Strawberry Fields Forever...and Cheese, Chicks, and Goats, Please

We had a farmy day today. Logan and I started out at nine a.m., headed to Dirty Girl Farm, to see how the strawberries and everything were coming along. I can start to see the season take shape there, and it feels good to visit again.

We also stopped in for breakfast, of sorts, at River Street Café, glad I finally remembered it when it's actually open. Finally, we popped out to Claravale Farm because I'm smitten with cows, and the middle part of the day was stressful. Allow me to meander, because it was that kind of day.

To get back to Dirty Girl farm...

Things were quiet, with only two men and a woman in the fields, picking and bundling chard for the San Francisco Ferry Plaza farmers market tomorrow morning. I had seen brand-new furrows for crops to come, and meanwhile the workers were picking the remnants of the winter crops: chard, cabbage, and radicchio. Coming on strong for May is green garlic, and then turnips, radishes, and the beans that make Joe the idol of his surfing buddy, Chef David Kinch. Alice Waters has called Dirty Girl her favorite farm -- the beans and baby greens are legend.

Added note: Talk about good timing. This has been coming down the pipes for a while. In today's New York Times magazine section, in their series, "The Originals," photographer Robert Maxwell has captured Joe Schirmer with David Kinch and Keiko Niccolini, all surfing buddies. Here's a link to the Style section.

Logan managed to fall over the rows of dirt several times, doing a face plant in the mud even, but we persevered. He charmed them, as he does everyone, by blowing kisses...."MWAAAHHH!!!" He's the kissingest baby I ever did see. He makes his toys kiss each other, and he smooths over all naughtiness by blowing kisses.

I could see that one end of the biggest field has been planted with tomatoes. Joe Schirmer, the farmer, showed up briefly before some appointments with his soft doggies, Pancho and Pixie. He gave the run-down on the crops. Tomatoes are dry-farm Early Girls, which are semi-determinate, unlike most hybrids (according to Cynthia Sandberg's tomato talk, that is). The unusual amount of rain we're having in California would help the tomatoes along. Joe's not the only farmer to dry-farm Early Girls: Geoff Palla at Meder Street Farm, and Joe Curry of Molino Creek have also tapped into the ruby treasure that Early Girl is.

Here at my house, we always have at least two Early Girls in the garden: they are the ones who have successfully over-wintered three times, tucked under the southern eaves on the back of the house. You can't imagine how sweet they are in February or March or April. They're the tomato equivalent of ice wine: roasted in the oven for two hours at low heat makes the most insanely delicious tomatoes. We call them "Tomato Crack" when I do up a batch like that. If anyone wants, I can post the technique with photos. Let me know.

Aside from the green things, Dirty Girl Produce has got strawberries galore: he grows Chandler, Aromas, and Seascape strawberries. I asked about the possibility of growing the little "Mara des Bois" that are getting a buzz in the press lately. Joe says, "There's a reason we grow these big strawberries. You pick four of them, and you've got your pint right there. Those little berries are like raspberries, $5 a basket, and it takes forever to fill a basket." And while I historically was less a fan of the large berries in California, all it took was some strawberries from farmers like Joe, like Jim Cochran up at Swanton Berry Farm, and Ronald at Windmill Farm to make a convert of me.

Joe's getting ready to start up with two more farmers markets this week: Tuesdays up in Felton, and my personal favorite market: Live Oak on Sunday mornings (on East Cliff Drive in East Cliff Village). He says that Gabriella Café is joining in on Sundays with breakfast offerings, too. I can't wait.

Then we left Joe, whom I like more every time I see him. He's too handsome for everyone's own good, but he's a goof about everything and clearly doesn't take his looks so seriously. The best photo I have of Joe is sadly the out-of-focus product from my faulty Canon (which--praise the Lord and pass the gravy--is being replaced with a brand-new one from Canon). Anyway, Joe caught me pointing the camera at him at a farm dinner, and started to mug. Doofus.

I'll visit again when things move along. Meanwhile, move along we did to breakfast at River Street Cafe. I promise to write about it soon, as I had not only a delicious meal there, but about twenty tastes of cheeses from around the world. Instant rave: high praise, get your butt down there. It's right in front of the "Farmer's SexChange," as a friend used to call it. Closed on Mondays, though, but open 10-6 Tuesday through Saturday and 11-6 on Sunday.

Finally, Logan and I went back out to Claravale because I needed a cow fix. Bovine Stress Reduction Additive, as I am coming to think of Ron and Collette's Jersey girls. Ron got out three baby chicks for me to photograph in the grass, and I have been a quivering mass ever since. Logan prefers the company of the big chickens though, and most especially wants to bond with the rooster. He speaks in rooster, tucking his hands up under his armpits and flapping his new "wings" -- and squawking in what seems to be fluent chicken. But the rooster ignores him and Logan expresses his dismay to me.

Logan has taken to Ron's goats, and the goats seem to have taken to Logan, who goes to great pains to feed them the single blades of grass he can manage to pull up with his fat little fingers.

We didn't stay too long: just long enough to make the rounds. Their kitty followed us around: she repeated her varmint-snaring act of earlier in the week and dropped a dead mouse for us to see. (Is that how cats pay rent?) Cuddle Kitty is her name, and she is a love. So we bid her adieu, and then Logan climbed up to his spot overlooking the pasture filled with calves and goats. It was time to say good-bye to his friends.

Maybe he's overdoing that kissing thing, but I don't think so. I don't call him The King of the Babies™ for nothing.

NOTE: I'm going on a short trip to San Diego for my birthday weekend, and will photograph a farm or two down there, but I probably won't get to post. Please use the "subscribe" button above if you'd like to be notified when I add something here. It's free, of course. Once again, thanks so much for visiting my Small Farms Blog.