Annotated Homesteading Bibliography

   For the past week, I have been reading Nick Hornsby’s collection of essays   Ten Years in the Tub, where he lists the books he purchased for the month, and then comments upon the books he actually read that same month. Any serious reader knows that the two lists are not the same, but tracking the books that actually caught his interest, and how they wove into his life, makes for lively reading. I can recommend it. It also got me thinking about our significant books, the ones I head back to, over and over again. This bibliography is for homesteading—The Best Books ever will wait for a slow, hot summer afternoon, after I finish reading The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder one more time.

   

Cookbooks:

 Betty Crocker Cookbook, 1958 edition

 My mother believed that this was a wedding present, but the dates do not line up. However, it was my first cookbook. It taught me to make bread and cookies, how to set a formal table, to look cheery when my husband came home from a long day’s work, and to have “something special” at every meal.  I still love reading the little biographies of the women who sent in recipes for publication.

 The Enchanted Broccoli Forest

Molly Katzen taught me how to cut vegetables, consider how a different seasoning changed the entire feel of the rice from Italian to Middle Eastern, to Chinese, and to talk to the yeasties.  It was my first vegetarian cookbook where the food tasted good. I have followed both Molly Katzen and the Moosewood Collective for thirty years; their food is easy and tasty.

Diet for a Small Planet

I bought this book when I was living by myself as a college senior. Meat was just expensive for one person and, after a summer as a meat wrapper, did not appeal. It revolutionized the way I viewed food. She was, however, a bad cook.

Chez Panisse Fruits and Vegetables and The Greens Cookbook

When we shifted over to eating mostly local produce, the beauty of these books was clear. The Chez Panisse books are just beautiful, but they also talk about what to do with cardoons (cook with cream!). The Greens recipes are sorted  subtly by seasonally available produce, starting in February (probably January in the Bay area) and working through the year.

Gardening:

Growing Vegetables West of the Cascades and Gardening when it Counts are the two best volumes on growing food in my bioregion, which is not the same as any other.  Steve Solomon is a clear and frisky writer and I have spent many winter hours reading over his work. The Territorial Seed Catalog is an excellent annual resource.

American Gardens of the Seventeenth, Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Ann Leighton

This is a series of meticulously researched books examining the evolution of garden style which I used for research purposes throughout college and grad school.

Permaculture Handbook by Bill Mollison and The Earthcare Manual by Patrick Whitehead are my primary source materials for garden design and deep planning. There have been many, lightly written books extolling the beauties of permaculture design but I prefer the original works.

Design and Philosophy:

The Pattern Language by Christopher Alexander

This changes everything. After reading the Pattern Language, our entire view of the built environment shifted. Six foot porches—that explained why those balconies were never used.  Nine percent for parking?—that would transform our neighborhood. Site repair?

Walden by Thoreau

Our backpacking read for years, it is still relevant today, once you dig through the convoluted nineteenth century language.

One Man’s Meat  by E.B. White

White moved to the coast of Maine in the early 1930s but continued to write for The New Yorker. These essays capture his life on his saltwater farm. If I could write like anyone, I would want to write like White.

A Beekeeper’s Year by Sue Hubbell

I first read Hubbell in  The New Yorker years before I considered owning bees. I was reading her work in our hammock the day we had our first wild swarm. Her prose mixes science and philosophy beautifully, even if you do not love bees.

Chicken Tractors, Worms Eat My Garbage, The Humanuare Handbook, Greywater Design and The Home Energy Handbook  have all been useful and inspiring reference works.

 Ful-- Fava Bean "soup"

Fava beans are a little early this year, so we were able to eat ful after weeding onions at Sunbow on Memorial Day.

Start with about five pounds of fresh favas in the shell. Shell the beans, parboil for about three minutes, and peel. There will be a huge reduction in volume and a lot of fiddly work....

Saute three chopped cloves of garlic in about four tablespoons of olive oil. Juice a lemon. Chop a handful of parsley. Mix the favas into these seasonings, add salt and pepper, and warm up. Eat with fresh, warm flatbread and a huge salad for dinner. 

Slow Work

            

We’ve been painting the house this week—washing, scraping, sanding, then painting. It’s a familiar ritual and we know what we are up against in terms of time and labor. And, once I get going, I love the slow work. I love standing on the top of the fourteen foot orchard ladder, painting the point of the house, and surveying the early summer, early morning world. Watching the students come and go, the house turn deep gold, the sun shining on the fig tree leaves. When I come down to shift the ladder, progress is made, easily measured. There is plenty of time for my mind to wander, tied down only by the rhythm of the task. It is a good thing.

            Painting is just one such activity. There is also weeding and mulching at Sunbow which I did this morning, alternatively sweating and shivering in the greenhouses as clouds and showers chased the sun across the sky. Knitting blankets, endless rounds of stitches, slowly building up on your lap.  Pitting cherries and slicing apples for the food dryer falls into the same category.  Skinning fava beans or shelling peas. Long drives down the highway. Kneading bread. All of these tasks take some skill, some consideration of the most efficient way to proceed, but, once the pattern is established, there is plenty of time to contemplate the nature of the universe. I feel my brains slowing down, pooling out, moving into new territory, losing focus. Time stretches out beyond me, endless.

Ful and Flatbread—the best mid-June dinner

Ful is best made from fresh  fava beans, which are labor intensive. They need to be shelled, then par-boiled, then skinned before they can be eaten. I usually pick a canvas bag full of the pods before beginning the soup.

Once the beans are prepped, mix with salt, lemon juice, garlic, and olive oil. Then add enough water to create soup and cook slowly until yummy. It is hard to give proportions without knowing how many beans you’ll have, but it should taste strongly of garlic and lemon. More olive oil can be swirled over the top before serving.

Flat Bread

1.5 t yeast

1 cup of warm water

1.5T olive oil

1 t salt

2.5 cups of flour—I mix wheat and white

Proof the yeast, then add the rest of the ingredients. Knead briefly to bring the dough together. It will be somewhat sticky. Let rest and rise for two hours.

After rising, divide into eight clumps of dough and roll out in circles, like tortillas. Cook quickly on the stove, using a cast iron skillet. I usually keep the heat on medium high or high. Watch closely. When the dough begins to puff, turn over and cook the other side. It only takes one or two minutes!

Sprinkle with salt for savory dinner or cinnamon sugar for breakfast.

You can add garlic or herbs to the dough. You can also cook half of the dough tonight and save the rest, covered, in the fridge for several days. It will taste more yeasty, but that is not a bad thing.