Wednesday, May 8, 2013

mad farmers garden



The Mad Farmers Garden




To be perfectly honest, I was quite nervous upon meeting and interviewing Ian and Hannah. I had never conducted an interview that did not involve someone whom I knew personally, so needless to say I was nervous. I felt that no matter how I tried to illustrate the entire experience, I would fail to express the nuances and details that gave my interviewees their essence. I was intimidated by the information I had collected, for it was a blank canvas that seemed far too precious to embrace. I realize as a writer that I am never fully objective that my insecurities keep me from writing freely. All I can really express in this preface is my gratitude for having met such delightful people, and for all of the insight I gained into what their world was like. So to Hannah and Ian and the little Farmer Person on the way, I am eternally thankful for the experience and the good company… and the delicious meal!

There are some experiences in life that exceed even our greatest expectations-- a strain of happenstance that revives ones faith in humanity, in love, in nature and all things deemed hopeless. The Mad Farmers Garden will warrant this warmth in heart and in mind. The hospitality of a lovely couple, Ian and Hannah, with a baby in the womb and a warm Mung Bean Pannier stewing on the stove, is enough to make a staunch conservative turn into the next Wendell Berry.

These sincere and brilliant people will welcome a stranger into their home, concoct a delicious meal—which took them days to prepare after waiting patiently for the ingredients to grow and harvest. Then they sit with their new friend, formerly the nervous stranger and talk in soft, melodic verses of passionate intent. These farmers, gardeners, lovers, friends, chefs, enthusiasts, environmentally aware “Arch Druids” are at the local Farmers Market every Saturday morning. They have what is admittedly the saddest booth amongst the rows of decadent venders. Their smiles may seem weary and tired, but their tanned faces illuminate as loyal customers approach them with beaming stories of how their purple broccoli salad was hit at the Church Sunday Luncheon.

To prepare for the interview/dinner date, I furiously flipped through some writings of the venerable Wendell Berry, a poet and farmer who was the original “Mad Farmer.” The Manifesto: Mad Farmer Liberation Front famed poem was one I had in my possession, but never read out loud. Within the first five minutes upon entering their home, I was rolling dough for dinner and reading aloud (upon request of the lovely Hannah), the following:

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
Vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
Any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection. (Berry, 1973)

After reading this, Hannah spoke softly “Beautiful, sometimes it makes people cry… I did, I wept.” She continued assisting my sad attempt at rolling the dough. Her instruction was poetic and gentle if I made a mistake Hannah was quick to remedy it with reassurance. Ian watched her watching me as he stood stirring something odorous and orange on the stove.

I was initially embarrassed by bringing a bottle of wine (which I spent a solid hour choosing what I thought would be the best candidate, local and organic) as a token of my gratitude, upon greeting a very pregnant Hannah. I apologized repeatedly as she laughed saying “Oh I love wine, thank you, and I will drink it after the baby is born, I assure you.”

This led me to my next quivering inquiry, “ Do you know if you are having a boy or a girl? Do you have a name picked out?”

Hannah and Ian quickly glanced at one another, Ian interjected, “No, we just hope it is human.”

Hannah followed with a giggle, “We hope it is a human, see, I have a deep affection for one of the goats.” We laugh collectively, and I sigh, “Have you chosen a name?”

“Well, we have considered giving the baby a separate last name, something anonymous, like person.” Hannah smiled slyly.

Ian continued on with fortitude, saying “And maybe with a first name of Farmer”

“Farmer Person… It does have a ring to it.” I interjected.

And with that we all sit at the table. Ian serves us the dish with a discerning poise. The dish is a Mung bean Pamir with goat cheese accompanied by flat tortillas (which I contributed to their oddly shaped majesty) and Greek yogurt. It was delicious, savory and in all honesty, quite pungent. Mung beans are notorious for their distinct smell, although the scent deceives the tongue because they are absolutely lovely in taste. Hannah reveals that, since they grow and live (literally) off the land and garden, that up until a few weeks ago, “We were living off green beans.”

