This is part six of a six-part series on seed starting. Part one can be read here. Part two is here. Part three is here. Part four is here. Part five is here.

While the forecast calls for a brief return to a wintery chill the next few days, the calendar is progressing headlong into spring, and the earliest daffodils–along with the just-unfurling green buds on the dreaded and omnipresent multiflora rose–are here. Soon, the earth will warm, and your seedlings will eagerly sink their bound roots into the big, living universe of your own garden’s soil.

TRANSPLANTING
Transplanting is an intuitive and extremely satisfying garden activity. Before transplanting, your bed is empty and shapeless; after transplanting, your garden comes alive with the rhythm and structure created by the rows, grids, circles, and freeform shapes your new transplants trace.

Most of us began our garden journey with an act of transplanting, usually a few tomato or basil or lettuce seedlings purchased from a garden center. And while transplanting is quite straightforward, there are definitely some things to keep in mind for the best results. Here are five thoughts.

1. Only transplant properly hardened off seedlings. Hardening off seedlings–the process of gradually exposing them to longer and longer periods of unprotected, outdoor conditions (starting with about two hours per day, working up to ten or twelve over several days)–is essential to ensure the survival of seedlings grown indoors. There’s no room for fudging here–especially with warm-weather crops such as peppers, eggplants, melons, and tomatoes. If you grew it indoors, it must adjust gradually to outdoor conditions. If you raise your seedlings in a cold frame, full hardening off is not necessary–just set your trays outside your cold frame for a day before transplanting.
2. Transplant only on cloudy days or on late afternoons of sunny days. The act of transplanting is, by nature, stressful on the seedling. Bright, hot sun and dessicating winds amplify the shock: the poor seedling spends its limited resources in a struggle for water and purchase in the soil, rather than just settling in. Young seedlings are much happier when they are given a cool, moist, dark breather before facing their first day in a whole new environment.
3. Prepare your bed thoroughly first. Incorporate compost and soil amendments before transplanting. It’s best if the seedling can have at least a few days without much disturbance to its root system. It also needs a good, fertile environment in which to sink its roots, and few weeds to out-compete it. Work to provide these conditions before putting the seedling in the ground. Even if the seedling is getting root-bound, even if the calendar says its time to transplant, wait: the work of correcting poorly prepared soil is far more painful than exerting a little patience beforehand.
4. Transplant gently. Once all the above conditions have been met, cut into the surface of your soil with a trowel or hand-held hoe to create a space for your seedling. Eject your seedling carefully from its container, and then set it into the space you’ve made. Except for tomatoes, nearly all vegetables should be transplanted so that the level of the soil surrounding the seedling is even with the level of the garden soil (tomatoes can be sunk more deeply–all the little hairs on the stem grow into roots). With your hands, push the surrounding soil towards the seedling to “seal it in”; pat the soil down so that the seedling is held in place firmly, as vertically as you can get it. Water in with a gentle setting on your hose (longer than you think–be sure that you do more than just a surface watering), and you’re done!
5. Consider the cutworm. If you’re gardening a new plot–and often if you’re not–you may face the dreaded cutworm, a small crawly creature that loves to fell young seedlings. It does its thing by forming a circle fully around the stem of a seedling and then chomping down. You’ll instantly recognize the damage–it really does look like a felled tree. It mainly affects tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants, but it occasionally visits the stemmy bottoms of brassicas, too. To prevent this heartbreaker from ruining your day, put two toothpicks alongside and touching the stems of your transplants, one on each side of the stem. Do this at transplant time. The cutworm won’t be able to fully encircle the seedling and will give up. (Rarely do cutworms venture higher than the height of an average toothpick.)

That’s pretty much it! A few days after transplanting, your seedling should be well rooted, and cultivation with a hoe can take place.

TROUBLESHOOTING

Growing a garden is an invitation for trouble: thousands of other beings–from deer and woodchucks to bacteria and fungi–will be eyeing your vegetables just as hungrily as you are. While a good fence will keep the larger foes from your crops, the smaller ones are usually held at bay by the plant’s own defense systems. The key is providing the conditions that allow the plant to be as strong and resilient as possible.

Below is a list of common troubles seen in garden plants during their early years, along with tips on keeping your seedlings strong, healthy, and resilient.

1. Damping Off. Damping off is probably the single most common ailment seen in seedlings grown indoors. It is a fungal affliction in which the young seedling’s stem withers at soil level; the seedling topples over and usually dies. The conditions that cause damping off are a combination of moisture and poor air circulation and moderate temperatures. The key to avoiding damping off is to refrain from overwatering–let the surface of the soil dry out a bit before each watering. It also helps to improve air flow, either with a fan or by moving your trays from a stuffy room to one that experiences greater air exchange. Some crops are notorious for damping off problems even when near-optimal conditions are provided: onions seem to be the most susceptible. (We lose some to damping off nearly every year.) Consider a damped off seedling or two to be a rite of passage–and then act quickly to improve conditions.
2. Leaves turning purple. This condition arises in April and later, mainly, when your young seedlings have exhausted the available phosphorus in their potting soil. Organic phosphorus is released slowly, and only limited amounts are available in mixes that are designed for seedlings. If your seedlings are hanging out for too long in their trays without being transplanted, you will likely see their leaves begin to turn purpleish. Luckily, nearly all seedlings will recover from this state when transplanted to a healthy, well-composted garden soil; they may shed a leaf or two, but they’ll probably do fine in the end.
3. Yellow leaves/failure to thrive. Yellowing leaves are usually a symptom of nitrogen deficiency, which is usually only a problem in a potting soil that is not fully amended with compost and organic amendments such as seedmeals. Be sure that if you are using a sterile soilless mix that it either comes with fertilizer included or you are providing some yourself–or, better yet, choose an organic, compost-based mix from the start. But do be aware that any potting soil has limited resources to share with a seedling; keeping a seedling in a tray for too long will allow the plant to suck all the nutrition from the soil. Staying on top of transplanting will prevent such conditions.
4. Tall, spindly seedlings. Thin, stretched out, pale seedlings are called “leggy.” The condition arises from two causes: inadequate light and an overcrowded tray. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: a sunny windowsill is usually not bright enough to grow good seedlings. Most leggy seedlings are grown on such a windowsill. Get a shop light with fluorescent bulbs or build a cold frame–you’ll be amazed at how legginess goes away completely. If you believe your light is sufficient, examine the density of your seedlings: once the leaves of neighboring seedlings actually begin to touch each other, a race for light and air begins that makes the seedlings grow taller without filling out horizontally at the same time. If this is the case, either transplant immediately (if the timing is right for the variety) or pot up your seedlings to larger containers.

And with that, this series on seed-starting comes to an end. There is much more that could be written–growing food is an incredibly complex (and yet straightforward!) endeavor about which I could talk or write almost indefinitely. However, there are orders to ship and seeds to sow here, soil to prepare and a fence to mend. Spring is here, and the window of opportunity for so many great garden efforts is opening. Dive in, and good luck!

