Perennial Vegetables (Part II)

This is Part II of a two-part review of the book. (Read Part I of the review of Eric Toensmeier's Perennial Vegetables.)

Toensmeier, Eric. Perennial Vegetables: From Artichoke to 'Zuiki' Taro, a Gardener's Guide to Over 100 Delicious, Easy-to-Grow Edibles. Chelsea Green Publishing: White River Junction, Vermont, 2007.

Part II of the book begins with a caution about sampling too much of too many new food plants for the first time. This is an important caution, given the prevalence of food allergies. Sample slowly! I was also a little taken aback to see how frequently some of these perennials have poisonous cousins and look alikes. Exercise caution and know what you are eating before you taste!

After that brief caution, Part II plunges into the meat (OK, the vegetables) of the subject in earnest. What follows is a list of edible perennials, accompanied by a map of the U.S. climate range for the particular plant (similar to the maps in bird-watching books); shaded pink where the crop is perennial and yellow where it might be grown as an annual. Along with the Latin name of the plant and known common names, Toensmeier provides the following for each entry (as applicable): Overview, Crop Description, Climate, Tolerances and Preferences, Naturalization, Pests-Diseases-Weeds, Propagation-Planting-Cultivation, Harvest and Storage, Uses, and Related Species and Breeding Potential. Wow! These "notes" on various plants are alone worth the price of admission. (However, I should note that Toensmeier breaks his pattern sometimes and treats some plant in a cursory manner, e.g., Lovage, pp. 86-87.) I cannot wait to try a few new plantings and report on the results this year. But, of course, I live in what Toensmeier calls the "Cold Temperate" section of the country in Zone 5b Indianapolis. I'll not be able to plant anything now until the ground thaws. We woke today to a temperature of 16F in an area that regularly experiences temperatures as as low as -16F. It will be March 2010 before I am able to plant, and many of the perennials will likely take a full year or more to become fully established. So, my sampling of new vegetables will be slow. As indicated in the previous review, though Toensmeier discusses growing tropical perennials in some locations as annuals, I plan, because of my particular climate, to ignore the tropical plants and those for the warmer Southeast and review the book with an eye toward its greatest usefulness to me here in the Cold Temperate Midwest.

So, what can I and will I plant? Herewith, my personal list of potential perennials, with an asterisk beside those I plan to try in 2010:

Onion Family, Alliaceae

Arrowhead, tubers cooked like potatoes.

Multiplier Onions

*Ramps (wild leek)

Perennial Onions

The Celery Family, Apiaceae

*Lovage

Water Celery

*Skirret

The Aroid Family, Araceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Spikenard Family, Araliaceae

Udo

The Aster Family, Asteraceae

Chicory and Dandelion

Sunchoke (Jerusalem Artichoke)

Fuki

Scorzonera

The Malabar Spinach Family, Basellaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Cabbage Family, Brassicaceae

Turkish Rocket

Sea Kale

Watercress

The Cactus Family, Cactaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Canna Family, Cannaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Papaya Family, Caricaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Goosefoot Family, Chenopodiaceae

*Good King Henry

The Morning Glory Family, Convolvulaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Squash Family, Cucurbitaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Sedge Family, Cyperaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Yam Family, Dioscoreaceae

*Yams (D. japonica and Chinese yam)

The Wood-Fern Family, Dryopteridaceae

Ostrich Fern

The Spurge Family, Euphorbiaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Pea Family, Fabaceae

*Groundnut

The Mint Family, Lamiaceae

Chinese Artichoke

The Lily Family, Liliaceae

Asparagus

Camass

Daylily

Giant Solomon's Seal

The Mallow Family, Malvaceae

Musk Mallow

The Neem Family, Meliaceae

Fragrant Spring Tree

The Mulberry Family, Moraceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Moringa Family, Moringaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Banana Family, Musaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Lotus Family, Nelumbonaceae

Water Lotus

The Wood-Sorrel Family, Oxalidaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Pokeweed Family, Phytolaccaceae

Pokeweed

The Grass Family, Poaceae

Running Bamboos

the Smartweed Family, Polygonaceae

Rhubarb

*Sorrel

The Nightshade Family, Solanaceae

Wolfberry

The New Zealand Spinach Family, Tetragoniaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Linden Family, Tiliaceae

Linden

The Nasturtium Family, Tropaeolaceae

NONE AVAILABLE

The Nettle Family, Urticaceae

Stinging Nettle and Wood Nettle

Remember, I have listed above ONLY what Toensmeier has claimed is hardy as a perennial to Zone 5b. Part III of the book is entitled "Resources" and includes lists of perennial vegetables for each climate type (similar to what I have done above, but for all of the plant hardiness zones and with greater detail, including variety names and Latin names). He also includes a list of recommended books in the following categories: useful plants, permaculture and edible landscaping, history-ecology-native/non-native species, garden climates, and gardening techniques, water gardening, pests-diseases, and propagation. There is a short, but excellent list of organizations and web sites, and lists of plant and seed sources and garden suppliers. Finally, Toensmeier includes a bibliography and helpful index.

