Organic Heirloom Seeds 2013

Photo of silver edge squash seedSeed catalogues came early this year, which was a nice surprise. I like the printed catalogs. They're like story books to me. As I sit and read, my mind fills with wonder. I'm taken to a world filled with color, texture and taste. Thoughts of perfect rows, sun drenched days where pollinators play all day inspire me to order a spectrum of delights for my soul.

I like catalogs because I chose what I want to grow. I know and trust the source, and I support small, independent businesses that have passion for seed collecting. And, it's an action against GMOs.

There's always too many seeds and not enough time or land in my world. It's a good problem to have.  I want to share with you the excitement I got from the catalogues that came into my mailbox

First, there is Terrior Seeds. I met the owners Stephen and Cindy Scott at the 2012 Heirloom Expo. Their business is typical of the small, independent business I mentioned above. Their passion drives them to excel.  Terrior Seeds offer a membership program, a gardener referral program, and they have seed collections complimented by books about the concept of the seed collection. For example, the Healthy Cat Collection;

Cats have instinctively relied on eating plants in the wild to maintain healthy bodies.

They are naturally drawn to specific plants for their healing abilities.

We have put together this collection of herbs, grasses and flowers that cats in the wild have used.

Included in this specially priced collection is the book “10 Herbs for Happy Healthy Cats” by Lura Rogers AND the following seed packets:

-Mexican Valerian

-Catnip

-Dukat Dill

-Purple Coneflower Echinancea

-Fernleaf Dill

-Giant of Italy Parsley

I know I'll be ordering some tomato and herbs from them.

Next, it's Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds, the folks who produce the National Heirloom Expo in Santa Rosa, CA. If you want variety, here it is. After being a vendor at the expo in 2012, I recognize some of the staff in the photos in the catalogue. I know they are authentic since I met some of them. This endeared me even more to Baker Creek. I know some melons will be coming my way from this catalogue that intrigued me from the melon display at the expo last year. See how that works.

Fedco Seeds is a seed cooperative in Maine. You can join as a member for $100, and support this wonderful group of dedicated seed collectors. They have a wide selection of seeds, onion sets and seed potatoes known as Moose Tubers. It was Fedco that I found the Mark Twain tomato, and I'm happy to say they have the seed again this year. I will be ordering some Moose Tubers, along with some other sensual delights.

Seeds From Italy is a substantial collection of Italian heirloom seeds. My grandparents came to America from Italy, and I am about to become a dual citizen with Italy. This catalogue connects me to my family heritage, and that is priceless.

They are the catalogues that came in the mail for this growing season. I have others that I picked up in my travels last year, but it's that tradition of seed catalogs in the mail that I feel is part of being an heirloom gardener. Don't get me wrong, I will order online too. Nothing will stop me from varieties that I must have. Remember I drove to Tennessee for Mark Twain tomato plants.

There are other sources here to peruse. Last year I tried to do too many varieties in a compressed gardening schedule. Don't try that. This year, back to some basics, some old stand bys, some new choices, and perhaps a volunteer or two will show up. After all, the word's out that my garden is my inspiration, no telling who, or what will show up to model.

 

 

From Seed Room to Showroom, An Eyewitness Account of My Last Post

In my previous post, Big Boxing the Seed Collector, A Slight Time Line, I painted a time line with some very broad strokes. One of those strokes, about how Levittown, NY and the start of preplanned suburban communities, laid down a line that my family followed. In 1965 there were race riots in south Philly at a high school there. South Philly is the southern area of Philadelphia, PA where my family was living. The suburbs beckoned. My father made the decision to move his family out of the city. It just so happened that a friend of his knew of this community that was being built in southern NJ. It was a complete community. Three styles of houses for families to choose from, a elementary school, a playground, a tennis court, a community pool, a golf course, an apartment complex and a very small mall of 5 small stores, and anchor in the form of small convenience store.

Our community was the third to be built in this township, and too many more were planned. We were out in the country. While our community was built on a old farm, there was plenty of farms left that still needed supplies. Orol Ledden and Sons was in the next town over, and was a place that local farmers got their supplies and traded stoories in the Seed Room. Yes a Seed Room. And a rather large one.