Originally published on the Hudson Valley Seed Library blog

With the beautiful, warm weather we’ve been having, many gardens are ready for their first direct sown seeds: those seeds that do perfectly well when planted directly in garden soil.

TEN TIPS FOR DIRECT SOWING

1. Begin in the late winter or early spring–but not until the soil is ready. Many cool-weather crops, such as spinach, peas, arugula, and hardy salad greens, benefit from being sown as early as possible. Germination may take a bit longer than under warmer conditions, but they’ll be off and running early, which means the plant has the maximum amount of time to grow before summer heat sets in. However, it’s important to wait to sow until the soil has recovered from the winter freeze-up and has returned to a friable, arable state. You’re looking for the top several inches to be dry and crumbly enough that the soil doesn’t stick as you run a tool across the surface but instead falls away in small chunks or crumbles. Clay soils can sometimes take 1-2 weeks longer than sandy soils to become planting-ready. As you continue to add organic matter to your soil over the years, it will become lighter and lighter and more easily worked at the start of the season.
2. Do a thorough, pre-emptive weeding. Direct sown crops produce tiny seedlings that need careful attention to flourish. Among their greatest needs is to be free from crowding by weeds. This is easily accomplished in the greenhouse, where seedlings can be started in a weed-free potting soil. But when direct sowing crops, gardeners must pay careful attention to weeds during the seedling’s early days. Get a head start by doing a thorough, pre-emptive weeding before sowing. Pay special attention to stolon-rooted grasses and other perennial weeds, as it will later become nearly impossible to remove these aggressive growers without disrupting tender young seedlings. If gardening in a new or neglected patch, consider sheet mulching or tilling and raking multiple times to kill lurking weeds.
3. Amend the soil thoroughly. It’s much easier to create a fertile bed for your plants before planting seeds than after they have emerged. An unplanted bed can quickly be thoroughly hoed and raked multiple times to incorporate a big pile of compost; trying to do such a thorough job once the seedlings are up is nearly impossible. So don’t jump the gun: add compost, lime, soybean or alfalfa meal, rock phosphate, kelp, or any complete organic fertilizer before planting. Many plants benefit from later side-dressings as well, but they won’t make up for the first-round big boost to initial fertility accomplished by thoroughly incorporating amendments.
4. Create furrows of the proper depth. As I mentioned a couple posts ago, most seeds germinate and take root best when sowed at a depth of approximately 2-3 times their width. (For mid-summer direct sowings, you can increase this a bit if it’s dry and hot, as the moisture remains lower in the soil.) Figure out the proper spacing for the variety you are planting, then use a stick, a tool handle, or a piece of lumber to press clean furrows into a well-prepared (and therefore loose and friable) garden bed. Space these furrows apart from each other at the spacing recommended for the variety you are sowing. Press the implement into the soil until it reaches the proper depth: for small seeds like arugula and lettuce, this will be an extremely shallow furrow (1/4″ or so), while for beans or peas the furrow will be a good 3/4″ to 1″ deep.
5. Plan for thinnings when possible. Before actually sowing seed, consider if the crop you are sowing can be harvested young for table use. If so, consider sowing more thickly than the plants ultimately need to be spaced in order to harvest tender young thinnings early. This works well for any crop harvested for their leaves, such as spinach, lettuce, arugula, parsley, cilantro, and Asian Greens. Just remember to thin the plants promptly at the 3-4″ tall stage so that the plants you are growing for full maturity are not stressed by overcrowding as they grow.
6. Sow the seed. Once you’ve done all of the above, sowing the seed is easy! Depending on the seed size, either sprinkle or drop the seed at regular spacing into the bottom of your furrow. Don’t be too stingy with the seed–but don’t be too loose, either. Ideally you’d like an evenly spaced succession of seeds in the furrow at a spacing that is closer than recommended (if thinning) or just about what is recommended (if not thinning). It’s best to oversow certain crops–most notably spinach–to make up for the naturally low germination rates.
7. Keep it firm! One mistake often made by new gardeners is to try to keep the soil around the seeds extremely loose. While in general a loose soil is a sign of healthy tilth, most seeds germinate best when they have somewhat firm soil surrounding them. The reason is that firm soil does a better job of pulling moisture from below and transmitting it to the seed, while loose soil dries out quickly under the sun’s rays. So, once you’ve sown your seeds in the furrow, brush soil on top of them and press the soil–either with your open palms or with the flat side of a furrow-making stick–so that it is snug. This isn’t a strength test: save your muscles for turning compost. Just a gentle “tucking in” is all it takes to keep the seeds in a good, well-wrapped state for healthiest germination.
8. Water in, then relax. Always water in your seeds after planting, and continue watering regularly until you see seedling emergence. Make your waterings thorough in order to saturate the soil. Then–unless you have extraordinarily sandy soil–don’t water again for 48 hours. Seeds need a combination of moisture and warmth to germinate, and especially during the first half of spring the heat can be in short supply. Watering too freuqently keeps the soil even cooler, so restrain yourself. It can be difficult when you’re desperate to see a little green appear, but it is the wisest course of action and will hasten germination.
9. Weed and thin promptly during first month. While weeds can inhibit the growth and productivity of all plants, tiny seedlings can be stopped completely in their tracks by weed competition. If you know you’re a lazy weeder, make a resolution with yourself to invest all your weeding energy up front. Let the ripening peppers and tomatoes and squash be weed-choked, but for goodness’ sake keep your young spinach, peas, and beets clear of lambsquarter, spiky amaranth, and horse nettle. A sharp hoe can get the job done quickly, while a thick layer of mulch spread open to allow seedling emergence can keep weeds smothered. However you do it, get it done: a weed-strewn patch will seriously slow down direct-sown seedlings.
10. Consider a seeder to help if sowing on a larger scale. If you’re making the transition from having a small garden to growing all the vegetables you need, you may want to consider a seeder to make direct sowing operations fast and easy. Your bed needs to be loose and very friable for the seeder to operate smoothly, but once you’ve created these conditions it will seriously speed up your sowing time. Popular models are the Earthway seeder and the drool-worthy (and pricey) six-row seeder available from Johnny’s Seeds.

Enjoy the weather, folks! Monitor your soil, and as soon as it’s ready, let spring begin!

Originally published on the Hudson Valley Seed Library blog

This is part four of a six-part series on seed starting. Part one can be read here. Part two is here. Part three is here.

Once your schedule and protected space are set up, it’s time to actually do the deed: stick seeds in dirt, get ‘em wet, and watch ‘em grow. It’s surprisingly easy to succumb to anxiety when the moment arrives: am I burying the seed deeply enough? Too deeply? Is the soil wet enough? Too wet? Did I plant too many tomatoes? Too few? Here are some simple steps to demystify the process.

Step One: RELAX. Take some deep breaths. Until about 100 years ago, nearly every person on the planet came to this moment many times each year. Things often went wrong: for them as they surely will for you. And yet, your presence on the earth today is proof that even when things were done imperfectly they still often worked out. So, approach the task of seed sowing with openness and a sense of adventure: no matter what happens, you’re about to learn a lot about plants, about the natural world, and about your own attitude (I know: not exactly how you wanted to spend your free time, this last.)

