I am overjoyed to announce the final harvest of the year, and we are divvying up our harvest between ourselves and Bill’s Farm Basket. In this year’s harvest, it has been proven that certain varieties of corn grow very well in the cooler coastal climate we are in; hardiness zone 9B. Throughout summer, many of these corn plants have been put in, and now the harvest of these plants has arrived.
Taking up an old field with netting and hardware cloth buried below, I began working the land for the purpose of capturing water, and also growing this field’s first productive crop in over a century, as should I say, the property had previously been designated for apple production in the 1920s as berry production in the area subsided, replacing the a good portion of the industry with Gravenstein apples for cider.
I am proud that I have had a chance to partake in such dealings, and that the results of my labor have been fruitful beyond my imagination, and that the fruit of my harvest has been as delicious as it has been satisfying.
So today, I would like to share with you what our harvest of the season is exactly, so that you may find it in a very small specific market located on the highway between Sebastopol and Freestone, and perhaps get your hands on a few items before they vanish from the shelves.
Beginning on the 9th of June, a date that would usually be designated as “far too late to have a good harvest,” I dug hemicircles into densely packed soil, and planted without hopes that any seed may make it in the soil but instead be gobbled up in the mouths of vicious gophers and moles, and that the crows would come down to pluck up the seeds. My fears were far from the truth, and within two weeks, my first corn plants sat growing in terrible soil between grass roots.
The hemicircles I dug were too far from any hose to justify watering with it, so I carried filled buckets to pour into the troughs of these hemi-cirlces, also with little hopes that the water would eventually reach the parts where the corn would grow.
The first seeds to go down were a mixture of different kinds of corn; one used for pozole currently in Mexico, another white corn which has been planted so frequently in the presence of purple corn that it has assumed a pinkish rosy hue, and a Peruvian “cancha” – a popping corn. It was only in the following weeks that I sowed the final part of the field where the Peruvian “mote” would take root. It was there that the gophers took hold of the roots of the freshly soaked corn and where it became a nourishing morsel. And should I say, this very nourishing morsel may be why this gopher has become too big for traps.
As summer went on, and the foggy period between June and July rolled in, fewer plants than expected met their doom in the mouth of this gopher. Instead, the plants took root, and I began watering with a new hose so that the carrying of 5 gallon buckets would not further injure my already sore back. But, during this period, there were few days where ample sun reached my plants, as the afternoon sun hid itself behind the branches of a redwood tree.
The foggy season past with the plants growing humbly, and then August and September brought more sun to fuel vibrant growth of the stalks and surprisingly, the flowers emerged from the tops of the plants, signifying that a harvest would soon come of delicious corn of many varieties. Between these flowers many different colors were seen; dark colored flowers, red flowers and yellow flowers, and even I, knowing little of the types of corn, was surprised to see such a variety!
Throughout August and September, the crops kept growing, the hairs of the cobs beginning to peek out and dry. I admittedly at this point, grew impatient and plucked one off the side of a stalk (for the satisfying crack it makes when one does so) and to see even if any kernel had formed. Of course, it was too early to see anything but the small measly buds of kernels protruding, but I cooked it nonetheless in a Peruvian “chaufa,” or fried rice, for a bit of variety in my meal.
The season went on and the plants reached up to the sky, spanning 4 meters from ground to flower, and yet, my first harvest came still too soon. But this harvest consisted mostly of the corn I knew to be white corn, and the Peruvian corn has yet to be harvested, as they are known to take far longer to reach maturity.
I cooked up this corn in a large vat, to be able to try the results of the harvest, hoping that I had achieved some new height of culinary expression through the growing my own corn with my own methods… only to be met with thick chewy kernels, and many underripe ones as well. Maybe my plants had reached for the sun and my aspirations as well, but the results of my harvest left little to be enjoyed, well, for those who like a fresh bite of sweet, tender corn.
However, the properties of this corn left nothing to be desired, as this is the way in which it is enjoyed in Peru, and to my own expectations, these thick chewy kernels were exactly the type of result needed for to cook it into Peruvian dishes, and to be eaten in a feast with fava beans and potatoes. The properties were truly and fully appreciated only when I had left to go to the farm having eaten nothing. I grabbed a cob of this dense corn and returned home hours later still without hunger, even after having consumed all my strength in digging. Though I should mention that this have come as a result of an accumulation of nutrients in the previous days (those same nutrients being later consumed without replenishment as a result of being a father)
And this brings us to today, wherein a final harvest awaits, and I would be happy to share it with my community.
Our harvest, between the months of October and December will consist of:
- Peruvian Corn (cancha, mote)
- White Corn
- Pumpkins (2 left, 20lbs each)
- Masquerade Potatoes
- Tomales Potatoes
- Shishito Chilies
- Kabocha Squash
Do note:
Future posts about corn may not be so exciting as the next harvest will be filled with the mere size of crops than the process of putting them in the ground and awaiting results, and I will, as one does, become jaded to these smaller moments of fleeting joy.