I heartily recommend the book. It is well worth the $35 list price. The only downside is that the cultivation of perennials as garden vegetables is so new that the details are sometimes sketchy at best, because sketchy details are all that is available. Toensmeier has done us a great service in drawing so much information together under one roof. It is now our turn to do the hard work of collecting, propagating, and breeding these plants--and introducing them to our friends and neighbors--until they become successful, mainstream garden varieties. I for one wish winter would hurry up and end so that I can get started.

[Note: The above title was provided for review by the publisher. No remuneration was received for the review.]

Perennial Vegetables

This is Part I of a two-part review of the book.
(Read Part II of the review of Eric Toensmeier's Perennial Vegetables.)

Toensmeier, Eric. Perennial Vegetables: From Artichoke to 'Zuiki' Taro, a Gardener's Guide to Over 100 Delicious, Easy-to-Grow Edibles. Chelsea Green Publishing: White River Junction, Vermont, 2007.

If you are a gardener interested in sustainability, the "holy grail" must be a more-or-less stable perennial polyculture. (See Wes Jackson's work with perennial grains at The Land Institute, for a related example.) In other words, you want a garden that mimics nature. The problem is that most of our food gardens are the opposite: we grow lots of annuals, mostly of a very few varieties. That is why, if you are anything like me, you already know what artichokes are--and even the difference between artichokes and Jerusalem artichokes--but you may never have heard of 'Zuiki' Taro or any of the "Over 100 Delicious, Easy-to-Grow Edibles" heralded by Eric Toensmeier's subtitle. His goal is to introduce people who garden for food to 100+ new food crops, all perennials. He wants to ring the changes on perennial vegetables from A to Z! Does he succeed? Yes, in my opinion he does. My only caveat to the readers of this review is that my experience with these plants is very limited. For that reason, and because I have gardened for food avidly now for a decade, I think I am directly in the bulls eye of Mr. Toensmeier's target audience. For far too many of the plants that Toensmeier names I cannot provide an independent evaluation of his recommendations. Most of these plants I have never grown or tasted, or even seen with any recognition! And that is what is so exciting. I cannot wait to devote sections of my garden to this new (to me) kind of vegetable next year. Already I grow lots of perennial fruit, so the addition of perennial vegetables is only natural. The key questions, it appears, will be where to find good varieties of the vegetables Toensmeier names ("Only a small number of nurseries and seed companies offer even the best perennial vegetables!") and whether I agree that they are palatable. (This latter appears to be a point of much debate.)

Part I: Gardening with Perennial Vegetables

Before we take a look at a few examples of the many new varieties that will be on our Zone 5b purchasing list for next spring, let's review part one of the book. I'll call this the "How to Garden" section. It is devoted to general information about gardening, with an eye toward the gardening of perennial vegetables. If you already have experience with perennial ornamental plants, fruits, and nuts, there will not be much new in this section. You already know much that is required to plan the garden, choose the plants, prepare the soil, and plant and care for your new "babies." You know how agonizingly long it can take for your plants to "grow up" (especially if more mature specimens are not readily available for planting), how to watch for and mitigate problems with species that are "aggressive," and all about plant pests and diseases.

Given the relation of perennial vegetable growing to the concept of permaculture, it isn't surprising that a whole chapter of the book is devoted to "Design Ideas" (chapter 2). I must admit to a bit of bias here. I have never quite been able to swallow the whole permaculture ideal, especially as presented by Introduction to Permaculture. It has always seemed a little bit Rube Goldberg to me. Permaculture as a system and movement just seems a bit too complicated and totalizing. The idea that humans can so totally plan and design every aspect of their environment without something going wildly a muck seems to me to smack of the same sort of hubris that afflicts rampant development. Too much talk of "conscious design" and the "harmonious integration" of the elements of a garden make me want to say, "you haven't seen my garden!" And, when I look at such fully detailed plans, "you don't have my limited budget." My garden is a constant flux between chaos and order, with chaos always on the verge of gaining the upper hand. All that having been said, the great thing about this chapter (and the whole book) is that Toensmeier doesn't present a "system" so much as real, good, reliable information. With regard to permaculture, for example, he merely provides a few drawings of exemplary garden layouts and recommends several resources for further study, including Edible Forest Gardens (2 volume set), which he co-authored. He also recommends The Complete Book of Edible Landscaping: Home Landscaping with Food-Bearing Plants and Resource-Saving Techniques, Designing And Maintaining Your Edible Landscape Naturally, and Food Not Lawns: How to Turn Your Yard into a Garden And Your Neighborhood into a Community.