Step Two: CHOOSE A METHOD AND STICK WITH IT FOR A WHILE. There are countless media and containers–and labels and watering cans and gardening gloves–to consider for sowing time. You can start with a sterile soil-less mix made almost entirely of peat moss and vermiculite, or one full of compost and rich microbial activity (I prefer the latter). You can start with plastic trays and cells; with tiny cow-manure compost pots; with leftover mini yogurt containers (with drainage holes punched in the bottom–don’t forget!); or with no containers at all when using soil blocks (each has its pros and cons, but we use soil blocks ourselves for most seed-starting). You can place seeds into soil with a tiny little plastic seed dispenser thingy (it looks like a giant comma with a clear lid), an electric vibrating seed dropper (yikes!), a moistened end of a toothpick, or your pinched fingers (I prefer toothpicks and fingers). The options are seemingly endless.

I suggest, however, that you pick one method and stick with it for a season or two until you’ve mastered it, figured out what you like and dislike about it, and are able to make a conscious decision to try out a different approach. In nearly all cases, problems at the seedling stage are less related to containers, soil media, or sowing method than they are to the conditions in which you are growing the plants (see last week’s post for details on this).

If it’s your first year with a garden, the easiest route is to head to a garden center and pick up one of their seed-starting kits and a bag of organic potting soil specifically labeled for seed starting. The kits are fairly inexpensive and include all you need for successful growing of a small quantity of plants; the organic mix will get your seed off and running with plenty of nutritious compost available to feed the young plants. You’ll probably find that these kits don’t make sense as you transition to a larger garden or more encompassing suite of crops, and at that time I would encourage a bit of googling to research seed-starting methods used by small farms and avid gardeners. (For those looking for this information right now, here are some links to get you started: pottingblocks.com, newspaper seed-starting containers, seed-starting rays and peat pellets, and lots more. Don’t drown in the information! No single method is perfect!)

No matter which system you choose, do be sure to consider that seedlings require fertile soil: if you start with a soilless mix, transplant the young’uns into good, well-composted soil quickly or provide a liquid organic fertilizer until transplant time. (This added consideration is why I prefer a potting soil with compost; McEnroe Farms makes a great one that is available at garden centers throughout the Hudson Valley.)

Step Three: SOW. Once you’ve picked your set-up and gathered materials, begin. Nearly all common vegetable and flower seeds are best sown at a depth that is approximately two to three times their diameter. It’s pretty easy to eyeball this, and once you get the hang of it you’ll do it intuitively. What it means is that tiny seeds, such as those for carrot, lettuce, basil, and most herbs, need only be covered by one-eighth to one-quarter of an inch of soil–or even just a dusting. Brassicas need one-quarter inch to three-eighths inch depending on the seed size. Beans need a good one-half to three-quarters of an inch. And so on. The drier the conditions, the deeper you should plant, as seeds germinate best when they occupy the magical spot where the soil remains fairly moist but oxygen from above ground is able to reach them. When the ground is dry, the moist layer is lower and the oxygen travels easily through the dry layer on top; wet conditions call for the opposite treatment. Once the seeds are in place, water them in: give them a nice good drink to allow the seed coats to soften and the process of germination to begin. (Note that if the mix you begin with is totally dry it will need to be watered before sowing, as a perfectly dry soil-less mix will often not moisten easily once in trays–seeds sown into these conditions will often float off once watered.)

Step Four: OVERSOW. It is all too easy for something to go wrong during the seedling stage. An emergency that takes you unexpectedly away from the house and your seedlings to wither; a power outage that zaps your grow light for several days; a curious cat that mistakes your trays for a litter box: all can spell trouble. The best insurance against things going wrong is to sow many more seeds than you actually need. I learned this lesson the hard way early on, and it’s saved me many times over the past few years.

One important method of oversowing is to re-sow everything (or nearly everything) sown on one date a second time two or three weeks later. This may not work for those with tight space restrictions–it’s even hard for us sometimes–but I can report that on many occasions the later plantings have been a happy blessing. One summer a late-sown round of tomatoes staved off an early blight beautifully (young plants are often able to repel disease more easily than fully mature plants), while another spring our second-round of young celeriac seedlings replaced some that perished when we failed to vent a cold frame on a lazy sunny day. Troubles come, and it’s wise to anticipate them. (I told you gardening is a learning adventure.)

The hard part is at transplant time, when, if all actually goes well, you’ll have plenty of extra seedlings that can’t make it into the limited space of your garden. Give ‘em to friends or family, or sell ‘em on craigslist. There’s always demand at transplant time for veggies that folks didn’t start from seed themselves.

Step Five: PROVIDE WARMTH AND MOISTURE. I’ve taken a slightly laissez-faire attitude here in the past: I never cover sown seeds with plastic wrap or anything like that. I do keep them watered if it looks like they are drying out. And I do provide warmth. The warmth is very important: cool pepper seeds can take weeks to germinate, while those kept above 80 degrees will germinated within about five days, usually. See this link for a great summary of the ideal germination temps for different vegetable types.

Achieving these temps can be tricky in a wintery home, but I’ll soon be posting a couple of DIY-themed addenda to this series with more details on this step: one on building the cold frame pictured in last week’s post, and one on tricking out an old fridge as a germination chamber (an idea I’ve swiped from many wise farmers, including Jay and Polly and Erin and Sam at Four Winds Farm / Second Wind CSA and Linda-Brook at Back to Basics).

Step Six: GET RID OF WARMTH AND MOISTURE. Ack! So crazy, isn’t it? Once you see your first flush of germination in any batch of sown seeds, quickly get them out of the warm and moist environment you’ve provided for germination and get them somewhere a bit cooler and a lot drier. Too much moisture brings on the dreaded damping off and is one of the most common mistakes made by new gardeners. If growing seedlings indoors, take them off the heat mat; if growing in a cold frame, move your seedlings in and let them cope–happily! really!–with the slightly cooler temps and the drier air. (The only real exceptions to this rule are peppers and eggplants, which thrive in continued warmth for much of their young lives–not the mid-80s that make them germinate quickly, but definitely the mid-70s, which keeps ‘em happy but does not allow them to remain too pampered and weak. If you can’t provide just the right conditions, don’t sweat it, and err on the side of room temperatures, or use a carefully watched cold frame from mid-April on.)

Oh, and make sure that the young seedlings get plenty of light. See the last post in this series for details. Don’t hate me, but I must say it again: a sunny windowsill is almost never enough light.

Step Seven. RELAX. AGAIN. Once you go through this process a few times you’ll get the swing of it. Behold the young life unfurling by your own efforts. Be grateful for it. Don’t worry to death over it. Taking part in gardening is all about stepping into sync with natural rhythms, which are in constant motion. Seed sowing is just one part of the process, and it is not a zero sum game. Sow some stuff in the coming week or two; so more the weeks after that; more after that. In fact, once you understand when to sow which varieties, you’ll be sowing eight months of the year, along with transplanting, weeding, and–with any luck–harvesting. You give and you wait to receive. You receive and you feel grateful. You always glance ahead and consider what you can sow now for harvest later. Don’t lose sight of the dance and get trapped in the feeling that it’s all or nothing: there is nearly always something to be sown right now to improve your garden prospects, feed you and your loved ones fresh food, and save on your grocery bill several months down the road.