“For six weeks straight, just green beans, breakfast lunch and dinner. It was all we had, so we had to get creative” Ian reveled in what I could only imagine was a green bean leaning tower of Green Bean Pizza, with a side of curried green beans a la carte, a la mode a la on and on and on (I am neither a chef nor a wine connoisseur, so I will refrain from being ostentatious, for the sake of my own sanity and credibility).

Hannah and Ian are both incredibly kind and nurturing people, although Ian can seem somewhat intimidating at times, for his matter-of-fact tone and swift body language can be misinterpreted as aggressive, though in reality, this is the farthest from the truth. Ian is passionate, frank, and irreverent. When I asked him about the history of the farm, he corrected me immediately, “It is actually a garden; the farm is 105 years old and has been family owned since the fifties.”

Hannah interjects, “In fact, Ian’s great uncle lives with us as well, Bob is his name; He is 90 years old.” She motions her head towards a closed door behind her, insinuating that Bob must be residing in there, catching nuances of conversation creeping through the floorboards. I continue on, taking out a pencil and notebook, writing vigorously as much as my hand will allow while keeping my composure of a polite and grateful guest in mind. After the meal is devoured Ian collects our empty plates as Hannah asks, sheepishly, “No Dessert?”

“No, no dessert.” Ian seemed serious at first, but quickly grabbed a dish of sesame candy. Hannah described the ingredients behind these delicious trinkets. Peanut butter, Tahini, honey, sesame seeds, and sugar make up the candies anatomy. While devouring the bars, they discussed what a typical day in the garden was. Wake up time is at 7 am, immediately followed by chores and then breakfast, the rest of the day is devoted to growing, “what do you grow?” I ask, “everything we can,” Ian says until interrupted by Hannah saying, “Except Winnebago”; they both laugh and Ian responds, “I will one day, you’ll see.”

After gardening they tend to the goats, which they milk, at least six a day. One of the goats I had the opportunity to meet after dinner, her name was Bella, and she had been the last baby of Ian’s first goat who died after giving birth. Bella was affectionate and frisky, full of personality, and had obviously been quite spoiled by her doting owners. I watched as Hannah milked a goat named Camel (many of the goats were given names of other animals), and was moved by the obvious care and affection Hannah and Ian had for their animals.

After sunset and work had been accomplished for the day, Ian and Hannah would pick from their garden the supper that would be prepared and shared together. There was so much love in that kitchen, so much kindness, and warmth. The entire experience has left me yearning for more, and I intend on returning very soon… and then perhaps I will try my hand at living off the land, truly and passionately so, as these Mad Farmers do.


Works Cited

Berry, W. (1973). Manifesto: The Mad Farmers   Liberation Front The Country of Marriage. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc.    






Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Mad Farmers Market


Davenport Freight House Farmer's Market
421 W. River Drive, Davenport, Iowa 52801

Saturdays 8-1
Tuesdays 3-6

What the Mad Farmers Grow and Provide at the Farmers Market:


Vegetables:

arugula

asparagus
beets
broccoli
brussels sprouts
cabbage
cauliflower
celery
chinese greens
collards
cucumber
edamame soybeans
eggplant
garlic
green beans
green onions
hot peppers
kale
kohlrabi
leeks
lettuce
mustard greens
okra
onions
parsnips
peas
potatoes
pumpkins
radishes
salad greens
salad mix

spinach
summer squash
sweet peppers
swiss chard
tomatillos
tomatoes
turnips
winter-squash
zucchini

Fruits:

blackberries
raspberries
rhubarb
strawberries

Meats/Livestock:

chicken
duck
goat
rabbit

Dairy/Eggs:

buttermilk
eggs
goat cheese
goat milk
goat yogurt


Processed:

baked goods

bread


Herbs:

dried herbs
fresh herbs
medicinal herbs


Flowers:

edible flowers
fresh flowers

Specialty Items:

luffa