For the purposes of "Selecting Species" (chapter 3), Toensmeier divides the country into "eight basic climate types." The climates are

• Extreme Cold: High Mountains and Frozen Northlands
  
• Cold Temperate: East, Midwest, and Mountain West
  
• Cool Maritime: The Pacific Northwest
  
• Hot and Humid: The Southeast
  
• Arid and Hot: The Southwest
  
• Mediterranean and Mild Subtropical: Southern and Coastal California
  
• Tropical Lowlands: Hawaii and South Florida
  
• The Hawaiian Upland Tropics
  

Indianapolis at Zone 5b is in the Cold Temperate section of the country. Though Toensmeier discusses growing tropical perennials in some locations as annuals, I plan, because of my particular climate, to ignore the tropical plants and those for the warmer Southeast and review the book with an eye toward its greatest usefulness to me here in the Cold Temperate Midwest. A subsection of this chapter is entitled, "You Might Be Surprised by What You Can Grow." While I trust that Toensmeier knows whereof he speaks, I'll want to verify that before sinking a lot of money into plants that may not be hardy in my zone. For example, Toensmeier lists the groundnut (Apios americana, aka Potato bean) as "extremely cold-hardy..., being hardy to Zone 3." However, the only source I've found for them as of now (12/01/2009) is in the Edible Landscaping catalog. Edible Landscaping lists the plant as recommended for Zones 6-8. At $15 for the quart or $25 for the gallon, I'll think twice before going all out. Maybe a quart first just to see whether I can get them established? My hunch is that the catalog is playing it safe with the USDA Hardiness Zone info and that Toensmeier may be stretching. At any rate, Zone 5b is close enough to Zone 6 for this gardener to gamble, what with global warming and all that jazz.

One potentially controversial aspect of the book should be mentioned. Toensmeier advocates a rethinking of the whole issue of nonnative plants. Following David Theodoropoulos (Invasion Biology: Critique of a Pseudoscience), he suggests that the whole "native" vs. "nonnative" plant issue has been overblown, or that the native plant movement has become too rigid. More to the point, he advocates the use of some non-native perennial vegetables.

Toensmeier offers an extensive section on plant propagation and breeding in chapter 4, "Techniques." Throughout the book he advocates that we backyard gardeners must once again regain this significant part of our gardening heritage to become effective plant breeders and propagators once again. We seem to have lost that art, especially the art of breeding, and with it some of the variety that used to characterize food gardening. More to the point, many of these perennial vegetables are still very hard to come by. Propagating them ourselves, and improving the available varieties, will for a while be our best and sometimes only choice.

[Note: The above title was provided for review by the publisher. No remuneration was received for the review.]

Leavings: Poems

Wendell Berry, Leavings: Poems, Counterpoint, Berkeley, CA, 2010. (132 pp.)

I have been living for the past few weeks with Wendell Berry's latest anthology of poems in my backpack and have decided it is time to share a few thoughts about it. The book is in two parts: the first part is a potpourri, an all-too-short assortment of letter poems, occasional pieces, and brief reflections (the 20 titled poems in the collection are here); the second part is entitled "Sabbaths 2005-2008" and carries the tag line, "How may a human being come to rest?" (54 numbered poems make up this section.)

The title Leavings is not the title of any of the poems, but seems to sum up the book, as if Berry were deliberately taking leave of his readers. "It is hard to have hope. It is harder as you grow old." (2007.VI) "In time a man disappears..." (2007.VII) "I know I am getting old and I say so,..." (2005.VII) There are other leavings here too, other than the merely personal, predominantly that of the descending water that flows out from a lowly stream named Camp Branch. Falling tones, falling leaves (literally), falling steps, falling stones, falling snow and falling rain transport the reader to the Kentucky countryside where we see the place that has meant and still means the world to Mr. Berry. This small collection takes the reader on a painful but beautiful journey, a shared pilgrimage down familiar paths measured in ever slower and more halting steps, made all the more valuable for the fact that the reader is not required to leave his native place to join Mr. Berry except in imagination. "So many times I've gone away from here, where I'd rather be than any place I know.... It is death." (2008.X)

One of my favorite poems in this collection, one I know I'll return to many times, occurs early in Part I and is entitled simply "An Embarrassment." The severe economy of language--3 or 4 word lines mostly, mostly 1 or 2 syllable words--conveys the embarrassment of friends who regularly offer thanks for a meal when they eat alone but who are now trying to decide whether to do so when they are together. One of them, having decided to make a go of the prayer, leaves (!) them both embarrassed as the prayer falls awfully flat. I'll not ruin the ending for you, but it is a Berry-esque show stopper. For someone who makes his living as a pastor, that one poem was worth the price of admission. But there are many others from this book that will now join my ever growing list of Berry favorites: e.g., "A Speech to the Garden Club of America," which admonishes us to go "back to school, this time in gardens." Or "While Attending the Annual Convocation of Cause Theorists and Bigbangists at the Local Provincial Research University, the Mad Farmer Intercedes from the Back Row." (If you've read The Mad Farmer Poems, you'll appreciate the appropriateness of this addition to the corpus.