Any specific sowing tips or methods you heartily endorse and would like to share? Any train wrecks to steer others away from? Comment away!

Originally published on the Hudson Valley Seed Library blog

To those of us that forage for wild mushrooms, morels easily are the most enigmatic. Far and away, morels (Morchella species) draw more people into the woods than any other mushroom. In fact, a large percentage of morel hunters will retire their mushroom baskets for the year once the last morel has fired its spores and withered.

What is it about the morel that has such allure? Sure, they’re tasty. But, arguably, there are tastier members of the Fifth Kingdom.

To many, morels are the first sign of spring. For those of us east of the Rockies, we cannot be blamed for any excuse to get out of doors after being cooped up inside for month after snowy month (and, no, sitting inside a shanty on a frozen lake doesn’t count).

It’s likely that morels attract more neophyte mushroom hunters because they’re fairly unlikely to be mistaken for an inedible species; the really dangerous species (e.g. Amanita spp., Galerina spp.) mostly occur later in the year. Most people in the Midwest or Northeast know someone that hunts morels and will be willing to show a neophyte the ropes (though, it’s unlikely that they’ll share a favorite “spot”—don’t even ask!).

I get asked all the time: Where do you look for morels? Honestly, morels can be found just about anywhere in a good year. I have found them in gravel parking lots, in standing water on lawns, in wheat and soybean field stubble, and in the cinders along railroads (the latter one is actually fairly well known among morel hunters).

Many situations are exceptional, however. In general, morels will be found more regularly in younger wooded areas and the edges of mature woods on gently sloping land. Morels don’t seem to like having their feet wet, so usually not in bottomlands. Again, everyone has a spot that is the exception to any rules. You can look for trees that flourish in the same habitat as morels; in some cases the morels may even be mycorrhizal symbionts with those trees. The most successful morel hunters can identify tree species in the early spring (when there is little foliage), relying on the appearance of bark and twigs, or last year’s leaf litter. This is tough to do, but in general, to pick mushrooms throughout the year, one needs to be able to ID trees and other plants, in addition to mushrooms.

In the Midwest, look for recently dead American elm trees. The bark should just be pulling away from the tree in large sheets and some bark may even by lying on the ground (be sure to check beneath bark!). Dead elms can be almost automatic for morels. American elm is noted by its beautiful vase or flask shape; the base of mature elms will not be very round nor radially symmetrical. By the way, we have several species of elm in North America and most will not be productive; many occur in swamps. Don’t waste time—know your trees. Other trees throughout North America that share similar habitat with morels and that are most productive include white ash (and sometimes green ash), various wild cherry, white pine, cottonwood, tulip, and I have even had good luck around American sycamore.

The tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipifera) is sometimes called “yellow poplar” (even though true poplar is a completely unrelated genus) and is a favorite morel species in much of the Midwest and East. In fact, many consider the tulip morel to be different from other yellow morels; it is most often much paler in color.

By the way, these rules apply only to those trees listed above when growing wild. Any of those tree species in a planted setting (say, in someone’s backyard) may be productive for morels, but it’s unlikely. There is one planted tree, however, that you should seek out. Across the Midwest and Northeast, well-known hotspots for morels are old apple orchards. I’m talking fallow and no longer being cultivated. No one knows why, exactly; possibly there’s a mycorrhizal association between apple tree roots and yellow morels. Just one more reason why morels are the most enigmatic mushroom. It’s likely you have some sure-fire spots for morels that aren’t included above. Indeed there may be but a single thing that morel mavens can agree on: there’s never enough of them!

This is part three of a six-part series on seed starting. Part one can be read here. Part two is here.

Successful seed-starting takes infrastructure, be it a tricked-out heated glass greenhouse or a fluorescent shop-light setup in your basement. Either extreme–or anywhere in between–can work beautifully. However, in my experience, the solutions that are most likely to be implemented by busy gardeners are those that feel accessible and do-able in occasional spare moments.

This post covers one such solution: a cold frame constructed from easy-to-find, fairly inexpensive materials.

THE QUICK-AND-EASY COLD FRAME

I’m a huge fan of cold frames. Not only do they hold miraculous quantities of promising green growth within their simple walls, they also are easy to build and will happily bring through the winter many servings of cold-hardy crops like spinach, scallions, tatsoi, and mache. Here’s a cold frame that a reasonably handy person with some power tools can put together for about $100 with materials from a local lumberyard (or, unfortunately, big box store–see below). In one season alone, you can easily produce several hundred dollars worth of seedlings in this frame’s roomy 32 square feet.

Materials List

* 2 pieces 8-foot-long, 26-inch-wide SUNTUF polycarbonate panels — $40
* 2 packs SUNTUF closure strips — $10
* 1 box SUNTUF screws — $6
* roll of tape sealant (often used for metal roof panel overlap joints and similar) or some silicone caulk — $10
* 2 pieces 8-foot 2×12 SPF lumber — $20
* 1 piece 8-foot 2×8 SPF lumber — $8
* 7 pieces 8-foot 2×2 SPF lumber, as straight as you can find — $13
* exterior-grade drywall screws: 1-5/8″ and 3″ — $6
* Hinges – $6

Tools List

* Circular Saw
* Drill with 3/16″ drill bit, Philips head driver bit, and 1/4″ hex driver bit
* Optional but makes things a little easier: Chop Saw

All of these materials can be obtained from a local lumberyard, with the probable exception of the SUNTUF items, which can be obtained from Home Depot or Lowe’s. I like to give as much of my business as possible to my local lumberyard, Williams Lumber of High Falls, as I appreciate having a locally owned lumberyard so close to home. I want to support them. Unfortunately, they don’t stock clear plastic roof panels of any kind, and since the point of this project was to concoct a quick-and-accessible cold frame, I bit the bullet and braved the strip of sprawl on Route 9W outside Kingston to get the polycarbonate cover. (Note that these panels are lightweight and long–they require a truck to be transported–with some sort of bracing to protect them from blowing away in the wind. Or, you can have the staff at the box store cut them each in half to fit them in your car–see below.)

Once you’ve assembled your materials, here’s what to do:

1. Cut each SUNTUF panel in half so that you end up with four panels that are each 26″ wide by 48″ tall. This is best accomplished with a circular saw, though tin snips will also do the job.

2. Arrange the four panels so that they are spread out across a flat surface with the last rib on one panel overlapping the first rib on the next. Try to get them as straight and square as possible.

3. Measure the distance from the bottom of the first space-between-two-ribs to the bottom of the last space-between-two-ribs. This should be somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 feet. It won’t be exact, but that’s okay.

