4 sep 09 fat of the great land

I've been an avid vegetable gardener for the last 12 years or so. Something about providing our own food just feels good and right. And it's another great reason to spend more time outside in the summer.

Gathering from what Nature is planting has been less of a regular activity. When we lived in Talkeetna, Paul caught the fishing bug and spent many an evening casting for kings and coho. We ate well. In the first few years after moving to Anchorage, most of our fish came from friends who worked with Paul at Katmai or Lake Clark National Parks. They had subsistence rights and would share some of their harvest. In the last few years, we've supported the Alaska commercial fishery and have enjoyed scallops, shrimp, halibut, and salmon from the local fish counters.

Berry picking in Alaska is almost as popular as fishing. I've picked some high bush cranberries over the years and have made liqueurs or mixed them with my apples for jams. We've picked blueberries, huckleberries, salmon berries, and raspberries if they've presented themselves some place where we're hiking. Most of those have just gone into our mouths immediately. We've never picked with the intent to fill the freezer.

Last year our friend Jon, an avid (obsessive?) blueberrier and mushroom picker, showed us how to identify bolete mushrooms in the local woods. He guided us again a few weeks ago to make sure we knew what we were doing (and to feed his own addiction to the hunt). Since then we've pulled a few from our yard and our neighbors and have filled up a large ziplock bag with dried mushrooms.

Summer is turning to fall here in Alaska and the primal urge is on to fill up the larder and get ready for winter. Last Sunday Paul went fishing for coho with two friends in Talkeetna. While he was casting at Birch Creek slough, I picked blueberries and boletes around our cabin. In the days since, I've been checking the garden to see what needs to be picked. Raspberries and strawberries are ripening daily. The pea pods are almost too big to eat and the romaine is reaching high to be cut. Last evening I trimmed back the basil in the living room window and froze some pesto. The tomatoes are finally ripening and once again I remember why I try to grow them without a greenhouse -- the harvest may be small but no tomato tastes as sweet as the one you just picked. I picked the end of the rhubarb over a week ago and it's time now to boil up what didn't become cake or compote and jar up some rhubarb-ginger jam.

With all these fresh, local foods, both homegrown and wild, in the kitchen, the tastes still fresh in my mouth and mind, I think that I ought to make more time for berry picking, fishing, mushrooming, and gardening. Maybe I don't garden and gather just because it feels good and right. Maybe it's because these foods just taste so good.

Bhikkhu showing off part of our harvest

Here's an inspirational and useful website for cooking with gathered foods: fat-of-the-land.blogspot.com.