I have been reading (and re-reading) Wendell Berry's work for quite a while now. That means I've heard many of the words and seen many of the ideas before. But these poems are new, encountered for the first time like today's bracing walk in a familiar woods I've visited many times. In that sense they are very gratefully received; it is, after all, November and there are too few such walks left to me ...and to you.

It wouldn't be right to end the review without a full list of Wendell Berry's poetic works. Check your shelves! If you do not have all of these, you'll want them on a shelf close by when the winter winds begin to blow the snow around.

The Broken Ground: Poems

Clearing









Farming: A Hand Book







Openings: Poems (Harvest/Hbj Book)

A Part (Part Paper)

Sabbaths


Sayings and Doings





The Wheel

Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food

Berry, Wendell. Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food. Counterpoint: Berkeley, CA, 2009. With an introduction by Michael Pollan.

It is hard for me to admit, ever, to being disappointed by Wendell Berry. And even now it isn't so much Berry, whom I do not know personally (I've only ever heard him speak once live), but the latest book to come out under his name that is the source of my disappointment. And it isn't what is in the book that disappoints me. The problem is that I have already read most of the content before in other books by Berry that I already own. This book should have come with a large warning on the ad page (I pre-ordered from Amazon, based on the advance copy description) that this book is 99% recycled material, pre-composted, repackaged fertilizer if you will. So, after rushing into the house to open the package when it arrived, I had that all-too-familiar sinking feeling as I flipped through the pages of my "new" book by Berry. Other than the introduction by Pollan, I've seen it all before. In fact, I now own multiple copies of most of these chapters in the form of other collections of Berry essays.

Even more annoying to me is the fact that the chapters come marked only with the date of previous publication. (Except for the fiction excerpts, which are marked by the title of the novel in question, but not with the date of publication.) Nowhere does there seem to be a note citing the locus of that previous publication. I cannot even confirm easily my suspicion that I already own (versus having merely already read) the non-fiction essay in question. And as you might expect, I do not object so much to reading something twice (if I cannot remember that I have read it already, that is my problem) as I object to purchasing it twice. As someone who is interested in the context within which ideas arise and the history of their publication and dissemination, I like to know how to track the paths of words and ideas in the world, especially those that have occurred elsewhere in a prior conversation. Here the essays seem to be lifted out of their primary location and recombined in such a way as to erase all sense of place. (I would say time and place, except that the year is duly noted at the top of each chapter.) That is something I think Berry would (or should) object mightily to, given that he is so keen to preserve local adaptation and local landscapes. If we cannot preserve the local nature of our thoughts and ideas from such globalized generalization, how will we ever preserve real farms, farmers, and food?

I will not do what should have been the author's, editor's, and publisher's work for them by tracking down and publishing the location of the previous publication of these essays, but I will do you the favor of listing the title and date of publication here so that you can check your shelves before you order:

Part I: Farming

Nature as Measure, 1989

Stupidity in Concentration, 2002 (which includes Berry's definition of "sustainable agriculture")

Agricultural Solutions for Agricultural Problems, 1978

A Defense of the Family Farm, 1986

Let the Farm Judge, 1997

Energy in Agriculture, 1979

Conservationist and Agrarian, 2002

Sanitation and the Small Farm, 1971

Renewing Husbandry, 2004

Part II: Farmers

Seven Amish Farms, 1981

A Good Farmer of the Old School, 1985

Charlie Fisher, 1996

A Talent for Necessity, 1980

Elmer Lapp's Place, 1979

on The Soil and Health, 2006

Agriculture from the Roots Up, 2004

Part III: Food

mostly drawn from Berry's fiction writing

from That Distant Land

from Hannah Coulter

from Andy Catlett

from "Misery"

from The Memory of Old Jack

from Jayber Crow

from Hannah Coulter (again)

The Pleasures of Eating, 1989

So, would I recommend the book, and if so, to whom? Clearly I wouldn't recommend the book to anyone who is well familiar with Berry's work and who owns a considerable library of Berry's fiction and non-fiction. I would recommend it to anyone who hasn't read Berry, who knows him only by reputation, and who wants a quick introduction to his thoughts about sustainable agriculture and local food. For example, I could imagine the book as assigned reading in a college course on contemporary issues, especially environmental issues. But the reader should understand that tracking down the original source of some of the essays may be difficult should he or she become "hooked" like so many of us are, including evidently Michael Pollan, on Wendell Berry's prose and poetry. (Which brings up another interesting oversight; why wasn't some of Berry's poetry included?)

The Soil and Health

Sir Albert Howard, The Soil and Health: A Study of Organic Agriculture (Culture of the Land), with a new introduction by Wendell Berry, The University Press of Kentucky, 2006.