Make the Frame for the Lid

1. Miter cut the ends of two of the 8-foot 2×2s at 45-degree angles, like a picture frame’s corners.

2. Cut one of the other 2×2s in half. Miter cut the ends so that the long edges are 48″, like a picture frame’s corners.

3. Attach the 2×2s at the mitered corners by pre-drilling to prevent splitting and then attaching the ends together using 1-5/8″ screws or similar. The result should be a giant picture frame, basically.

4. Cut another 2×2 to about 93″ in length. Don’t cut it too short! Place it in the center of the frame, centered 24″ from top and bottom corners. This creates a middle horizontal support parallel to the other long sides of the frame; this will prevent the frame from sagging under the weight of adhered interior dew or exterior snow loads.

Finish the Lid

1. Using the drill bit, pre-drill holes in every other “valley” of each panel’s ribbing along the top and bottom edges.

2. Place strips of tape sealant along the top surface of the short sides of the frame. (Or, use silicone to seal this seam after step four. Place SUNTUF closure strips along the tops of the long sides of the frame.

3. Line up the panels on the frame so that they are overlapping and cover the entire frame, setting them on top of the closure strips. Set the final “valleys” set so they are resting on the tape sealant (or, again, you can fill this seam with silicone caulk). This won’t be a perfect match–the edges of the valleys will touch the sides of the frames, but they won’t rest on it nicely. This is okay. Just be sure this gap is sealed (it may take a few layers of tape sealant, some applied after the cover is attached.

4. Attach the panels using the SUNTUF fasteners and the hex-head driver bit.

Make the cold frame box

1. Cut one of the 8-foot 2×12’s into 2 45″ lengths.

2. Using a straight edge, draw a line from the top corner of one end of the length to a mark at 7-1/4″ from the bottom corner of the other end. Cutting on this line will create a side to the cold frame that will slope exactly from the rear 2×12 wall to the front 2×8 wall.

3. Using a circular saw, cut along this line. Be careful–it can be tricky to perform this cut, as it’s something of a ripping cut that sort of follows the grain.

4. Repeat for other 45″ length.

5. Position the pieces of the cold frame. The two 8-foot pieces of lumber are parallel, with the two 45-inch pieces of sloping lumber forming the sides, with the un-ripped side up. These smaller pieces should be “inside” the 8-foot pieces so that, when sandwiched, the entire length of the side is 48″ (including the 1-1/2″ for the ends of both the rear and front walls).

6. Pre-drill holes and attach all sides of the frame using the 3″ screws.

7. Half-way down the short sides of the cold frame, attach a spare piece of wood to the inside top edge, flush with the sloping surface of the side.

8. Flip the cold frame over. Cut one of the three remaining 2×2’s into 2 45″ lengths. Match these up with the undersides of the lumber that makes the frame and attach with the 3″ screws. This will be the “ground floor” of your cold frame that will slowly rot over several years. After it’s rotted, simply detach and replace with a new “ground floor.” The rest of the cold frame will last for about 20 years or so if left out–maybe more if stored well when not in use. (The ground floor is not shown in the accompanying photos.)

Put the Lid on the Cold Frame

1. Set the lid on the cold frame, matching up the corners with the frame.

2. Attach to the cold frame using a couple of long rectangular hinges and short screws.

3. If the lid does not sit squarely on the frame, purchase and install a latch to hold it snug.

VOILA! A functional cold frame that can be built in an afternoon for around a hundred bucks. Fill it with trays and go to town! You’ll find endless uses for it.

Originally published on the Hudson Valley Seed Library blog

Photos: Courtesy Hudson Valley Seed Library

This is part 2 of a six-part series on seed starting. Part 1 can be read here.

Starting seeds early, when done right, is one of the most satisfying aspects of gardening. To see young, green shoots perk up through the soil while winter carries on outside is incredibly gratifying. It’s as if spring begins as soon as the first cotyledons (first leaves) pop open. It’s also an essential part of growing tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, and other crops, which otherwise don’t have a long enough season in northern climates to mature much ripe fruit.

For the home gardener lacking a heated greenhouse, there are two main ways to start seeds under protection: indoors or in a cold frame. We’ll take a look at both strategies.

STARTING SEEDLINGS INDOORS

For many gardeners, starting seeds indoors is the preferred, tried-and-true method. However, despite what most people believe, to be successful requires more than just a sunny windowsill. Successful indoor seed-starting requires the following components.

• WARMTH. Most seeds will germinate within a fairly wide range of different temperatures. However, the swiftest germination takes place for most seeds of annual crops when soil temperatures are in the 70-80 degree range. The most notable exception to this is lettuce, which prefers a cooler temperature range of 60-70 degrees. Warmth is usually provided either by locating your seed-starting set-up strategically (near a woodstove or radiator, usually) or using a propagation mat, an electrical device that supplies bottom heat to the undersides of trays. In most cases an interior temperature of 60-70 degrees is not warm enough for quick germination, but seeds usually will germinate eventually (lack of supplemental heat is especially detrimental to peppers and eggplants, both of which are REALLY SLOW to germinate when left at room temperature).
• MOISTURE. Seeds sown indoors are easy to water, but be sure to locate the seeds somewhere where you’ll be free to water liberally when needed. Watering can create drips and mess, and if you put the set-up in a pristine living room you risk being too precious about things to get done what has to get done.
• LIGHT. For nearly all varieties (except lettuce), a sunny windowsill just doesn’t cut it. There do exist rare, due-south, full-sun, bay windows that just might cut it. But for most situations, extra light is necessary when starting seeds indoors. The most affordable way to provide this is to purchase a shop-light fluorescent fixture and suspend it within 1-2 inches of the emerging seedlings. Run it for 12-14 hours every day. And if you can set it up against a window, so much the better.
• HARDENING OFF. Seedlings grown indoors are incredibly tender and sensitive, as they are subjected to neither the temperature swings nor breezes found outdoors. If you were to move them directly from the house to the garden, the shock would severely damage or kill them. Indoor-grown seedlings require full hardening off: a period of about 3-7 days when the seedlings are exposed in increasing doses to the natural elements. Start with a couple hours the first day, and gradually work your way up to 8 or 12 hours before transplanting them. Be sure to take on this process at the correct time for each variety.

Summary: Starting seeds indoors is convenient and accessible to all gardeners. Little time or money needed for infrastructure. Supplemental lighting is almost always necessary: don’t skip it! Seedlings grown indoors are ultra-tender and require careful hardening off.

STARTING SEEDLINGS IN A COLD FRAME

(Above, a photo of a homemade cold frame produced from easily obtained materials. Instructions on how to build this cold frame will be covered in this series.)

A cold frame is a simple structure placed in the garden that features structural sides (usually made of wood) and a top made of a transparent material such as clear plastic or glass. Starting seeds in a cold frame eliminates several of the difficulties of starting seeds indoors. However, it requires a small investment of time and money in the construction of the cold frame and careful attention on cold nights. Here’s a brief run down of what you need to know for successful cold-frame seed-starting.

