Young radicchio starting to head

Last week’s bounty we took to the market included what were - to us - exciting additions of puntarelle, endive, and radicchio.  People bought the puntarelle, to some extent, often because it sounded unique and they were looking for something new to try.  But the beautiful heads of radicchio and frisée endive with its pretty blanched center, stayed on the table with the exception of one sale each.  So we have been eating a lot of both of them, and loving it so much that I’m not sorry they didn’t sell at market.  Except, I’m sad for how much people don’t know about greens and what they are missing in flavor, variety, and nutrition.

So I thought I’d do a series of posts about my experiences with these more unusual greens, and what delicious things to do with them.  The bitter greens I am talking about are just that - the bitter ones, from the chicory family.  These are different from the mustards - arugula, mustard greens, etc.  Mustards are all degrees of peppery, hot, and spicy, but not really bitter, while chicories are all degrees of bitter, but really not spicy.   I am not as much of a fan of the mustards as I am of the chicories.  This first post is devoted to Chicorium intybus, the radicchio.

Radicchio beside young leeks

This one isn't forming a head - just loose leaves

I have a lot of radicchio this year.  Two kinds - Palla Rossa, and Palla di Fuoco Rossa. I have finally learned that to have a lot of heads of radicchio, you have to grow a lot of it.  About every third plant is forming a really good head.  Some of the others have gone straight to a bolt - sending up a flower stalk, and some have turned into a ridiculous loose fluffy clump of leaves that should be in a head, but didn’t quite manage it.  Fortunately, the chickens love them, and can eat their fill of the unusable plants.

Chicken family happily feasting on outer leaves of radicchio

The delicate way the Fedco seed catalogue describes this unpredictable unreliability of radiccio amuses me:  “These radicchios are easy to raise from transplants although they have not yet been refined to absolute uniformity…”

That’s okay.  I like it.  I like the imperfection, and the wildness of it.  Our heads of radicchio are often a little bigger, softer, and looser than the rock-hard, small, dry grocery store radicchio heads.  If you are buying radicchio from me at the market, I’ve left some of the larger outer leaves on to keep them fresher - you can strip these off and find more of a head inside.

Beautifully headed and ready for picking

These things are as gorgeous as a rose, to me.

Two of our favorite ways to eat radicchio are cooked lightly with bacon, vinegar, and maple syrup, or mixed with frisée endive and tossed with a garlic-anchovy dressing and parmesan cheese.  Ohhhh, deliciousness.  I think that people often don’t know how to work with the bitter element in bitter greens and cooking, and therefore avoid it.  If you don’t think you like bitter greens, the key is to either cook it, which softens the bitterness, or to mix it with other greens or other foods to dilute the bitterness, or to dress it with flavors that compliment and change the bitterness.  (Or all three!)

Vinegar and acid flavors work magic on bitter chicories.  It seems like the bite of the acidity covers, or cuts, or changes the bitter flavor, and somehow, leaves it tasting sweet in the aftertaste.  All kinds of vinegar, and lemon can be used.  I also like a sour-sweet combination, like the vinegar-maple syrup dressings we often make.  Strong flavors - parmesan cheese, anchovies, garlic, good olive oil, and salty meats all also complement the bitters and work to the improvement of both tastes.

Dragonwood Radicchio with Bacon, Maple, and Vinegar:

pink and white hearts of radicchio, being shredded for sautée

Slice up a head of radicchio, or two (it cooks down to a fraction of its raw size) into fettuccini-like ribbons. While you’re slicing, start a skillet heating, and fry some diced bacon.  Slice up an onion or some shallots.  When the bacon is done, toss in the shallots, then the cut-up radicchio, into the pan with the bacon, and toss and turn it to coat it with the oil.  Add a tablespoon or so of red wine, or apple cider, or balsamic vinegar, and a splash of maple syrup, and salt and pepper as desired.  The heat should be high enough to cook away most of the juices as they form.  Keep tossing and stirring while the radicchio wilts down and cooks - just a few minutes is all it takes, and then it is done.  We like this topped with a fried egg and toast on the side, for breakfast.

If you like to grill, there are all kinds of grilling recipes for radicchio - here is a delicious-sounding example.