This book is one of A Series in the New Agrarianism by UPK, edited by Norman Wirzba, that bears the title Culture of the Land. The book was originally published in 1947. It followed the publication and good reception of An Agricultural Testament in 1940. (One may hope that An Agricultural Testament will also be added to this series or reprinted by some other publisher soon.) This book is one of a set of classic texts, along with F. C. King's Farmers of Forty Centuries,
Lady Eve Balfour's The Living Soil (Soil Association Organic Classics), and the like, that have occasionally been reprinted and should remain always available in print. One suspects that they will be widely accessible again as soon as they enter the public domain. In the meantime, short run or print on demand--or re-sale by abebooks.com and the like--must suffice to keep a new generation of readers informed.

This book certainly deserves the reputation it has received as a "classic." Sir Albert Howard is plain spoken and easy for any agricultural practitioner--including this one--to understand. Though it is somewhat getting the cart before the horse to say so, Howard truly exemplifies the purpose of the series, demonstrating a profound appreciation for the "intimate and practical connections which exist between humans and the earth." Perhaps that is because Howard was, as is often stated, a pioneer and founding source for the New Agrarianism and the organic movement. Nowhere have I seen the connection between humans and the earth more profoundly and clearly stated than in the progression of Howard's outline for Part II of the book, "Disease in Present-Day Farming and Gardening." Howard moves with deliberation from diseases of the soil, through diseases of crops, to disease and health in livestock, and ultimately to a brief and convincing statement of the relationship between soil fertility and human health.

I was bemused to discover again the depth of my ignorance. I am a product of U.S. public schools--primary, secondary, and college all in the great agriculturally dependent state of Tennessee--from 1972 to 1984. I took "biology" as a school course (not counting the units of biology in early science classes) twice, once in High School and once again in college, but never do I recall hearing of the "Mycorrhizal Association" or the "web-like mycelial strands" that surround and invade some plant roots. As recently as 2007 I took the Master Gardener course from the Purdue Extension service, and again do not recall having heard anything about the mycorrhizal association in some roots. Certainly there was an emphasis on keeping organic matter high in our gardens and an emphasis on care in working the garden not to destroy the soil structure (not to work too often, or when the soil is too wet or too dry), but nothing was said about the importance of the symbiotic relationship with some microbes for the growth of some plants. It is clear that the association is understood as scientific fact and that its importance for plant growth is also understood, though the remedies (adding more synthetic phosphorous to what Howard would have called the "artificial manure" mix) are not necessarily ones embraced by organic agriculture. (e.g., Purdue note regarding the effect of flooding on helpful fungi.)

The fact that the mycorrhizal association is recognized and still studied today as an aspect of forestry and natural resource management suggests that Howard's drawing of connections between the forest (Howard recommends "afforestation," including forests in the long-term agricultural rotation) and a sustainable agriculture and human health is true, even if viewed by today's agro-science technicians as impractical. The book, 300 pages of small type, is too extensive to do it justice with a single review. Perhaps the best recommendation for the book is its constant citation by others more qualified than I to speak about organic agriculture. I think it is for good reason that Howard and his "Wheel of Life" (with its imperative to return everything to the soil whence it came) has formed a constant touchstone for authors like Wendell Berry (e.g., "The Use of Energy" in The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry). Perhaps the best and most important thing to take from a first (hopefully not the last) reading of Howard is that "The first duty of the agriculturalist [farmer or gardener] must always be to understand that he [or she] is a part of Nature and cannot escape from his environment" (p. 194). This maxim leads everywhere in the book to delightful conclusions like the following: "the attempt to raise natural earth-borne crops on an exclusive diet of water and mineral dope--the so-called science of hydroponics--is science gone mad; it is an absurdity which has nothing in common with the ancient art of cultivation" (ibid.)

To which this reviewer can only add "amen!"

The Winter Harvest Handbook: Year-Round Vegetable Production Using Deep-Organic Techniques and Unheated Greenhouses

The Winter Harvest Handbook: Year Round Vegetable Production Using Deep Organic Techniques and Unheated Greenhouses, by Eliot Coleman, with Photographs and Illustrations by Barbara Damrosch, Chelsea Green Publishing Company, 2009.