• WARMTH. From early March on, cold frames warm up significantly almost every day. When unvented, the interior temperature can easily top 90 degrees on a sunny day. The soil in seedling trays or soil blocks absorbs much of the solar radiation and heat, and the soil easily reaches temperatures that initiate seed germination. However, on cold nights the cold frame provides only 10-15 degrees of protection (depending on wind and the previous day’s high), so providing a bit of heat to stave off frost overnight is sometimes necessary. Sometimes throwing some old wool or polyester blankets on top can be enough; sometimes running a light bulb or Christmas lights within the box can do it. Generally some extra heat is wise if the outside temperature is predicted to drop below about 26 degrees and the frame contains frost-sensitive seedlings such as tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, basil, and certain flowers. (A cold frame with only brassicas and lettuces and greens will need no additional heat.) On sunny or warm days, venting is necessary–anything from cracking the lid to removing it entirely. Keep a thermometer handy: experiment a bit and you’ll get the hang of it.
• MOISTURE. Seeds sown in a cold frame can be watered with abandon–no mess to worry about. Do monitor the seedlings at the end of the afternoon, as solar heat and breezes from venting can cause rapid moisture loss on a warm or sunny days.
• LIGHT. When you use a cold frame, the  mighty sun takes care of your light requirements: no supplementation is necessary. Just be sure to place the cold frame in a spot that gets full sun exposure. (Keep in mind that leafless trees will fill out and shade the cold frame before tender seedlings can be put in the garden.)
• HARDENING OFF. Seedlings grown from the start in a cold frame require almost no hardening off, as they are exposed to temperature swings and breezes from a young age. Maybe give them one or two days of resting in a semi-protected spot outside of the cold frame before putting them in the ground; other than that, you’re golden!

Summary: Cold frames provide an ideal environment for seed-starting. Gardeners are assured ample natural light and need not bother with much hardening off before transplanting. Cold nights are an issue: gardeners must monitor for sub-26 temps and provide additional insulation or supplemental heat on those nights if frost-tender crops are in the cold frame.

Originally published on the Hudson Valley Seed Library blog

Vegetable expert and bestselling cookbook author Mollie Katzen’s handwritten and illustrated cookbook, The Moosewood Cookbook, (not to mention The Enchanted Broccoli Forest and her cookbooks for children, Pretend Soup and Honest Pretzels) introduced many to the love of cooking. She was inducted into the James Beard Cookbook Hall of Fame in 2007 and her most recent book, Get Cooking, was recently nominated for an International Association of Culinary Professionals Award. Beloved by many, new to some, Katzen continues her clarion call for taking back our food system one delicious meal at a time. I recently spoke to Mollie about vegetables, the new Good Food Movement, and the radical necessity of cooking.

CE: What do you make of the so-called Good Food Movement?

MK: It depends on who you talk to. It does seem that young people in their 20s mostly have food awareness, but you can’t generalize. I have a daughter in college and she’s a conscious eater, but her friends think she’s weird for eating healthy. So there’s still a stigma that eating healthy is weird, it’s not American. Back then, I was considered a “health food nut” because I broke away from the meat and potatoes that my mom served. And here, a generation later, my daughter is getting the same reputation.

What’s encouraging and exciting is that there are more farmers’ markets and there’s a growing awareness around food. For example, the campaign against transfats has been very effective. I’m also seeing a lot of encouraging food activism—but there’s a lot of work to do. And healthy food consciousness should not to be confused with our new food celebrity culture—TV shows like Top Chef, Iron Chef—have created a gap in what people are seeing on TV and the reality of what they’re eating.

CE: How do you think we got here?

MK: It used to be that we didn’t trust food in packaging and now we don’t trust food not in packaging. In the early 20th Century, the best job that a psychologist could have was working in advertising, which was really fashioned around selling and packaging food. The very first food packaging came from Heinz—they were pickling tomatoes, making horseradish, and experimenting with putting food in cans and jars. Somehow, they convinced folks to accept packaging and advertising—and we really received the message. They excelled at convincing people they needed something that they couldn’t live without it. And in fact, we came to not only trust it, but to think it was better and more desirable.

We’ve gone so far away from the source of our food. There was a time when we knew our farmers and where our food came from. But we’ve been greatly urbanized. By the time I became a cookbook author, I began working in an urban pre-school, planting vegetables so the children could see where their food comes from. I once asked them where they thought pizza came from and they said it came from a telephone—because that’s how they got pizza, from a delivery service. So I took them on a little field trip to a working farm called the Pizza Farm—it had an herb garden with oregano and thyme, they grew wheat and had a cow. Then we made a pizza together. That kind of literacy is essential.

CE: How do we undo this? How do we rewire people to learn the basics about food?

MK: The very basic act of cooking is becoming a radical necessity. That’s why I wrote Get Cooking, because people asked me to lay out the simple basics of how to cook. I wanted to give people the tools they need to make easy recipes, four to five things you can cook well. It sounds simple, but that’s the key to people digging their way out of bad food. They need to know how to shop and how to make food in their busy day and in a small kitchen. I wish cooking was required in school, but until then, we’ve got to teach simple lessons.

CE: You’ve got a fantastic companion Web site to Get Cooking and you’re now on Twitter. How has social media changed the game for you?

MK: I wanted to keep the book small and inexpensive, but I also wanted to provide videos online to allow for interactivity. So, on my own behalf, and with the backing of Kashi, I put together the Web site Get Cooking for the YouTube generation. I wanted to provide the basics: how to shop for a melon (look for “Melon Knowledge”) or what knives you should buy (look for “Knives”) and how to cook basics like stirfry, polenta, and pilaf. The videos are free and accessible to everyone.

I promised my publisher I would engage in social media and I’ve found Twitter to be more in the moment and vital than Facebook. I try and follow people who I believe are doing good work. I’m strict with what I tweet. I try to use it to be useful and retweet information I find important, or as a means to exposing people and ideas which I think need more exposure. On occasion, I might tweet what I’m cooking or I might describe what I’m eating if I think it might be of interest. But, I also take time off from Twitter.

CE: People seem surprised to find out you’re not a vegetarian.

I’ve never said I was a vegetarian, or that anyone else should be one. What I have said is, here are some ways that you can go meatless if you want to. I’ve said, here is my cuisine—it doesn’t include meat. And somehow, it’s been interpreted by some that I am a leader of a movement, which I never saw myself as. I will always eat vegetables and grain. I’m a vegetablist, a pro-vegetable person. But, I’m very tired of people who define themselves by what they don’t eat. For some, being vegetarian is more about the absence of meat and not about the presence of vegetables. I know plenty of vegetarians who don’t eat vegetables. I’m more interested in getting people to eat healthy food. I want to know: “What’s your attitude towards food, do you cook your own food, do you like it?”

