Garden provides a bonus crop

Growing food on our farm has been a part of its life for more than 100 years. From my great-grandparents, to my great-aunt and uncle, to my parents and now to my wife Sherry and I, there has been a vegetable garden of some sort for four generations.

For political reasons I am crediting my male descendants for having some participation in the gardening, but there would have been some scant meals had the males been solely relied upon to bring in the harvest. They were not lazy but had the general farming to tend after.

T he practice of putting up food for the winter was confined to canning until the 1950s. That’s because electricity and the ability to freeze food didn’t arrive in our valley until the late 1940s. The basement of our house is lined with old oak shelves that were used to store the jars of food, which included canned meats prepared with a pressure cooker.

A few decades ago the big meal of the day was dinner – it wasn’t called lunch – and those shelves would produce a hearty fare of roast beef, potatoes, gravy, vegetables and slices of homemade bread that were perfect for cleaning the plate. Supper was more of a lighter meal.

Our move back to the farm nearly 20 years ago was driven by a back to basics movement. Sherry and I planted a large garden, froze and canned vegetables and fruit and raised our own pork, beef and chicken. We had four large chest freezers to hold our annual bounty. These days I wince at the $6 a pound hamburger and think about raising a few steers, but our intensive farming days have passed. We still put in a small vegetable garden so we can enjoy some fresh produce and put away a little food. It wouldn’t be a summer without enjoying that first fresh cucumber or savoring the taste of a homegrown tomato. But the days of becoming a canning factory where we put up dozens of quarts of pickles, tomato juice or salsa are over.

This year we started a fresh vegetable and berry patch, which is now surrounded by a new 6-foot fence to help keep the deer and rabbits out. The latter still find a way to sneak in, but that’s life in the country.

One thing that never changes regardless of where you locate your garden is the eternal battle of weeding. The ample moisture and heat this summer has resulted in a weed explosion.

We’ve also had an invasion of common purslane, which I have discovered is an edible plant that has been used for food and medicinal purposes for more than 4,000 years, according to the University of Wisconsin horticulture folks.

Purslane contains high amounts of omega-3 fatty acids, along with significant amounts of vitamins A and C, as well as calcium, iron, magnesium and potassium and antioxidants. It’s used in salads as a substitute for watercress, spinach and arugula.

Purslane allegedly has a lemony, tangy flavor. I say allegedly because I have yet to sit down to a hearty meal of the weed – perhaps I’m still a little reluctant after once trying nettle soup that tasted as I would imagine the scrapings of wet grass from the bottom of the lawnmower taste.

Some farmers markets sell purslane, which means I’ve been throwing away lots of good money this year while weeding, which pretty much summarizes my luck at farming.

I’d like to say that I’m not losing sleep over the prospect of some purslane pâté, but I actually might be. One of the health benefits of the plant is that it eases insomnia.

OK, I would try it. As long as it was a side salad to a big steak.