Eliot Coleman has a new book out and it is a measure of his popularity with readers of all stripes that I had to wait from April to June on the waiting list at the Indianapolis Marion County Public Library(IMCPL) to receive a copy, and then promptly had the book recalled as soon as I got it home. I'll get back on the list as soon as I return the book, and eventually I'll spring for the cost of ownership. This book represents a significant advance in some of the production aspects over other books by Coleman, even those others from Chelsea Green. Especially delightful are the full-color photos of Coleman's garden operation. As we have come to expect, Coleman brings the same care and craft to writing that he so obviously brings to growing beautiful, healthy vegetables. For those who already own The New Organic Grower's Four-Season Harvest (1992, 2002) or Four-Season Harvest: Organic Vegetables from Your Home Garden All Year Long (1992, 1999) or The Winter Harvest Manual or The New Organic Grower (revised edition, 1995; see the previous blog entry), there will be much that is familiar here, but as Coleman points out, there has also been an evolution in his methods as he constantly seeks improvement. Those who own his other books will want the updates provided here. There are new varieties of vegetables, new techniques for gardening and building greenhouses, new tools and new resources.

The thing that fascinates me most about Coleman is that we have here a practitioner who is also very much historically aware and steeped in the literature of his craft. I would read and buy his books for their historical summaries (so aptly labeled "historical inspiration") and bibliographies (especially the annotated "historical reading list") alone, as much as for the lists of tried and true vegetable varieties and gardening techniques. Every last page has both instruction and inspiration.

I am not ready (yet) to launch a full-time operation, so some of what Coleman provides is beyond my ability to incorporate. For example, I can admire his greenhouse design, but I'm more likely to implement his "quick hoops" (maybe even this fall). His lists of succession planting dates and the yearly schedule are quite helpful in a suggestive way for those who would like to "go and do likewise." (And who wouldn't...like to go and do likewise?) And his gentle presentation of the more philosophical aspects of what he calls "deep-organic" gardening (a combination of local, sustainable, etc.) is winsome. Unlike many of the strident voices we hear today, Eliot Coleman's voice is one of experience tempered by the Maine winters. He knows whereof he speaks and he lets it permeate his writing. Thanks, Mr. Coleman, for sharing your gift with us.

The New Organic Grower

Coleman, Eliot. The New Organic Grower.

I am continuously amazed by the depth of my own ignorance. After devouring a couple of Joel Salatin's books, I began searching for some of the works listed in his bibliography and cited by him as exemplary books on farming. Salatin is my new favorite author, so why not? Few of the books were available immediately from the Indianapolis Public Library, but I was able to put a hold (recall) on this one, Eliot Coleman's The New Organic Grower: A Master's Manual of Tools and Techniques for the Home and Market Gardener (A gardener's supply book). Wow! I thought I had already been exposed to all of the great classics of Organic Gardening, but here is an author whose 30 years in the garden has been hiding from me since 1988, when this book was first published.

Simply stated, Coleman has perfected the kind of farming to which I aspire. He calls it "biological agriculture." Whatever. It is small scale. He claims that 5 acres is the "optimum" size. (For a couple; or 2.5 acres per adult family member. He claims that 100 people can be fed a year's worth of vegetables from 2.5 acres.) In other words, to borrow a phrase from Logsdon, Coleman farms at nature's pace and on a sustainable human scale. But Coleman is not stuck in the past. He learns from the past, certainly. He talks about how he first went to school on pre-1940 publications (the sorts of books we are re-publishing in digital form at tumbledownfarm.com), but he also uses the latest technology (best crafted hand tools, small implements, simplest techniques) when it offers the best option for maximizing vegetable growth. What a breath of fresh air! Here is an author who recognizes and makes use of the best ideas of pre-industrial agriculture in a 21st century world.

Many of the basic topics Coleman covers are already familiar to me, so I was able to skim the sections related to cover crops, crop rotations, and the like. But I read slowly, and then re-read the sections on soil fertility (I can never get enough of techniques for improving the soil), especially farm-generated fertility, soil blocks (something I'll definitely try now), and pests (something I haven't paid enough attention to in the past). Eliot is especially known for season extension (in fact, he has a whole 'nuther book on the subject, Four-Season Harvest: Organic Vegetables from Your Home Garden All Year Long). Perhaps best, Coleman offers a full bibliography of "contemporary" and "classic" books and articles related to organic gardening and farming, and a list of gardening tool suppliers. It is a breath of fresh air to hear an author who clearly has so much to offer, paying homage to these written sources. And it is great to see a practitioner who clearly also appreciates books and reading. His stories about monthly trips to the State University Library were inspiring. Perhaps the best news that Eliot offers is his example that farming needn't be anti-intellectual. He has learned from many sources and he shares freely what he has learned.

What is missing? In a book that so inspires people to "go and do likewise," it would have been helpful to see a real budget. When you say that a model is economically viable, you have some responsibility to support the claim with dollar amounts for expenses and revenues so that we can see whether there appears to be some slight of hand.

Need I say it? Get the book, you'll not regret it!

You Can Farm, Part II

You Can Farm: the entrepreneur's guide to start and succeed in a farm enterprise, 1998, Polyface, Inc., Swoope, Virginia.





Part I of the review is available in the previous blog post.

