Self-Sufficiency, etc.

Ah... early tulips popping up between the river rocks. My eyes rejoice at the sight.

Well, I'm off to an early Easter dinner with the in-law contingency, (such a fun group,) but I wanted to leave a few choice links on the blog for those who are starting to think about turning their urban or suburban home into a healthy organic food-growing machine. Anyone can do this. I mean, look at my rhubarb showing spirit and it's only mid-April. Scroll down to the post from April 7th and you'll see it was only a little red nub in the dirt 10 days ago. Now look! That's a rhubarb pie growing there in that tiny patch of earth.

The garlic is looking pretty happy too.

And the bunching onions are now arriving on the scene.

Backyard farming isn't a new idea by a long shot. Here's a link to a 1976 article in Mother Earth News by Julie Reynolds. The Integral Urban House, was a profile of a Victorian home in Berkeley, which Reynolds states was (and I quote) "one of the country's most innovative and successful "urban home-steads.""

See, homesteaders have been reaching into urban centers for well over 30 years, so what are you waiting for? Start with something easy like a pot of patio tomatoes, carrots or strawberries. It's so much fun. For the serious city homesteader there are books a plenty on the subject. Like Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen's 2008 tome, (revised in a 2010 edition) "The Urban Home-stead."



Apparently the New York Times mentioned that it was "the contemporary bible on the subject."


Still afraid you'll make a mistake? Take a course. The "Institute of Urban Home-steading"in Oakland, California teaches courses on the practice of sustainable living and they also now have a book out on the subject,"Urban Home-steading, Heirloom Skills For Sustainable Living."

If we all start looking to yards as our potential Eden instead of merely a weed-free chemically treated lawn that (sigh) needs to be mown and edged, then we come so easily to the realization that we should be filing those spaces with fruits, vegetables and herbs that feed our tables. Your yard should work for you, instead of against you. I'm passionate about this. Can you tell?

Have a peaceful Sunday.

Rhubarb

Rhubarb was a slow starter this year. (Sutton Seedless variety) But the minute my neighbor cut down his tree, it shot right up in the sun.  Pie!

My grandmother made the best pie crust in the world. One day I asked her secret. "I use lard," she confided.

Years later, when I came for Sunday dinner, the pie on the table was a sorry thing to behold. Flat and characterless. It tasted positively like cardboard. "You can buy these in the freezer section now," she proclaimed. "I'll never make a crust from scratch again." She was thrilled. I was miserable. Truth was, my beloved grandmother had just cooked too many meals for her six children and the countless grandchildren they gave her. She was hanging up her rolling pin.

The torch had passed. It was up to the eldest female grandchild, me, to keep the tradition alive. Lard, flour, salt, pinch of sugar, ice water and a little love. That's all it takes.

The filling is simply fresh rhubarb, sugar, a few tablespoons of tapioca to set, squirt of fresh lemon juice and dabs of sweet butter. I prefer to use red rhubarb - sweeter - but a fellow gardener brought some green rhubarb by and I mixed the two together. This pie had a lovely sweet tartness to it.