Food security means food diversity

In my daily review of the articles at Climate Progress one paragraph in one article stood out from the others:

In Latin America and the Caribbean, these heat extremes and changing rain patterns could lead to a 70 percent fall in soybean crop yields and up to 50 percent for wheat by 2050 without further adaption efforts. In the Caribbean, tropical storms and sea level rise will impact everything from tourism to security.

The immediate solution to the predicted problem is "don't depend on 4 crops for 80% of your calories".  The human population of the planet has become far too dependent on corn, wheat, soy, and rice.  Each one has major problems in store if the predictions of the climate scientists prove right.  Much of the rice crop is grown on land not far enough above the high tide line; a couple feet of sea level rise is going to take out a lot of rice acreage.  Although corn is a warm weather plant, it can easily get too warm and too dry and then that crop will fail as well.  Wheat has been grown on land in dry areas, just a little bit drier, and down go the wheat yields.

Much of the effort of the Green Revolution was to improve these crops to be able to solve the problem of world hunger.  It was a great success of the 20th century, but it may have set humanity up for a catastrophic fall in the 21st.  We need to be diversifying our food sources and learning how to grow new crops in new places.  For example, potatoes in Greenland.  A couple of decades ago, there wasn't enough of a growing season in Greenland to make a potato crop, but climate change has changed that.  The potato harvest in 2012 was 100 tons, double that of 2008.

My own project in this area is to grow sorghum.  This spring I got a 7 gram packet of sorghum seed, enough to plant three 40' rows.  I don't have an exact number for the yield, but it was a few pounds, at least 700 grams, of that I am sure.  Sorghum is not like corn, where you have one harvest at the end of the season and can then weigh the crop.  I cut my first sorghum heads in August, and they continued to send up new seed heads until the first frost in November.  The choice seed heads get saved for grain sorghum uses and what doesn't pass muster becomes chicken feed.  I thought about cutting the stalks and trying to extract juice for making syrup, but for that you need to have a large amount of stalks to get a small amount of syrup.  It would have been too much work for me to come up with a pint of syrup.  But all those sorghum stalks didn't go to waste -- they make great guinea pig fodder.  Dry them and shred them up with the lawn mower and the pigs can snack on them all winter.

I got a bag of jowar flour -- milled sorghum -- at the Indian grocery store and have been experimenting with it in the kitchen.  It makes good tasting pancakes and crepes, but I haven't tried using it in any bread recipes.  If I had to subsist on a large sack of grain sorghum, I think it would be eminently possible given all the tortillas, crepes, pancakes, and rotis you could make with it, let alone cooking it up whole as a rice substitute.

The closest most Americans get to sorghum grain is when they buy a sack of birdseed to stock the bird feeder.  I think this may change in the coming years, especially since sorghum will succeed in producing a crop where corn will fail.   

Not all nitrogen is the same

I came across this excellent video of how to use a refractometer in the garden, and it confirms what I have been finding out in the garden without the use of any scientific instruments. 

First is that ammonia nitrogen is far better for plants than nitrate nitrogen.  He suggests that the ammonia to nitrate ratio in fertilizers should be in a ratio of at least 3 to 1, which means that if you are going to apply one measure of ammonium nitrate, you had better add to it two measures of straight ammonia.  But my practice has been to cut out the nitrate altogether.  I use only manure, manure tea, or urine in my fertilizers.  I apply them as root drenches and as foliar feeds, and that along with copious amounts of wood chip mulch is all that I need to keep my plants green and healthy.  Well, they look healthy, but I won't know if I have achieved that 12 degrees Brix level that he refers to until I get a refractometer and start juicing up some leaves. 

I can understand why reduced nitrogen (ammoniacal) is better for plants than oxidized nitrogen (as nitrate): plants, just like us humans, need anti-oxidants to stay healthy.  Proteins, the building blocks of life, all contain nitrogen in reduced form, so the nitrogen has to enter the anabolic process as ammonia, and if it shows up as nitrate, well, that adds another step (reduction) before it can be utilized. 

Nitrate seems like it should go in the same class as other strong oxidizing agents, such as bleach and peroxide -- a little goes a long way.  While organisms, plants included, use such strong oxidizing agents to defend themselves from bacterial invaders,  it is probably best to generate them in situ at the site of an infection, than it is to be drenched in them.  If there is no infection for the nitrate to kill by oxidizing, it is going to put that oxidizing potential to work in ways that stress the plant.