Well, the week is up and I've finished the book, despite the frenetic schedule, so here are my thoughts on pp. 208-453. A lot of what what Salatin has to say is "common sense," the sort of things we would have learned in school if our schools had taught us the basics well. For example, Salatin emphasizes the usefulness of brainstorming for problem solving and for reaching our potential and how to prioritize the items in our lists based on critical judgment (Chapter 20). Salatin has a keen sense of what is important and he get's his points across in a memorable way, as in "Señor Salatin, you must poot eet doowwn," which is the 1st rule and most important commandment of accounting (Chapter 32). Perhaps the most important of these chapters for me was the one on creating a good "Filing System" (Chapter 33). There Salatin explains a filing system from his school debate team competition days, one that looks great to me, so good in fact that I'll adopt it this week. I cannot believe I got a PhD and something so basic as a good system for filing escaped me! On the other hand, if you've had as many "communications" and "writing" classes as I've had, you will want to skim or skip Chapter 36 on "Communication."

So far I've only touched on the sections that have to do with running a business. They could be applied with equal impact to any business and to many other aspects of life, not just to farming. And then there are the sections that apply more narrowly to farming: "Grass is the Center" (Chapter 22), "Biodiversity" (Chapter 23), "Water" (Chapter 24), and "Letting Animals Do the Work" (Chapter 25). There are others; these are just examples.

And what would a good review be without at least one significant disagreement between the reviewer and the author? My disagreement with Salatin is about his approach to "Soil Fertility" (Chapter 27; see also Chapter 30, "Reducing Costs"). A summary of my own understanding of soil fertility is available at the main Tumbledown Farm web site. Using Salatin's "debating" analogy, he has taken the affirmative side in this chapter in a debate regarding soil fertility and must offer both a case (what's wrong with the current system) and a plan (a solution). I think Salatin leaves something to be desired in both his case and his plan. First, his case largely dismisses the usefulness of knowing the NPK analysis of one's soil (pp. 326-328). While I agree with Salatin that industrial agriculture has been too narrowly focused on soil chemistry (the problem), I disagree that ignorance of the chemical soil analysis makes any sense as part of a good solution. I do agree that the usual response of a new gardener or farmer to the standard soil analysis is often wrong-headed and expensive--and usually not long lasting. It is wrong for all sorts of reasons (including expense) to pour fertilizers--even organic fertilizers--on the ground in a narrow attempt to address NPK deficiencies and create an "optimal" fertility that is really only a narrow measure of NPK. But knowing (for example) the pH of your soil can help you decide between the various approaches to soil building that are available (including the slow methods advocated by Salatin). There are better and worse ways to build soil, depending on the existing condition of the soil. Adopting a soil-building method that increases the acidity of an already too acid soil would not be wise. Nor would it be wise to plant potassium gobbling crops where you know there is insufficient potassium. At the very least, even if the gardener or farmer does not seek to make rapid improvements in soil condition, whatever steps are taken to build the soil should be informed decisions. And that is where Salatin is most harmful in opinions. He is simply wrong that living organisms can create necessary elements out of nothing. And when you add to this his implicit endorsement of the opinion that classic chemical soil tests are "a scam" (p. 327), you come close to gardening malpractice. Classic chemical soil tests are not as unreliable as Salatin implies and soil chemicals (with the exception of nitrogen) cannot be produced from thin air. Even the release of elements from the soil that are present in forms unusable to plants can take place only in geological time, not human lifetimes.

All that having been said, Salatin's main prescription--lots of carbon material (brown plant material, especially sawdust and wood chips) combined with lots of nitrogen (green plant material and animal urine and manure)--is a winning combination. In a way, he's right even about this: it is simple and relatively inexpensive to grow your soil. NOTE: for a great reminder that humans produce nitrogenous waste too, check out "Yellow is the New Green."

So, to quote Salatin again, why not START NOW! No need to wait another year to begin where I am with what I have. This year we'll add "pastured poultry" (quail) and livestock (pastured rabbits) to our backyard lineup, so that we begin to use those grass strips between the garden rows for something more profitable than a mud-less walking path. (See our garden plan for details.) So, why not check out your own copy of Salatin's "classic" and start your own backyard farm? Why not "Start Now!"?

I checked You Can Farm out of the library, so I have to return it tomorrow, but I know I'll eventually purchase a copy to add it to my library. It is too useful to leave to the vagaries of the recall system. In the meantime, I've already purchased the next book on the reading list...because I cannot get it from the library:

You Can Farm, Part I

You Can Farm: the entrepreneur's guide to start and succeed in a farm enterprise, 1998, Polyface, Inc., Swoope, Virginia.

I couldn't wait another week, by which time I will have devoured the book despite an altogether frenetic schedule, to begin writing the review. I am convinced that Joel Salatin will be my new favorite author, close on the heels of Wendell Berry and Gene Logsdon. Part I of the review will cover chapters 1-19 (pp. 1-207 of 453).

