Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. No, not because of any hostile English takeover of an unsuspecting native population, not because of big-buckled pilgrim shoes or hand-print turkey paintings or the compulsive drive to bring decorative tree-droppings (read: leaves, branches, dried flowers) into the house and scatter them about in a playfully Martha-esque fall…
A few weeks ago I was gifted a few rather large bags of basil. Maybe four or five gallons, loose? I dunno. It was a lot of basil. An overwhelming amount. Generally I would be totally excited about this – I LOVE basil. But the truth is, I have so little time these days that…
I know, I know. I’ve been waving this one around for months now, making references to how I’ll eventually get it together and post about those glorious little snacks, the dilly beans. It’s not that I wanted you to suffer, not that I have some sort of sneaky deal with the bean growers – they’re…
I love huckleberry season. Why, you ask (as if you don’t love them too, be honest, now)? First off, huckleberries, while small, are not plagued with the standard onslaught of unpleasantries that often come with wild foraging: no brambles, thorns/spines, no awkward crawls under bushes or 3 mile hikes through the rain, no damaged clothes,…
(note: I’m away at music camp this week. I’ll be back soon, though). It’s finally happened. I never thought it would. I’ve heard other people talk about it, but somehow I never truly believed we’d have TOO MUCH produce. Namely, right now we have too many carrots, and I’m running out of ideas. Carrot cake?…
I never quite understood marmalade. It was one of those things the early pioneers must have made: fresh fruit was precious, the vitamins scarce, and therefore even the seemingly inedible peel had to be used in any way possible. So they’d chop it up, boil it down into a thick goop, and eat it on…
Dog Island Farm is a small urban farm in the San Francisco Bay Area.