Another reason to prefer ammonia over nitrate is that nitrate is very soluble, meaning that it can easily leach from a field after a heavy rain, while ammonia will chelate with any metal ion it can find in the soil.  Much better to add nitrogen to soil in the reduced form, where it will stay until it is needed (and if need be, get oxidized to nitrate in the process), than to add it as nitrate and hope it won't wash off or burn anything while it is waiting to get taken up.

I'm glad he mentioned boron at the end.  I'm still working on the pound of boric acid I bought four years ago, that's how little it takes to keep the garden happy.  One gram in a 5 gallon bucket of compost tea is plenty to keep the boron levels where they need to be.  I'm glad that plants can tolerate this element in its oxidized form well; I can't imagine what it would be like trying to apply reduced forms of boron like diborane.  That would be some bizarro science fiction type world indeed!

Hugelkultur coming around

I first got interested in hugelkultur in January of 2013 and immediately set about installing them in my garden.  You can do that in Georgia, the soil temperature in January dips briefly into the 40s, and there are all sorts of winter vegetables that can be planted while winter rages further north. I dug down to the bed of kaolin underlying my garden, about 8 inches or so, and piled up lots of oak, pine, and wood chips as the organic matter to build up the hugel (German for 'mound'), and then replaced the topsoil. 

I decided this would be a mirepoix hugel, taking the German gardening technique to raise the vegetables I would need for that French base of cooking, mirepoix, which is onions, carrots, and celery.  If a recipe calls for a mirepoix, all I need to is take the garden scissors to the hugel and collect what I need to get cooking. 

The first year was a bit hit-or-miss as the organic matter began to rot and turn into soil.  The Egyptian walking onions did great; they were on the sunny south slope of the hugel, close to grade, so they were able to take off right away.  The celeriac and carrots planted on top were a different story.  Not knowing what to expect, I did not water the hugel much (what I had read said that it shouldn't be necessary, that the rotting vegetation should hold adequate moisture) and I got less than spectacular results with the seeds planted on top.

In the fall of 2013, I planted some salsify on top as well, and these did quite well, better than any of the carrots or celeriac.  I harvested many salsify buds this April, about the same time as I harvested asparagus, and I was able to cook them in the same way as asparagus.  In early summer, the salsify put out a prodigious amount of seed, so much so that I knew I would have many volunteers this fall and I would not have to seed it.  So how does it look now, 22 months into this on-going experiment? Take a look:

This is taken from the north side of the hugel looking to the south.  The Egyptian walking onions are at top center, at the left is a clump of lemon balm, the spoons to the right are bok choi, the tall spiky plants on the right are leeks, and the low rosettes in front are creasy greens.  There are two celeriac in this hugel, and they were volunteers from last year's crop that went to seed.  Apparently the celeriac likes the cool north side of the hugel, because none volunteered on the south slope.  The carrots and cilantro are a little hard to pick out as they are hiding amongst all the other greenery.  Finally out of view on the opposite slope of the right hand side are kale and cabbage seedlings that I transplanted. 

The trench for this hugel was 30" by 8', and the top of the hugel is about 15" above the grade of the lawn.  Before this hugel went in, this was just lawn on my southwest property line, quite compacted and not really hospitable to the centipede grass that was trying to colonize it. Having the hugel has certainly increased the food security outside my back door. 

Egyptian walking onions provide scallion type onions for about 10 months of the year, the other two months they put their effort into making topsets.  The creasy greens, salsify, and carrots have all sprouted from the seed set last spring, and look like they are going to be prodigious producers through the coming winter.  I may have to adjust my mirepoix recipe to use less carrot and more salsify as the salsify volunteers are outnumbering the carrot volunteers by a good margin.

I think this hugel has matured to the point that I want it, and now the challenge will be to keep it mulched so that it continues to be as productive as it is now.  I am using a mix of one part biochar to three parts wood chips for my mulching mixture, and any time that I do any harvesting or weeding, I toss down handfuls of mulch mixture.  Yes, there are weeds, there is a good bit of oxalis scattered in there, but since it is also an edible it is welcome.  If I get any dandelions, prickly lettuce or other interlopers, when I notice them, I can pull them and toss them in for chicken salad. Er, let me say that another way: I can toss them in the chicken coop so the girls can have some salad. 

Oh, and one last thing.  This hugelkultur is home to a toad that lives in a hollow of one of the logs that comes up to the surface. Can you see him peeking out?