The book reminds me a lot of Harvey W. Wiley's The Lure of the Land: Farming after Fifty, but almost a full century later! But the same sense of sanity and full awareness of the difficulties, and possibilities, of starting in farming are in evidence in both. The great thing about Salatin, of course, is that you do not have worry that the differences are too great between the previous century and this one or that changes have mitigated the usefulness of the advice. The book is full of inspiration and hope...and, have I said it enough? Realism!

Having just read Firms of Endearment: How World-Class Companies Profit from Passion and Purpose, I was pleased to see a "practical farmer" recognize and prioritize the Vision! You've got to be able to see it and dream it to realize it. Chapter One leads with this theme, followed by the importance of Story (chapter 2) and the Right Philosophy (chapter 3). In business parlance (even the not-for-profit sort that I'm associated with), this is all about Mission and Vision work. Salatin is right to emphasize it, prioritize it, and return to it as a theme throughout the book.

Chapter 4, "Do It Now," has to be my favorite (so far)! The point is not to wait for the perfect opportunity to start farming, because the perfect opportunity never comes. There are corollaries, of course, one of which doesn't show up until Chapter 13 (watch out for the irony), "Acquiring Land." The point of Chapter 13 (and some of Chapter 14) is not to wait until you can acquire land to begin farming. Land acquisition comes after success, as a result of success, not before. As Salatin says (p. 158), "Acquiring wealth...is an offensive posture and is generally best done by renting." Land investments are made by the wealthy in order to preserve wealth, which is a defensive posture. Man does that ever make sense, especially in today's mortgage mess. Much of what Salatin recommends would have been a powerful antidote to the excesses of the past few years and would have saved anyone who followed it from the sorts of financial ruin we are seeing now. At any rate, do not wait until you can purchase the picture perfect farm to begin farming...or you'll never begin. ...and above all, do not mortgage yourself deeply to buy the farm or you'll be back in your (other) day job sooner than you think.

Round these out with chapters on Surveying Your Situation (Chapter 5, something like a SWOT list emerges), along with lists of the worst (Chapter 9) and best (Chapter 10) "centerpiece" agricultural/farming opportunities, and additional advice (Top 10 lists of all sorts), makes the first half of this book indispensable to anyone wanting to farm on any scale.

One of the most sobering aspects, for me, was the straight talk about age and farming (also a big aspect of Wiley's book, as the subtitle suggests). I'm not getting any younger. One thing Salatin is surely saying is that I'll need to find a young partner if I ever entertain the notion of quitting my day job to go into farming full time.

So, why not START NOW! No need to wait another year to begin where I am with what I have. ...but I'll at least wait until I've read the second half of the book! Why not check out your own copy and see if you can beat me to the end?

Seeking Awareness in American Nature Writing

I was originally attracted to Seeking Awareness In American Nature Writing by the list of names on the cover: Henry Thoreau, Annie Dillard, Edward Abbey, Wendell Berry, Barry Lopez. What's not to like, right?! Wrong. This book is about the psychology of nature writing, about the psychology of the various authors previously listed. Don't waste your time on this academic reflection on the words of great writers. Go read the great writers. Has it been a while since you read Thoreau? Berry? (Not Barry.) Then ad fontes. It is too early still to do a whole lot in the garden, so you have some reading time left, but too little time to spend it here. That's my two cents. You may have a different opinion.

The Last of the Husbandmen: A Novel of Farming Life

The Last of the Husbandmen by Gene Logsdon, Ohio University Press, 2008.





I much prefer Logsdon's non-fiction writing to his fiction. In fact, I re-read his non-fiction books multiple times, perhaps the greatest compliment I could pay to his writing, since I hardly ever re-read anything in any genre of writing. (Nor do I watch many movies a second time.)

Among my Logsdon favorites (roughly in order) are:


Perhaps my favorite of all time, a classic:
The Contrary Farmer (Real Goods Independent Living Book)


The first edition of this book that is scheduled soon to be released in a second edition: Small-Scale Grain Raising, Second Edition: An Organic Guide to Growing, Processing, and Using Nutritious Whole Grains, for Home Gardeners and Local Farmers


And, of course, Living at Nature's Pace: Farming and the American Dream


That having been said, The Last of the Husbandmen is a good, quick read. There are some wickedly humorous scenes and accompanying dialogue, and some poignant moments (though most of these cross over a little too much for my taste into the sappy and syrupy). Some of it comes across as preachy, something I can take better in a non-fiction than in a fiction setting. Mostly, though, Logsdon knows rural Ohio in his bones and it shows in thoroughly likable characters and pretty good verisimilitude, even if he's telling a parable about the old ways of living and caring for the soil at a time of utter disruption and upheaval.


If you have never read Logsdon, start somewhere else. If you've read everything he's ever written twice, here's a great new story that you'll gobble up like biscuits and sorghum molasses.