While feeding our family with the best possible ingredients, sourced as locally as possible is of prime importance to us (well, me, mostly) we have to admit that it is a middle class luxury.  It shouldn't be, but it is.  And for now, it is one that we also see as a necessity - as long as we can afford it. Maybe that's why I'm returning to work tomorrow?  It is a necessity - not just for the health of our family, but for the health of a diverse agricultural economy and a diverse farming community.

Jonathan and Andrea are perfect examples of people leading by doing.  They haven't spent a lot of energy getting involved in the foodie community or even selling what they do.  But they've spent a lot of time on their farm, working it and their animals to produce food.  Food, simple food.  Food that contains the sweat of a small family, some horses, water buffaloes, yaks, and the additional sweat of the supporters and helpers that come to the farm to work.

In speaking to Jonathan yesterday he said something that just ran through my brain.  "In order to have a sustainable world, a truly sustainable culture, we have to work."  It echoes comments made by Wade Sirois at the Local 101 event back in March.  He reminded the audience that no matter how you look at supporting local agriculture it means you have to cook.  It all comes back to effort, to work.  I better get The Monster trained up as a sous chef soon because we're going to have a lot of cooking to do this summer, thanks to Jonathan and Andrea's efforts.

This is the second year for the Thompson Wright Small Farm CSA.  In speaking to Andrea yesterday she is excited about the coming months and the supporters they have this year. The commitment from their members is strong, with most at the farm to support the ideals and work, not just get some good groceries.  

The farm is run by animal and people power.  When you drive onto the property you are struck by the lack of a powered tractor and the simplicity of the old metal plow.  I remember my dad showing me the one he used as a boy on the farm, long since rusted and now serving as a jungle gym to city kids visiting the farm.  Not at Thompson Wright.  The metal plow sits clean, almost proud, after recent use readying the fields for this year's crop of broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, peas, parsnips, kohlrabi, kale, peppers, onions, tomatoes, and garlic (and more).

The girls were in heaven running around to visit the animals.  Smilosaurus loved to pet the little chicks, but did not like getting licked by King, one of the two water buffaloes on site.  The Monster was fascinated by the chickens, gleefully calling, "Chock, chock chock!" to give them their molasses covered grain.  And who couldn't resist a three week old yak calf named Wild Bill?  Poor little guy lost his mother when he was born so I predict a gentle giant after his stint with bottle feeding is over.

It meant a lot to me to have Andrea, her son, and Jonathan welcome us and our toddler mayhem to the farm.  On the way home The Monster spoke constantly of the horses, mainly Sarah who wasn't big enough to be working yet, and her farm.  No longer was it the farm, it was her farm.  In a way, she's right. I do insist on giving credit where credit is due and that belongs to Jonathan and Andrea.  But they are our farmers.