Confused vegans

Poor, confused vegans.  They think that they have the solution to climate change, if they could only convince everyone to adopt their ascetic dietary choices.  It is true, factory farming of meat uses lots of fossil fuel inputs.  But they miss the boat when they emphasize "of meat" instead of the "factory farming" part.  The eggs I collect from my backyard chickens require less fossil fuel input than the factory farmed broccoli that is trucked from California to their local vegan-friendly grocer.  Their broccoli requires fossil fuel in the form of fertilizer, tractor passes, getting laborers to and from the field, trucks to haul it to warehouses and distribution centers, and refrigeration equipment to keep it fresh.  My chickens, on the other hand, require no fossil fuel inputs; they eat what grows in the garden and provide me with a continuous source of protein and vitamins that are missing from the vegan diet. 

As the model of factory farming becomes increasingly untenable, what with Peak Oil raising farming costs, Peak Phosphorus, climate change, weeds becoming herbicide resistant and insect pests becoming insecticide resistant, the crystal ball gazers that come to the conclusion that it is time to ditch factory farming for sustainable permaculture are much more on target than well-meaning vegans.  Vegans who want to eat foods that are out-of-season and shipped in from the other hemisphere, or eat grains and soy products that are factory farmed a couple thousand miles away are also part of the problem, albeit to a smaller degree than feedlot carnivores. 

Instead of harping on the meat-eating habits of others, people that are concerned about climate change should be preparing to get all of their food locally.  Subsistence farmers are the ones that have the lightest carbon footprint, even if they eat poultry they raise themselves, milk from their own goats, and fish from the local pond.  Chickens, goats, and fish can turn biomass that is unfit for human consumption into valuable protein and necessary vitamins, like B12.  Chickens can eat slugs, and they enjoy them, while slugs can be reservoirs of dangerous protozoan infections if a human were to eat one.  Goats can chow down on poison ivy and detoxify a long list of plants that are better avoided by humans. 

If it sounds like I am advocating a return to the farming household of yesteryear, with a few animals that are raised for household consumption, that is exactly what I am advocating.  The population of Peru is about 30 million, and they raise (and eat) about 85 million guinea pigs a year -- which works out to just shy of 3 cuy consumed per capita. This is sustainable meat, raised on grass and forbs that would otherwise not make it into the human food chain, and no fossil fuels are required to produce it.

The next time a vegan lobbies you to give up meat and gag down an imitation yogurt made from soy juice, politely decline and think about local meats that you could produce. 

Perennial broccoli??

How is it that American palates have been refined to demand the most transient of a plant's lifecycle?  Large, tight heads of broccoli with unopened blossoms; large clumps of cauliflower with snow white curds; tomatoes at the perfect stage of ripeness; much energy goes into getting these from farm to market at just the right stage, and if one small flaw is discovered, the trip continues on to the landfill.  If you are raising these in your garden, you can't be so fussy about appearances, if it's healthy, nutritious, and tasty, you need to be eating it.  So you look up recipes for what to do with green tomatoes and learn that careful clipping with garden scissors can get a continual harvest from brassicas, not the one-shot that commercial agriculture has marketed to us. 

I have come across an excellent source for Italian vegetable seeds: Pagano Seeds.  The Italians have a much broader definition of what makes for acceptable broccoli.  The yellowish fractal heads of Romanesco broccoli, the cut again and again florets of a raab type broccoli, and the leafy stalks of the Spigariello variety.  I've had some of the latter growing in the garden, and it has yet to produce a flower head.  It has taken the Georgia summer heat in stride, but the plant just gets bigger and bigger, with more leaves, but no blossoms.  I suppose it is remaining true to its biennial character and will form heads and go to seed next spring. In the meanwhile, I am left with how to use it over the winter. 

I tried cutting small branches and chopping up the leaves, stems and all, for the soup pot.  The only problem with this is that the stems are quite tough.  A 1/4" diameter spigariello stem requires a lot more chewing than a 2" diameter stem of store-bought broccoli.  I think I will put these stems in the same category as collard ribs: something to chop up fine and feed to the chickens.  But the leaves are a keeper, if you want some broccoli flavor to add to soups or other dishes.  Just chiffonade them up and toss them in. I can see where these could be part of a food-security kitchen garden. 

Where to start building food security?

For those of us not raised on a farm (which is the vast majority of Americans), it can be daunting to think of where to start when remaking our homes into the source of our food.  You may have had a few vegetable growing experiences, the taste of a tomato fresh from the garden, or an apple or an orange right off the tree, but a few fruits here and there don't add up to much of a meal.  To get some real nutritional value out of your plot of land, you are going to have to have something growing that you can count on day in and day out. 

