What Does the Farmer Eat?

 

It was a happening, ranking somewhere between hosting your kid's future inlaws and Airforce One landing at the Gould Petersen airport on the bottom just east of Tarkio on the terror and anticipation scale.  CNN was coming to our farm....the same CNN that every home in the US tuned to for coverage of Desert Storm.  But this time, the reporter, the tech guys, were going to film our farm, a feel good seasonal story about a family farm during the golden days of harvest back in 1991.

The pictures in the field we all call "Dad's Big Bottom" could have been taken any year...and it was the perfect location for a long sweeping iconic panorama shot of combines rumbling through the mile long rows as the tractors with auger wagons brought the corn up to the trucks.

  Just Because Farmers Grow it....

I don't know why the Smithsonian article I linked to above brought the CNN episode to mind.  Perhaps it was the references to the hectic hum of harvest, the eating on the road, the irregular hours, the long days. Perhaps it was the odd presumption that farmers are still somehow at a subsistence level, living off the seasonal bounty of the land rather than taking their products to market, to the elevator, to the auction, to the gin, to the mill, to the rail head, to the packer, to the processor.

Or perhaps I connected this brief article about farmers and their meals with the fixation the guys from CNN had with our family's daily bread more than two decades ago.  What does the farmer eat? And when and how?  The CNN guys stuck their cameras right down into the eggs and sausage I cooked that morning for Blake to catch the sizzle and pop of grease and heat...even though the kids waiting for the bus had long since finished their cereal and milk.

The CNN guys were also quite adamant that we eat dinner out in the field because they thought that's what real farmers would do.  At least farmers they would show to the public.  Fair enough. Some dinners are eaten on a tailgate, but when the tailgate is long gone, a hood will do. 

 I don't remember what we prepared that day, but I do recollect feeling quite self conscious about the paper products threatening to fly away and become litter.  As you can see, harvest days may be warm, or cold, but they are always windy.  So sometimes the farmer will opt for shelter of the family SUV... 

or the pickup cab.

The crew at CNN filmed a good long segment in the front yard of Millie and Charlie's house, a bucolic setting beneath the two big pines.  The whole family gathered for noon meal and I am positive as I can be that we had Millie's homemade potato salad and sweet corn and beef from our freezer. 'Cause that's what the farmers eat.  

This is Sunday dinner Hurst harvest style 2013.  Two combines, a tender truck, the tractors and auger wagons, several semis, and fourteen other family vehicles.  The CNN crew would have had a hay day with this event.

We rural cooks do have disadvantages.  I can't always get the ingredients at my local store necessary for more esoteric or complex recipes.  That type of dish requires planning, not just a quick run by the HyVee after work for mushrooms or sour cream.  On the other hand, if I want to grill steak anytime during the six months of the year I can cook outdoors, I can...

 Making pasta or chili is just a matter of beans and pasta in the pantry and walking down the stairs.

 Even though its January, there are a few good apples from this past fall...time to bake them up though!

It may be simple fare but we farmers find plenty to eat during the cold months of wintertime..probably more than we need to fuel up during the cold days....

But  in summertime, living off the land really gets easy.

So, despite rumors that we all rush from a slab of cold Casey's pizza to potato chips to a hearty repast of York Peppermint Patties, the folks that provide your daily bread appreciate fresh, hot, tasty, and home grown meals themselves.  Whether putting the crop in or taking it out,

at daybreak

or after the sun has gone down....

there's only one more thing you have to know....

The farmer will always choose home made ice cream....

A Fine Romance

Two whisper thin young women were offering Valentine's advice this morning on the news talk show I watch while I crunch my cereal and gulp that first cup of coffee.

In their defense, their suggestions did not lean too heavily on commerce and cash. Sure, anyone desperately seeking a date or a mate was going to fork over cash: these ladies advocated dinner, flowers, the whole shebang. But for those "already committed", Valentine's day could culminate in an evening of board games, or a home cooked gourmet meal, or a movie, or a candle and massage, or any number of fairly unimaginative and trite notions of romance.

Am I bitter? Cynical? I don't love Valentine's day as an event or a cause celebre'. Yes, it was fun in grade school to make Valentine's mailboxes; but then I was the kind of kid that liked art projects. I even liked the little folded Valentines and divvying them up among my classmates. I'm part of the baby boom, so my grade school classes way exceeded the current fetish for small numbers. Which Valentine was appropriate for the girls in the class and which would not be too silly for the boys? We had solid notions about the difference between the sexes even in the lower grades, so any hint of sentiment was verboten for the males. Some kids signed their Valentines; some didn't. It was ritual after the exchange of cards to attempt to decipher the scratches on the backs of the card or fronts of the envelopes. I never sent candy, but adored getting the little conversation hearts. Inedible, yes; full of signs and intimations, you bet.

Perhaps I would have been more impressed by a duo of blue haired matrons or balding geezers with hearing aids. Let's ask them about romance and longevity. What do you name the relationship that exists for a half century? After work and children and leisure and pain and loss, after routine and habit is the rule and youth and energy a memory, what do you call the partnership, the bond that remains? Bubble bath and candles seem trivial, if not ridiculous. Is the idea of Valentine's day even viable or appealing? Should it be?

Outside of flowers, outside of steak, I suspect this old house will have to come up with a different construct for romance. Don't get me wrong; I love a good romantic setting! A table for two, a grand piano, a chanteuse? Two glasses, two chairs, a view? A long night on the road with the ball game on the radio? The Pacific from the Cliff House, Irish music at O'Malley's, an open air supper in Hawaii, a starry evening in the combine: there's a hint of conspiracy, separation, distinctiveness, contrariness in the notion of romance. 'Birds do it, bees do it; even educated fleas do it', but we humans want to be one and onlies, even if we're heading to a romantic resort dreamt up by a focus group. Romance is in the eyes of the beholders. Whether its a lukewarm mocha from Starbucks in May, a melted Dairy Queen Blizzard in August, or taking the trash out without being asked, a heart warming gift is the one that says 'This I did just for you'. Does anyone really get a Lexus with a big red bow? Or a diamond something in a remote snowy cottage? In the long run, I'd rather have the sidewalks scooped and the socks put in laundry basket. Flowers will never be a cliche' in this house; an occasional juicy steak out will build up brownie points.....

So, let's cede the Valentines Day battleground to the folks still on the front lines. There is such a thing as too much chocolate. There is life between PajamaGrams and Kay Jewelers....lots and lots of life. Nothing wrong with hearts and flowers, but spread 'em out through the year. Why limit it to a single day? Same goes for Victoria's Secret and Vermont Teddy Bears.....no, never mind, its never time for a Vermont Teddy Bear.. ...

Before I even saw the sweet things hawking the perfect Valentines, I awoke to the strains of Trisha Yearwood in my head:

'There's nothin' at the five and dime that I really need..

Your love is the only thing that means a thing to me....

Give me all your loving, throw the presents in the creek,

Give me all your loving, and I'll be tickled pink...'

Now there's a romantic notion!!