Savannah with 8-Row Flint Corn from 2023

A Farmer’s Perspective: Summer Rain and Seasonal Shifts

I can’t believe we received over 2” of rain a couple of weeks ago! It may have impacted our patio service a bit, but we farmers are happy! You should have seen the look on Chef Vincent’s face during our last staff meeting when the topic of weather came up and I was literally grinning from ear to ear. A rain like this means I get a few days off from irrigating 3 acres worth of crops- which is a never-ending task this time of year.

The majority of our crops are watered using a drip irrigation system. We currently have 11,800 linear feet of drip tape installed on two out of the three farmed acres. Drip irrigation allows us to irrigate more efficiently, conserving thousands of gallons of water per week by delivering water directly to the plants. Compared to overhead watering systems, which result in significant amount of water loss due to evaporation, drip is amazing. We can run an average of 1500’-2400’ feet of drip tape at one time, so we are constantly “moving water” aka “dragging hoses” from one end of the farm to another. It’s a lot of work, so you can see why two inches of rain in August has us feel giddy! It also means I get to plant rows of new crops and put more seeds in the ground without the trouble of watering them in.

There is a lot of planting that happens this time of year to ensure we have vegetables to eat in the Winter. It means all of our cool season crops like Brussel Sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower and radicchio get a much-needed reprieve from the hot summer sun. Not to mention how much more comfortable it is for us to work in this lovely 60 degree overcast weather!

But most importantly, it’s a sign of what’s to come, cooler weather and a change of pace. So, while I’ve been over here celebrating, Chef Vincent is grieving. I guess he’s not ready to say goodbye to cucumbers and tomatoes. I would rip them out of our Greenhouse tomorrow if I could… Just kidding! But I get it. It feels like they just got here, and with September looming he’s not ready to say goodbye. Then I remember this is the time of year we have to remind each other that if it wasn’t so hard, every restaurant would do what we do and create their menu based on what was in season at that exact moment on the farm. So here we are, feeling the impermanence of tomatoes. If there’s one thing I know about Vincent, it’s that he’s going to create something from that feeling- a truly unique and one-of-a-kind dish from our very precious end-of-summer tomatoes.

A Chef’s Perspective on Fall: It all Comes down to Produce, people, Profits& Pigs

I get it. For the farmers, fall represents a job well done, completed and put to bed. The spring in the step of our trio of farmers closely resembles the level of merriment depicted in a Bruegel painting. They are downright giddy. How annoying is that?

I, on the other hand, hate fall. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy when the chill in the air resolves itself into the wetter weather of October. I love the changing smellscape, full of the aroma of fallen leaves, moist ground and over-ripe apples. I am all in for the experience of full-blown fall. What I hate is the Death of Summer that happens each year, which without fail will arrive before I am ready for it. The Death of Summer signals an irrevocable end to the bounty of the summer that we had waited for with anticipation all year. Each year has a necessary, predictable rhythm, and the onset of fall is the all too predictable tragedy in the third act.

You might be suggest that this malaise is some variant of Seasonal Affective Disorder, showing itself in my loathing of the onset of fall. Strangely that SAD is not something that bothers me at all. I love the short, cold, damp days of late fall and winter. Even as the other members of my family are clutching their bottles of vitamin D, huddling in front of their full-spectrum lights, praying in vain for spring, I’m content to head outside in the low light to experience the damp of our forests and relish the sting of cold mist on my cheeks. It probably comes from generations upon generations of Irish and Scots scratching around all winter long in the muddy bog for sustenance. Winter feels like the one season when the sun is not trying to give me melanoma.

As a chef, my appetite tends to be about a month ahead of the current season. In fall, I’m already starting to crave braised, rich, meat dishes of winter. As spring approaches, images of abundant, leafy greens dance through my mind. And spring is a time that, while abundant in green, leafy vegetables, lacks in charismatic, big, bold, vibrantly colorful center-of-the-plate sorts of vegetables. But tomatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, chanterelles and all varieties of fruit are just over the horizon in summer. Summer, even with it’s oppressive heat and that firey red ball in the sky that seems to want to kill me is the time of tomatoes, stone fruits, berries, cucumbers, hot peppers, sweet onions, and freshly dug potatoes. In many ways summer feels like a wish come to fruition. Summer feels as though we have arrived, and the turn of weather, particularly in August, just feels like it is all coming to an end far too soon.

Additionally, fall represents a change of staffing in the restaurant. The young people who have grown to become more than just a part of our team and more like family members, begin to peel away to return to school. While this is a positively exciting time form these young people, many of whom are heading off to colleges and exciting locales, it is a diminution of our team that I very much dislike; our family dispersing. And, of course, it represents an end to what is far and away our most profitable time of year. Now we head into fall, a time to tighten our belts, trimming labor while finding ways to provide adequate hours for our key, year-long employees.

Fall is also the time to harvest the pigs, and while I love, value, and deeply appreciate the bounty of all the products they will provide us, the lead up to slaughter day hangs heavy in my consciousness. Harvesting three pigs is a huge commitment of psychic and physical labor; hours of planning, and many more hours of heavy, physical work lay ahead to process these animals into the myriad products, from hams to rillette and black pudding. They will feed our family and our guests for months to come. Once the deed is done, I feel a weight lifted and a deep gratitude to these animals that allow us to turn the farm’s excess production into so many delicious and nourishing products. But in the lead up to the harvest, I carry that anticipation like a weight.

So I understand Savannah and Sarah and Anika’s sense of giddiness as they feel the first blush of fall’s orange leaves appearing on the farm. It’s just going to take me a month or two to get on board.

Vincent & Savannah planning the farm in 2019

Thanks for reading along! We hope to see you at our Farm Tour on Sunday, September 22nd.

Again from Savannah: I’m looking forward to sharing more about farming with you and showing off our amazing field of corn. I mean c’mon, have you ever seen such a thing in the maritime PNW? This corn has an amazing story (would you believe me if I told you we started with only 3 seeds, seven years ago?) Our 8-Row Flint corn is just one of the many crops we grow to get us through the winter. Once harvested, these crops are dried, cleaned for storage, which is essential to making us a truly farm-to-table restaurant 12 months a year. During the tour we’ll be taking a look at some of our other storage crops including beans, winter squash, Brussels sprouts, and radicchio. And we’ll take a peek inside a few of our greenhouses.

A Discussion about Fall | Farmer vs. Chef Perspectives

A Farmer’s Perspective: Summer Rain and Seasonal Shifts

A Chef’s Perspective on Fall: It all Comes down to Produce, people, Profits& Pigs

— Orchard Kitchen —