Recently, Newsweek wrote a piece about lapsed vegetarians and even though I’m quoted, I was never interviewed for the story, which created a lot of misinformation. As a result, I received a lot of angry letters from a lot people. I wrote this rebuttal, which was not printed:

I feel a bit misrepresented by this article, which seems to draw a line in the sand with “animal eaters” on one side and “leaf eaters” on the other. I have always seen healthy eating as a continuum, not a dichotomy (and certainly not a game of “which side are you on”). I have never been dogmatic against meat-eating. Rather, my goal has always been, and continues to be, to inspire everyone (including meat-averse vegetarians, some of whom often find themselves eating fewer actual vegetables than one would think) eating greener—more of what I like to call “garden- and orchard-based” foods. My ideal Wonderful World would have everyone loving (and able to access) abundant, delicious dishes made from leafy greens, earthy grains ,and tasty nuts and legumes—and to have these items dominate every dinner plate. As you’ve mentioned, I included a few meat recipes in my most recent book, as I have many readers (old and especially new) who are beginners and omnivorous and want to learn to cook the things they love to eat. I’m hoping that meat-lovers (and also occasional meat nibblers, such as myself) will gain enough knowledge to know how to source it sustainably, and to learn how to eat less of it. Thus empowered, everyone will be able to happily avoid supporting the highly destructive fast food industry and factory farming of animals. If this sounds contradictory, let’s all talk about it more. It’s a discussion worth having–a big-tent conversation toward our common goal of sustainability, regardless of our food choices and tastes. Cook on!

My point is that everybody needs to work together to create a food supply that’s as sustainable as possible. Whether you like meat or not, everybody needs to fight against industrial food production. All meat eaters need to eat less meat and to eat more of a plant-based diet. We forget we can sit down at the same table and do this together. That’s why I’m involved in the Meatless Monday campaign; I want to make sure that people have plenty of choices low on the food chain.

CE: What advice do you have for someone who wants to get started in food now?

MK: Get over the food celebrity and cooking-on-TV-as-entertainment. Don’t try to be famous; learn how to cook and you will always have a job, because people will always need to eat. The gap between celebrity and real food being cooked is huge. People are watching TV, but there’s so few people cooking good, honest food. That is the stuff of daily life. If you know how to cook you’ve got a skill. Long after the TV’s off, you’re still going to need to eat. Go to the other end of the spectrum and become a skilled cook. Learn how to cook in volume, learn how to make soup for 80 people, a vegetarian casserole for 100 people. Develop a trade that enables you to go into an institutional place—schools and hospitals—and make food in the trenches. Become an activist so that food cooking is as respectable as it possibly can be.

The dead of winter may seem to be an odd time to declare to be in full flush, but here we are sitting pretty with more eggs than a household of three can handle. After a harrowing seven months in which we lost the majority of our chickens, we have recovered in aces. Quiche anyone?

This past May, we began our urban chicken experiment with three birds purchased from a lady near Petaluma, the egg capital of the world. She had the best variety of rare, heritage breeds around and I wanted “pretty” chickens, not those run-of-the-mill feed store varieties. Hey, don’t judge! I live in a tragically hip city and need to keep up appearances. But seriously, once I was made aware of the splendid array of chicken breeds–the beautiful colors, the crazy assortment of combs, the mohawks, the feathery hats, ones with five toes, ones that laid green eggs, ones with feathers on their feet–I knew I had to get myself some of that backyard eye candy.

One week after we brought the girls home, the Disgruntled Farmhand’s chick mysteriously died. I freaked and began a fast and furious Internet search of all things chicken disease related. There are a lot of messed up chicken illnesses out there, but only a small number of common ones. Since the chicks came from an overcrowded environment, I deduced that it was most likely coccidia, a parasite that normally lives in a bird’s intestinal tract, but since some is discharged in droppings, it can overpopulate to fatal levels in young chicks due to a chicken’s propensity to peck anywhere, even in a pile of their own poop. I treated the other two birds with Cordid, a medication labeled for cattle, but appropriate for poultry as well, and set off to buy four more hens from the same breeder, thinking my problem was solved. This is where everything went wrong, very, very, wrong.

The gruesome details of the story are laid out in past posts on my blog. They chronicle a sad summer in which I attempted to masquerade as veterinarian (owning urban livestock requires this as most city vets are not trained to treat poultry), nurse, cure, and somehow salvage the rest of the flock, only to be met with disappointment at every turn. By mid-fall, I had lost my sixth bird, my beautiful Dutch Brabanter, who had the sweetest disposition as well as one badass mohawk. Not one of our chicks made it to egg laying age, which occurs at approximately 20 weeks.

I was down to one wayfaring hen and as any farmer will tell you, chickens are not solitary creatures. A bird needs her flock. Our goats, Lucy and Ethel, were doing their best to stand in stead for poultry, but couldn’t quite cut the mustard as they have a tendency to frighten birds with their rambunctious play. The mystery of the deaths demanded solving in order to get us out of this pickle, a dilemma that had me teetering between two equally unattractive choices: 1. Cull the last bird, Sweet Pea, who was certainly a carrier of whatever was wiping out the flock. (This was, of course, out of the question since this hen is her name incarnate) or 2. Purchase more chickens and risk more carnage. No way. No how. We were up to our eyeballs in death…and we were running out of burial sites.

Fortunately, we had a third option. California’s Animal Health and Food Safety Laboratory will perform a necropsy on a chicken, free of charge, for anyone who has a flock of less than 500. So we Fed Exed the last corpse (yes, you read that correctly) to U.C. Davis and received our results in about a week. (You also read that right; at least one bureaucracy in the state of California runs an efficient ship. Will wonders never cease?). The Brabanter died of Marek’s, a common and especially deadly disease in unvaccinated birds. Though the breeder we purchased the chickens from claimed that her birds were all vaccinated for Marek’s, I knew this was impossible given the rate of deaths in our flock.

In a strange, ironic way, this was actually good news. Though our remaining chicken would be a carrier of Marek’s, we could repopulate our flock as long as we purchased vaccinated birds. I found a young farmer selling a smaller variety of heritage breeds, interesting nonetheless, who assured me that she only sold vaccinated birds at her business, Split Rail Farms. Sometimes dreams must be quelled by good old common sense. My obsession to own fancy feather capped birds was tempered by an even greater desire to possess a chicken that would actually lay an egg before I threw in the towel on the whole project.

However, I didn’t choose function to the complete obsolescence of form. We ended up with an Ameracauna, a breed known for their green eggs, but ours lays peach colored ones, a Cuckoo Maran and Welsummer, both layers of chocolate brown eggs though our Cuckoo lays speckled, and a Silver Laced Wyandotte who has a gorgeous fluff of black and white feathers that, indeed, do resemble rows of lace.

Though we purchased the birds at point of lay, we didn’t see an egg for almost seven weeks. I should have expected as much given that the days were growing shorter, slowing down their maturation. Chickens are also known to lay fewer eggs in the winter. Somewhere in between Winter Solstice and Christmas, the eggs began to trickle in. Now we get three to five a day. The yard is boisterous with the happy clucks and chirps of ladies laying.

We are grateful that the fruits of our labor are finally paying off. No more standing in front of the egg display at the grocery store, trying to determine how humanely the animals were treated; were they truly free range, force molted, de-beaked, or worse, raised in tiny cages never allowed to even once touch one of those skinny, long-nailed, witchy toes to the ground? We know our chickens are roaming freely about our little pasture, mowing the weeds and fertilizing the soil. After enduring such a heart wrenching struggle, the paramount gift we receive is summed up by my six year old daughter’s exclamation this morning after I whipped her up a bright orange scrambled egg, chocked full of Omega-3 goodness, “Mom, we have the best chickens in the world. They lay us eggs.” Indeed.

