The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

CHECK. IT. OUT.

There are a number of words that come to mind as I think about When Pigs Fly Farm this week.

Water. Water. Water.

Naturally, because school started this week and the city pools are closed for the season, temperatures finally shot up into the mid-90s for more than 45 minutes. That's right, we've finally managed to cobble together about 5 consecutive days of hot weather. My bones love it. My petunias love it (although, they're starting to look a little niggly as we approach the end of their growing season). And Team Tomato at WPFF loves it.

Well, well, well. Look who's finally getting with the program -- Mr. Stripey!

Harvest. Harvest. Harvest.

Team Tomato is making its move. Snowberry, the cherry heirloom, all but jumps into my picking container, and guess who had a Cherokee Purple caprese salad for dinner this week?

Yumm. Caprese salad. So easy, so simple -- fresh tomato, sliced, and fresh mozzarella, sliced (none of that pizza stuff, puh-leeze), topped with fresh chopped basil and a balsamic reduction.

From Farm to Table: WPFF Balsamic Reduction

1 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup honey

Simmer on low for 4 hours (Yes. Really. 4 hours). This will make your toes curl up when you drizzle it on salads, steaks, chicken. Well, pretty much anything edible.
 
Farmer Jim has gone into the picante sauce manufacturing business with his tomatoes. (I had a taste a couple nights ago -- delicious. I will wrestle the recipe away from him and share it here soon.) And there are already two quarts of Roasted Cherry Tomato Sauce in my freezer.

Flowers. Flowers. Flowers.

The sunflowers are in their glory. I love these guys.

I've never grown sunflowers before, but I am addicted now. There will be a spot for them in all future gardens. They are jubilant, almost defiant, sentinels of the last days of summer, helping us deny ignore the fact the days are getting shorter, the nights cooler, and yes, there are hints of yellow and red in the trees above.

Oh yes. I do love these guys.

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

Family business took me away from Bermtopia for a few days last week, and boy, did I miss The Farm. So many things happened while I was gone!

Our first sunflower bloomed! And I had to learn about it on Facebook. Sigh.

The temperatures finally hit the 90s --  and stuck around for more than 24 hours -- pretty much for the first time this summer. What a difference a few degrees make. Snowberry has started to produce more than one cherry tomato at a time (thank you very much), Cherokee Purple is coloring up nicely as are Farmer Jim's Roma tomatoes.

Mr. Stripey is another story. He is not budging out of the green department. The little turd.

Remember Poor Pitiful Pearl, my transplanted eggplant? She lives to fight another day! Pearl was in the process of producing two tiny eggplants when I left Bermtopia last Sunday, so imagine my surprise to find one had completely vanished and the other laying on the ground, sadly amputated from the Mother Ship. Their removal had been surgical.

I suspect fowl play. (Sorry. I just couldn't help myself.)








Finally, Farmer Jim made Kosher dills while I was gone! The ingredients? Why, When Pigs Fly Farm cukes, dill and garlic, of course.

Is this not truly A Work of Art?














And leave it to Farmer Jim. I'm pretty sure he's the only pickle maker in Bermtopia who has his pickles curing on his patio.

It's hard to believe we're marching, lock-stepped, toward September 1 this week. There's still so much to do -- and grow -- at When Pigs Fly Farm. Nevertheless, life is good at The Farm.

Life is good.

The news from When Pigs Fly Farm

Well, at least Mr. Stripey has gotten his stripes.

If you are in the market for green tomatoes, run -- don't walk -- to When Pigs Fly Farm. Farmer Jim and I are awash in them at the moment. Well, to be totally accurate, our cherry tomatoes are coming on. Farmer Jim's harvested a first batch and I'm not too far behind with my heirloom "Snowberry." 

Hello, my pretties.

But Farmer Jim's Romas and my badass big boys, "Cherokee Purple" and "Mr. Stripey"  remain resolutely green.

But soft, what patch of color on yonder tomato breaks? (Lower left hand corner. Really!)

What's an heirloom tomato, you may ask? It's probably preaching to choir since heirloom fruits and vegetables are so de rigeur in the foodie world these days, but according to the University of Wikipedia extension office, an heirloom tomato "is an open-pollinated (non-hybrid) heirloom cultivar of tomato."

In English:  They hail from plants that have been grown for hundreds of years, generally from their own, unaltered seeds.

And in English, again: They taste like real tomatoes. Not like the hybridize mash-ups you get in the grocery store -- and sometimes even grow yourself. I suppose it could be argued this is a somewhat harsh, subjective opinion on my part. I mean how do we know what a "real" tomato tastes like if all we've ever eaten are the hybridized versions, which therefore define "real" for us? You know, it's the old "If a tree falls in the forest. . . ." philosophical maze.

Trust me. You quickly learn what a "real" tomato tastes like when you chomp into an heirloom. Which I hope to do in the next few weeks.

In other news:

Poor Japanese Eggplant #2. It's tomato neighbors finally overwhelmed it, denying it any and all sunlight, so I transplanted it. I don't think it's too happy with me these days.

Um, mom? I don't feel so good.

Farmer Jim's pickling cukes are starting to make an appearance. These have to be about the cutest thing on a vine right now. (Sorry for slight blur; it was a bite breezy in Bermtopia yesterday.)








 
And finally. I don't think I've mentioned yet another WPFF subsidiary -- The World-famous WPFF 2.0 Sunflower Patch.

The Patch

When WPFF 2.0 appeared a few months back, the game plan was to let it lie fallow for the summer while it "cooked" for summer 2012. Being the type of person who can't stand seeing a bare piece of dirt without something stuck in it, I asked Farmer Jim if I could throw a few leftover sunflower seeds from the Back Forty onto WPFF 2.0.

Long story short: The sunflowers in the Back Forty are a gigantic FAIL. They obviously do not like sharing a stage with the 18 zillion other perennials I've got growing, but, my, my, my, they do LOVE When Pigs Fly Farm 2.0!

I am in love with this annual. It's hardy -- surviving a temporary swampland conversion the weekend of Assistant Farmer Holland's visit -- and pest- and bastardly-bird resistant (well, until they go to seed, then game over.) The architecture of its leaves and burgeoning blossoms is dizzying.

And they are almost animate -- twisting and turning to follow the sun as it travels across the summer sky. 

Thank you, Farmer Jim! The WPFF 2.0 World-famous Sunflower Patch is a true summertime treat.