A Farewell To Barns

Last Friday was my last day at the barn until cleanout. I grabbed all the garlic and shallots that I expect to be saleable. This Sunday is my first public market, New Amsterdam Market, and I have little to no idea how it will go in terms of sales. I had anticipated cash only sales, but I well realize that cash runs dry, so I did pick up one of those nifty iphone card readers today. The idea that I can take credit and debit cards that way really seems far out. What, you like this painting? Yes, yes I do take cards. You see how easy that was.

Elephant garlic is a problematic product. It's big, sure, and that gets people's attention, but as a plant with cloves containing compounds of garlic and onion, it's flavor is somewhat confused, mild, and I think hits a bitter note on the finish when raw, although the scapes are really great. I have quite a bit of them and do want them to sell, but I don't think I will replant them this November.

They polish up well.

This is not my corn, but another farmer's at the barn. It glimmers in the sunlight.

I will not be growing any of my garlic grown this season, so I am able to bring to market not only a few larger bulbs, but many of the smaller bulbs of Asiatic, Creole, and Purple Stripe that I was going to try to size up. Maybe I will be able to convince a few folks that the smaller bulbs last longer if not taste significantly better than the large. If we're downsizing our NYC sodas, maybe we can downsize our vegetables too.

As part of artist Heather Hart's Bartertown project at the Dumbo Arts Festival this Saturday, September 28 from 12 - 6 pm, I will be extolling the virtues of garlic variety, offering tastes, and for those willing barter some handiwork making bundles or stamping bags, I offer a handful of loose cloves. You can use those cloves to barter for other goods and services. Consider it a way to participate in our agri-culture.

His golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd; 
 O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing!
His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd, 
But spurn'd in vain; youth waneth by increasing: 
Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen; 
Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green.

-From A Farewell to Arms, a sonnet by George Peele