Editor’s note: Heidi will speak about her chickens and more tomorrow night at the Kitchen Table Talks on urban homesteading, which is SOLD OUT!

As the good food movement grows and urban farming heroes like Growing Power’s Will Allen and Oakland’s own Novella Carpenter pave the way, we will explore the surge towards City self-sufficiency, including growing and preserving your own food; raising chickens and goats; keeping bees and worms; composting, installing greywater and rainwater catchment systems; and a whole host of other DIY activities.

Please join us for a rousing discussion with a few outstanding local urban homesteaders who will share their experiences, insights, and ideas:

Kevin Bayuk is an activated advocate for ecotopian living, whose 3,000 sq. ft. backyard in the Haight is home to some 300 species of fruits and vegetables, ducks, worms, and greywater and composting systems. Kevin serves on the Board of Directors for the Urban Alliance for Sustainability, and teaches with the Urban Permaculture Institute, Urban Permaculture Guild, and UC Berkeley Extension and Earth Activist Training.

Heidi Kooy is a former anthropologist turned small business owner. Her City farming adventures are detailed in her blog, Itty Bitty Farm in the City. She gardens, cooks, cans, preserves, and tends to her collection of small livestock, including chickens and goats in her 1,000 sq. ft. backyard in the Excelsior.

Davin Wentworth-Thrasher is a San Francisco native and co-founder of the Ecology Center of San Francisco, a grassroots non-profit that cultivates community through designing and building experiential, ecological education spaces in SF schools and community gardens. Davin leads workshops on ecological gardening, urban homesteading, natural building, appropriate technology and more. Baking bread, making cheese, butter, and yogurt, caring for ducks, chickens, and honeybees, and foraging for uncultivated foods are a weekly passion for him.

In 2008, Davin experimented with a low consumption lifestyle by living in a tent in his 1250 sq. ft. backyard in the Sunset; using rocket stoves and solar ovens; consuming less than five gallons of water a day; and relying on an outdoor shower, greywater system, and a composting toilet to save and reuse water.

We’re also excited to announce our new, permanent location at Viracocha, a new antique store/art gallery/performance, educational, and community space. We are extremely grateful to Jonathan Siegel for his support of KTT and we know that many of you will appreciate the convenient Mission location.

Kitchen Table Talks is a joint venture of CivilEats and 18 Reasons, a non-profit that promotes conversation between its San Francisco Mission neighborhood and the people who feed them. Space is limited, so please RSVP to ktt@civileats.com or leave a message at 925.785.0713. A $10 suggested donation is requested at the door, but no one will be turned away for lack of funds. Sustainable food and refreshments will be provided, courtesy of Bi-Rite Market and Shoe Shine Wines

Many gardeners are currently pulling up plants and preparing beds for fall. They are laying parts of their garden to rest while their squash lay about, curing in the sun. Some gardeners are already turning their backs on their plots and projecting their green minds through winter and into next spring. But fall is not the time for complacency in the garden. It’s a great time to sneak in some late plantings of lettuce and greens—and it’s the ripest time of year to save some seeds.

Saving seeds sustains us. It is a cultural activity, one that connects us to 12,000 years of the most essential human tradition. Saving seeds also connects us to our familiar food plants in new ways, teaching us to appreciate each plant’s full life cycle from seed to seed. Now, more than ever, saving seeds is also a political act—a good garden practice that doubles as agricultural activism.

While many eaters have begun to connect with local farmers, seek out foods grown with no chemicals, and grow a garden of their own, the farmers who grow seed are an often overlooked part of the concept of sustainable agriculture. Just as the plants we eat have full-circle life cycles, the sustainability concept is most complete when viewed as a full circle. If we leave out one piece, such as the source of our seeds, it’s not truly sustainable. The next step for creating local food systems involves reaching beyond the farmer-consumer connection and exploring all of the people and industries that contribute to food production.

Saving seeds is a simple and enjoyable art that resists corporate monopolies, the dominance of hybrids and GMOs, the destructive power of industrial agriculture, and the patenting of life. So how do you save seeds and the world?

Choose your seed sources carefully. Start by planting open-pollinated varieties as opposed to hybrids or GMOs. You can’t save seeds from a hybrid, plant them, and expect to grow the same variety. This means that growers become entirely dependent on the company that created the hybrid and must purchase their seeds from this company every year. In terms of sustainability, hybrids create a dependence on financially and environmentally costly industrial agriculture systems—which are behind nearly all hybrid seeds. As for GMOs, which are the most hi-tech of all seeds, expensive technology and high chemical inputs are required for their creation and cultivation. It’s entirely illegal to save seeds from GMO plants and unlawful to attempt to reproduce hybrid varieties with proprietary licenses. Not all garden seed catalogs will say which of their varieties are hybrids (F1) or where and how they were grown. Make sure you are getting your original seeds from responsible sources by choosing seed companies that are upfront about offering open-pollinated or heirloom varieties.

Exercise self-control. Although harvesting food, for many plants, interrupts their life-cycle, seed saving and eating go hand in hand. It’s not an either/or choice. So harvest some for your taste buds and leave some of your plants to do their thing. It’s hard to resist picking a full bunch of Prizehead lettuce in its prime, but rein in your appetite and let several plants bolt and flower. Don’t worry— you won’t miss out on your Rose de Berne Tomato sandwich.

Be brave in your garden. Learning a new skill can be intimidating, but the rewards of becoming a seed saver are many. Don’t worry about doing everything by the books. The most successful seed savers start with an attitude of curiosity and experimentation. By carefully observing your plants through their entire life-cycle, you will learn a lot about how they create seeds. Each season try something new and repeat your successful practices from the year before. Bravery in the garden leads to a deeper understanding of our favorite plants and reveals moments of seedy beauty and bounty many gardeners have never experienced.

Cross-pollinate. Although you have lots of vegetative company in your garden, it can sometimes be an isolating experience. You are not alone. There are great gardening resources close at hand. Community gardens, neighbors, relatives, and farmer’s markets are all teaming with growing knowledge. For seed saving, books like Seed to Seed by Suzanne Ashworth and Breed Your Own Vegetable Varieties by Carole Deppe are excellent resources. Scout around and take a local seed saving workshop or visit an open house at a seed grower’s farm. The internet is another resource for learning more, and a few seed companies are now posting seed saving info on their websites. In the long run, connecting in real time with other gardeners and farmers creates community and fosters an interdependence that strengthens local food networks.

Make your politics practical. Food politics is not just about reading articles and sharing them on Twitter or having inspired rants with friends- although these discursive acts help raise awareness. Food politics is a practice. Knowing how your food was grown and who grew it is the first big step. Being aware of the who, where, and how of the seeds behind the veggies is the next step. More than ever, making the transition from being a consumer to producing food—and seed— for yourself and your community is a political act.

Here’s how we save tomato seeds for the Hudson Valley Seed Library catalog.