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Spring is here in Central Oregon and to me, that means lighter meals like big salads for lunch and dinner with bright dressings featuring fruits and herbs.

This spring take on the traditional cobb salad fits the bill! Celebrate vegetables that bridge winter and spring, like beets and spring onions, and fresh additions that are just coming in season, like asparagus. Here, instead of the traditionally used bacon, I wrapped the asparagus with prosciutto and blasted it under the broiler for a couple minutes. The salad greens get a spring twist too; spinach, green leaf, and chopped raw bok choy make the perfect bed for the array of veggies on top.

Did you know that you can eat bok choy raw? Bok choy is perfect in a salad with its crunchy stalks and soft, tender leaves. You may never cook it again!

A couple of local eggs (which Agricultural Connections can also supply) are a rich treat and add some protein to this salad. Top it all off with a bright, lemony vinaigrette flecked with fresh dill, and you’ve got a crave-worthy lunch!

Serves 4

8-10 Asparagus Spears
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
4 oz prosciutto, sliced lengthwise
4 large handfuls assorted salad greens (washed and chopped) such as spinach, green leaf, and bok choy
½ cup sliced red spring onion
1 avocado, sliced
3 beets, roasted, peeled and cut into cubes
2 hard-boiled local eggs, quartered
1/4 cup shredded Colby jack cheese

Lemon Dill Vinaigrette (recipe follows)

Bread for serving (optional)

Lemon Dill Vinaigrette:

1-2 tablespoons chopped red spring onion
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
2 teaspoons local honey
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper to taste
Dash of Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
¾ cup olive oil
3 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped

Combine the onion, mustard, honey, salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, vinegar and lemon juice in a blender. Pulse a few times, then add turn on and add the olive oil in steady stream. Taste the dressing and add more salt, pepper, honey or lemon juice to taste. Stir in the fresh dill. 

Note: This can be made one week ahead of time and stored in the fridge.

Make the prosciutto wrapped asparagus: Preheat your broiler to high and place the asparagus spears on a large baking sheet. Toss with a drizzle of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. With a half slice of prosciutto, wrap the asparagus starting just under the scaled tip, and continue down in a spiral. 

For the salads:

Broil 3-4 minutes, then flip the asparagus over on the sheet and broil for another 3 minutes until golden brown and crispy. Set aside while you assemble the salads.

In each salad bowl, place a large handful of the mixed greens. On top of the greens, lay the sliced onion, sliced avocado, cubed beets, shredded cheese, and add two egg quarters. Place two asparagus spears on top and drizzle with 1-2 tablespoons of the vinaigrette. Serve with bread or toast if desired.

Farmland begins as an open canvas; it’s identity ultimately forged by the values of those tending the fields. The practical minded farmer approaches their land as a capital resource, and is managed to efficiently meet the demands of prominent crop markets. This form of agriculture is built as an economy of scale and supplies our export markets, feeds livestock and supplies the majority of food to wholesalers around the nation. A more romantic approach to farming, from the naturalist, tends to view land, not as a resource, but as an organism. Yes, the economics of running a business are major consideration, but are almost subservient to the goal of fostering a complete ecosystem. Oftentimes products from these farms are more diverse, but created at a much smaller scale than their commercial cousins. Food from these operations is often grown to sell at local farmers markets or directly to select restaurants. In between these two distal ends of agriculture exits a rich nexus of farms varying in scale, scope and long term goals.

When Audrey Tehan first approached food it was through a different vein. Her primary mission is neither economic or ecological; instead, the focus of Seed to Table, her creation, is community, and how to build a stronger one.

The hard work of a well-intentioned farmer can be lost  in a world of priority if their surrounding community cannot afford or understand what is grown around them. For many, it is hard to rationalize buying local food when the prices are higher and seasons dictate what is available.

Without a local community who embraces and understands the real challenges of farming, it is difficult for such an industry to thrive. To approach that very challenge. Audrey and Seed to Table founded three guiding principals, around which the operation runs.    The first goal is Access. Local food is often accompanied by the stigma that it is a luxury good; ‘people who have the money can afford to buy on principal, the rest of us have to do what makes sense’. Seed to Table works hard to break this pre-conception. They are one of the only farms that I have ever encountered that lists food bank donations and discount farmers markets as prominent avenues to share their produce.  To them, the only way to get more food grown in Sisters and in Central Oregon, is if more people get their hands on local produce and develop an appreciation for the value of wholesome ingredients. Most any farm is left with unsold produce in the field, due to either lackluster demand, or physical blemishes. There is really no sense in allowing this valuable crop go to waste. This is why Seed to Table works with food banks; to turn waste into a community asset, for the good of the community.