There were rows and rows of drawers along two walls that were the equivalent of a card catalogue in library. There were wooden barrels full of onion sets, and a large counter with a scale. Now imagine a wide-eyed and curious kid in a room that was treasure chest full of seed packages and seed sets, along with farmers talking about their crops. It was a great place. I loved being there. I was fortunate to have experienced this as young child because as I grew up, so did the suburbs. And the seed room was turning into a storage area.

There was rapid growth in the area in which we lived. Farms went to the highest bidder. Fields of crops turned into cookie cuter plots of suburban culture. Barrels of onion sets turned in prepackaged bags of grass seeds. The drawers, which had seed packets on the front of them to identify their contents, slowly lost their identity as the need for seeds turned into a demand for seedlings to plant.

It was a sad process to watch, but what could a former city kid do? After all, I was there because of the the dynamic that was changing Leedens on the local level, and the massive, national shift in social living. The experience I lived and witnessed, started about 15 years after the broad strokes that I painted the time line with. The canvas of the time line was the life that I was living.

The seed room is now a showroom for carpets, and hardwood floors. It's an appropriate metaphor for what Vanishing Feast is all about.

Heirloom? Hybrids? Why Not Both?

A friend of mine sent me a link to this article, Heirloom Seeds or Flinty Hybrids? and it gave me some food for thought. Since this is not a blog devoted to media critiques, I'll refrain from that. I will focus on the one thing that made sense to me from that article, the subject matter, heirlooms or hybrids. Heirlooms hold a special place in my heart. I am a passionate supporter of them. My mission now is to connect people to them, and encourage them to make them family heirlooms. That said, I feel hybrids serve an equally important purpose. It comes down to what is the end user's goal.

I can understand farmers needing to have a a uniform crop. Their living depends on the harvest. The challenge of weather, plant disease and pests is a formidable one. Hybrid seeds level the playing field in a big way, and encourage the farmer to farm. On a smaller scale, the home gardner faces the same challenges, and hybrids offer them the same advantage. Hybrids plants offer a safe and stable alternative to the potential gamble that heirlooms offer.

Heirloom varieties can be a bit of a crap shoot. Take for example heirloom tomatoes. For the farmer looking for a full-fledged, market-ready cash crop, a major stumbling blocks to heirloom tomatoes is their thin skin. It hinders shipping them over a distance. They also have a shorter shelf life. The plants can be more susceptible to disease. The odd shapes and sizes makes packing difficult.  In the structure of modern society, with the big box retail model as the driving consumer practice, heirloom tomatoes don't stand a chance.

For the backyard gardener, the stability of hybrids offers them opportunity to grow plants that aren't as finicky and fussy as heirlooms, according to the reputation that heirloom's have. Limitations of time, space, ability, and the growing zone in which a gardner lives, all are challenges that hybrids can address to a varying degree of success. They can bring more people in the fold as gardeners.

Hybrids on the surface offer a safer return on your investment of time and money for gardening for a certain segment of society.

They just don't taste as good. And you can't save the seeds. The seed factor is big. With hybrids you're handing over the power to sustain life on this planet to seed companies. These companies will decide which plants are worthy to be grown. This allows decisions to be made about what best for the company, not the balance of life on the planet. Keep in mind, mother nature perfected the blend of art and science in a seed. This generally tiny thing, that when planted in the earth with the addition of light and water, can grow into something that can help sustain life, for so many inhabitants on this planet, while tantalizing and tickling all of the human senses, is an amazing achievement. And it wasn't done for profit.

And it's that factor that I will place my trust in her, and her heirloom varieties.

While Watermelon Pink Beefsteaks, are, at least in my experience, one of THOSE varieties with THAT reputation about being not prolific, uncooperative and having a will of their own, the majesty of their process makes it easy to forgive them. Watching the fruit ripen on these plants is a sight to be seen. Not all ripen this way, however some go from a standard green tomato, to a green striped tomato that resembles a watermelon right before turning a highly chromatic crimson that is the color of a very sweet and ripe watermelon. The tomatoes are big, after all they are beefstakes, and ultra sweet. And the taste is worthy of the experience of their process. If you get a half a dozen from a plant, you've done well. They are truly fascinating. I'll always have a couple of these plants around.

So for me, that's what I relish in my garden. I could also understand why a farmer would pass these over for a cash crop, or someone who was challenged by time, space and enviromental issues, to choose a hybrid over a Watermelon Pink. There's good reasons for both heirlooms and hybrids. For me though, it's that nonconformist tendency that heirlooms offer, that make them my choice. And the power of their seeds.