June is just a really busy month on a farm.  I don’t think we realized how busy until a little break time in July and raising our heads above water let us think about it.  Lots of days we went out to work early in the morning, did our other jobs through the day, and worked in the gardens again from 6 til the light faded finally at 10 pm.  I think most days in June I planted something, somewhere.  Now it’s July, and the fruits (and vegetables!) of those labors are showing how worth it it all was:

Going to market on Thursdays has been lots of fun.  Also lots of work, but lots of fun.   Here’s the market stand highlights over the past few weeks at the Westside Farmer’s Market:

Yes, we have been busy.   A busy month since the last post.  With the long day length, we are often outdoors until 9:30 or 10 pm.  Two people, working a little farm, with two other jobs.  I try to grab the camera and document whenever I can, and imagine blog posts in my head as I’m working that don’t seem to materialize at the end of the long day. We about doubled the size of the “market field” this year, plus added on some other plots in other locations.  This is still so small compared to the farmer friends I know, but it’s just the two of us, no other workers.  We’ve got celery, celeriac, radicchio, arugula, potatoes, radishes, leeks, popcorn, tomatoes, basil, squash and eggplant, and a few watermelon, growing here in this patch.  And a few flowers. We’ve planted so many plants, so many rows.  After the big rains and the sudden heat, there was a lot of fast growth.  So rewarding! Part of our system is to mulch heavily when we can, shown in the photo above.  Saves time on weed control later, improves the soil, and holds in the moisture!  I do a lot of interplanting too.  Slower-growing vegetables like celery, leeks, onions, broccoli, are interplanted with fast growing ones - lettuce, radishes, arugula, spinach.  We get two or three times the crops from the same space of ground, and reduce the areas where weeds can grow too.

The Westside Farmers Market is in full swing now.  Yesterday was the third week, and we were lucky with the weather, dodging rainstorms, and having a great day.  We love this little market!  Come and find us there on Thursdays from 3-7pm.

This week for market we harvested lots of wonderful french breakfast radishes…….and greens………

and rhubarb……..

and garlic scapes!

Much as I’d like to see some sunshine, this gentle rain is so beautiful.  Pretty enough to just snap some quick photos in the rain…..

Perhaps after a couple of greens-toastingly hot springs, this can be the year for cabbage, lettuce, peas, and and the cooler crops.  Here are some shallots that have naturally become interplanted with volunteer chervil which seems to be working out well for them.  I can’t get enough of the spring colors…..

Peas and lettuce are thriving.  The heirloom deer’s tongue lettuce is one of my favorites - reliable, crisp, delicious, early, and gorgeous, with its funny tendency to spiral…….

The old Welsummer Rooster and a few of his hens go for a stroll in the light misty rain….

Lilacs bend to the ground under the weight of their water-laden blossoms…. …happy beautiful Spring!

It’s a great irony of being a blogging farmer, that when there is the most going on to write about, there is simply no time to write.  The days are growing long enough that I’m frequently working outside until 9pm.  Work is intense enough that it’s hard to carry a camera to document it.  It is such a race to get the little plants and seeds into the ground at good times - at the right time for their planting, before a good rain, before the days get too long…so much to think about and plan for.

And it changes so quickly; in the other job as a midwife, I went to three births last week and at the end of the busy time spent away, I realized the trees had leaves!  When did that happen?  So much has changed in three weeks…

Kitchen garden less than a month ago...

Kitchen garden yesterday.

Yesterday was a perfect planting day.  Cool but comfortable temperature, cloudy threatening to rain but holding off.  It was fabulous, and we really worked.  44 celeriac, 48 celery, 200 leeks, 80-ish spinach, 40 radicchio, onions I didn’t count, 2 kinds of potatoes, and long rows of radish, beet, chard, arugula, and other greens - all joined the hundreds already in the ground.  Weeded everything, moved tomatoes and peppers through hardening off rotations, mowed, rototilled, mulched, helped family with other planting projects.  It’s odd to mention numbers, as I know this is nothing compared to big farms and seriously rocking CSAs.   It’s new to me to even count - I don’t usually, but yesterday I was getting curious about the numbers.  We have just the two of us working this farm, around two other jobs, and we’ll take to market whatever we end up having.

We are harvesting enormous amounts of gorgeous salad greens. Two meals out of the day are usually a European-bistro-style greens mix with egg and good dressing to top it.  After a long winter, there is nothing so satisfying as a strong salad mix of dandelion, spinach, baby kale, and young lettuce leaves, with a green-garlic and anchovy vinaigrette and an egg on top.  We celebrated the first few spears of asparagus on this salad, sprinkled with chives!