People inherently become more invested in what they learn, and education through experience cultivates that knowledge as a sense of identity. For years now there has been much proselytizing as how we, as a culture, all owed our food system to become an industrial entity? A powerful answer to this question is that we, as a culture, have disconnected from food production as a piece of our identity. Audrey drove to use Seed to Table as a medium to rebuild that identity by starting up a Farming class in Sisters high school. The curriculum for the course balances components of economics, soil science, biology and turning compost. The intention is not to make a farmer out of every student. Rather, the goal to instil a foundation of knowledge for subjects like soil science, environmental science, biology, and nutrition, so that students and parents may better understand the complexity of what they put in their body. Since classrooms can feel a little stuffy, Seed to Table also makes sure that their curriculum gets people outside with their hands in the dirt and show them what all of this information looks like in real life.  

The third goal is to Expand the amount of fresh fruits and vegetables sold in Sisters, which arises naturally though the success of education and access.

As their classes grow and more interns flock to learn through work, the ability of Seed to Table to supply school lunch programs, food banks and farmers markets grows as well. Ideally, their efforts in education, outreach and community development will open up some opportunity for neighboring farms, like Mahonia Gardens or Radicle Roots, as well.  

There are a lot of farms that are closed enterprises. They have land, employees, crops and market stands; but most people can only approach them as a customer. And there exists a void where you can’t quite understand what it is that goes on at a farm. At that point, how are you to make out the difference between their Broccoli and Broccoli in the grocery store that was grown 500 miles away?

The second goal is Education.  

There are a lot of farms that are closed enterprises. They have land, employees, crops

It is really a beautiful sight to watch the three goals of Seed to Table come into confluence and break down that void. The doors there are open, the customer, the community, is their farm. Summer workers are young interns out on a break from school, there to learn with their hands. As summer turns to fall, the interns are replaced with buzzing energy generated by droves of students from Sister’s Elementary. There they are out in the field, helping harvest winter squash, while learning how to store and cure produce for the winter. All the while, the squash and kale they pluck from the field is taken over to the food shelf to supply a hot stew as the days turn colder. For them, every step in the farming process is met with the smiling face of someone who just became more than a consumer. They might not be trying to make a farmer out of everyone they teach, but a little bit of the farm has a way of rubbing off once you experience it.

Written by: Peter Elmore

Organic agriculture goes back millennia, with roots as deep as any human tradition.

Our connection with how to select, cultivate and prepare foods has evolved over generations of farmers and meals from the family hearth.  That natural evolution eventually led to a point where the goal of food production rose above the level of subsistence, where technology allowed farming to become a smaller piece of our larger anthropology.

Inevitably consolidating agriculture led to a smaller number of farmers growing over larger acreage.

Farming then became less a natural development and more a field of study.

This process has allowed the concentrated field of agricultural science to make profound discoveries in areas like crop genetics and advanced breeding techniques which matriculated  into large yields and global food distribution. However, in the creation of any industrial system there are unforeseen externalities; details that were either overlooked or not accounted for.

For years now people have been talking about the ills of the “conventional” food system, and how it is a broken model. Stacks of articles have been written about how modern agriculture has contributed to land degradation, pollution, biodiversity loss, obesity, diabetes, inequality… the list goes on. One source of these problems, a factor that is easily overlooked, is that the greatest externality is a loss of knowledge. While there is more research going into food than ever the kind of knowledge we are missing does not come from a classroom; the form of knowledge that faded comes from the land, and from each other.