Which is why I am going to start in an unusual place -- those ingredients that keep cropping up over and over, like onions and peppers and herbs like parsley and thyme.  Maybe add carrots and celery to the list as well.  This combination of a few vegetables and herbs is the starting point in many cuisines.  In French cuisine, a mirepoix is some celery, carrot, and onion, chopped up and sauteed.  It is a start for soups, stews, casseroles, you name it.  If you have these growing in your garden, you can always at least get dinner started, then add whatever else you have on hand. 

Onions are a must have for the food security garden -- specifically the Egyptian walking onion variety.  Bulbing onions are too much work, you have to harvest them in the summer and then dry them and store them, why not just keep a stand of Egyptian walking onions going and clip them as needed?  They are fairly winter hardy, so unless you are in the frozen northland, a bed of them could keep you going through the winter.  The only time I have found them lacking is in early summer, when they are putting all their energy into making new topsets, most of which are too small to cook with.

Peppers are perennial plants, although most American gardeners think of them as an annual.  When I lived in coastal California (where it never freezes), I had a hedge of hot peppers outside the kitchen door.  Jalapenos, tabasco, serrano, and pequin at the ready any time they were needed.  With a little planning and preparation, you can lift your pepper plants out of the garden with winter approaching and keep them going if you have a sunny indoor location.

Carrots and celery are biennials, so they can stay in the ground and be harvested as needed.  I prefer the European celeriac to the American fondness for stalk celery; it is less fussy in the garden and you can clip the small stalks as needed while you are waiting for the root to grow to harvesting size.  Carrots can go anywhere in the garden.  They are good companions for every other plant, although there are some things that will cause them to come up stunted.  Parsley, if you get the kind that makes a carrot-like root is another biennial that can wait in the ground until needed. 

Think about the vegetables that you like to have on hand all the time.  What's sitting in your freezer?  A sack of broccoli and carrots that you put into stir-fries, casseroles, the crock-pot?  How difficult would it be to have those vegetables growing in the garden, ready to harvest any time?  For true food security, you have to quit thinking in terms of a big harvest and look at your garden space as one big pantry. 

What is food security?

I've been writing this blog for a while, but I've never really given a definition to  "food security".  I suppose it means different things to different people, but whatever it is, it's the opposite of being food insecure.  Agencies that track hunger try to monitor food insecurity, which they define as not having enough food today, or not having enough food to last out the week or the month.  Along that line, I will tentatively define food security as having available foods on hand to be able to cook up a meal.  Maybe not if a dozen guests drop in unannounced, but enough for the members of the household for the foreseeable future. 

And how do you ensure that there is enough food on hand?  I can think of two alternatives: (1) the warehouse solution, where your pantry is well stocked with grains, beans, pasta, canned goods, etc., or (2) the food forest solution, where everything growing around your residence is an edible plant of one type or another.  The Mormons are great boosters of the former solution, and recommend that each Mormon household have a year's worth of provisions in the pantry.  While I like to have a well-stocked cupboard, if it is stocked by trips to Costco or Sam's Club, it is not as sustainable as the latter solution, having food for the gathering right outside the door. 

If you want to evaluate your food security, you need to do more than to just count up the boxes of mac'n'cheese and packages of ramen noodles in the pantry.  You need to take stock of all the edible plants that are within foraging distance.  I've made a spreadsheet where I have taken account of all the edible plant species that I have access to.  At last count, I was up to 126 species.  Some are perennial crops I grow (figs, apples, strawberries), some are annuals (cilantro, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers), some are weeds that are naturalized here (henbit, dock, dandelions, chanca piedra), and some I don't even grow on my property. 

I have no kudzu, but there are plenty of places I can go and cut it.  I've been feeding it to the chickens and guinea pigs for a while, but today was the first time I actually tasted it.  With the rain we have been having, there were some nice, big, young leaves, and I had to satisfy my curiosity -- why is it the guinea pigs' favorite food?  It tastes like spinach, maybe a little blander.  I suppose you could cook it as you would any leafy green, but it is going to need something to give it some flavor.  The bottom line?  No one in the South should be food insecure, not with all the kudzu we have.  I know that Japanese cuisine makes use of starch obtained from the root of the kudzu, but I have not seen much in the way of recipes for the leaves.  Perhaps I should research this.