That is how organic farming emerged as a movement. In the midst of consolidation, there were those among rural and urban populations who realized that they felt disconnected. What they were disconnected from was, and is a cultural heritage between people, the land, and food grown in it. This movement emerged then, and continues to this day, as a populous voice seeking to rewrite the modern definition of agriculture to include those details that were overlooked as seeds started to be bought through growing corporations, instead of shared between a community of growers. In a sense, the farmers that emerged during the organic revolution were pioneers on quest to journey back into human history and reconnect with the heritage of traditional farming.  Fields Farm has long been a curator of mindful agriculture here in Bend, beginning a quest for creating sustainable land. Jim and Debbie Fields began their journey into farming 27 years ago when they purchased their 10 acre plot, nestled right outside the heart of Bend. It began as a small gardening experiment, their initial goal was simply to connect with their roots and build a lifestyle around living off the land. Over time Jim an Debbie began to grow their hobby into a business by implementing a small CSA. They only started with 8 members, but Jim’s philosophy is to ‘start small, grow slowly and observe a lot’, much like natural adaptation in plants. By 2006 they had grown their CSA to 68 members, engaged in two farmers markets, and finding their way to sell some produce wholesale. Written by: Peter Elmore

Ecologists and environmental economists have identified diversified local agriculture as a critical piece to cutting humanity’s carbon footprint and as a potential avenue for rebuilding ecosystems that have been damaged by anthropogenic activities. The high desert biosphere here in Central Oregon is perhaps fantastic for pursuing out outdoors passions, but it is a difficult environment to be a farmer. The high desert ecology is described as a zone 6a by the USDA, meaning that during  an average year temperatures dip as low as -5 Fahrenheit, and is qualified as a semi-arid desert due to only 10-15 inches of annual rainfall. Due to variable monthly temperature,  and long cold fall and spring conditions, the growing season here is very short. The annual growing season in the high desert ranges from 80-90 days; compare this to the long growing season of the productive zone 8 Willamette Valley, where  farmers grow outdoors 150-180 days a year. Crops on this side of the valley also do not have the benefit of deep sedimentary soil from ancient glacial movement. Since this region was largely formed by ancient volcanic activity, most of the soil is a shallow development of residual ash. This ashy sediment is sandy, which leaches water like a sieve, and is remarkably low in organic matter and microbiological activity. The confluence of these environmental factors make for hard conditions to cultivate oft needy food crops.

It may seem like this is a rather negative way to look at the landscape here, its not, the high desert is beautiful in so many unique ways and is an important habitat for abundant wildlife. My goal, instead; is  to lay out the canvas and paint a picture of just how much hard work and thought goes into growing local food in Deschutes county. But people do it, and do it well.

Sarahlee Lawrence from Rainshadow Organics  has been doing it for a number of years up in Terrebonne, and put strident effort into extending her growing season beyond 90 days. They are now beginning to prepare for their spring season by transplanting  tender seedlings into greenhouse rows, but this is not the beginning of a new year. The operation never stopped. This year they need to make room for the new seedlings because the ground is covered in an explosion leafy kale, collards, arugula and smatterings of asian greens. All of this produce was  planted back in the fall for the Rainshadow winter CSA, and has been protected from the harsh elements all winter; that is no accident. Everything is designed to create a favorable microclimate that makes up for the environmental shortcomings. Lets begin with her crop selection, which includes winter hardy brassicas like kale and asian greens, whose plant physiology has adapted to tolerate frosts (and actually becomes sweeter). Next comes the ashy soil, which has been amended with rich a horse and chicken manure compost, and used to build a deep organic root bed. Then the cold, but variable ambiance, which is better controlled with a full coverage greenhouse dome to provide thermal insulation, solar radiation, wind protection and retain moisture. Those crops that tend to be a bit more sensitive are covered with a light cloth row cover, which acts as a bit of a redundancy to the greenhouse enclosure. Since Terrebonne is close to the leeward steps of the Cascades, their farm is frequently hammered by a barrage of howling wintry winds. In response, Sarahlee has positioned her greenhouses behind a hedgerow of thick juniper trees, which act as a windbreak to protect both crops and greenhouse plastic from driving gusts of the prevailing wind. And the work has paid off. The rows have stayed green and healthy all winter, and now, into the spring.

All of this design, and hard work throughout the extended season has allowed for green dinner plates at home or in restaurants downtown. That is why this week we are teaming up with Jackson’s Corner to highlight just where all of their food does come from. “Local” is an important term because we can duck under the plastic and see how things work, to know what it takes to grow food that might otherwise be taken for granted.

Written by: Peter Elmore