Sunday, January 7, 2024

Winter Preps to Raise Food in Alaska + Recipe - Bubbles and Squeak

(My book, Log Cabin Reflections, is available on Amazon.  Each chapter includes pictures of our off-grid, off-road life in remote Alaska.)

Buddy preparing to haul
We live in USDA Zone 3b, which means that not only is our growing season short, but also winter temperatures can plummet to -35 F.  Still, we do have a number of hardy perennials plants (like berries, rhubarb, and horseradish) but obviously fewer perennials than warmer climates enjoy.

To maximize food growth in summer, I start almost all annual (and desired perennial) plants in the winter, some outside, and some in.

Winter sowing:  This practice is so easy and low maintenance that it almost does not sound feasible, but it does indeed results in healthy plants.  It works best for seeds that need cold stratification (a period of several cold weeks before warming up) and for those that like to sprout in cool spring weather.  To winter sow, I save plastic vinegar and distilled water jugs, slice them around the middle except for a hinge near the handle, fill with about 4 inches of soil, water it with a soil nutrient/root stimulater, sow the seeds and then leave the jugs outside, tied to a banister post so they will not blow away in a heavy wind.  In the spring, when the air warms up, I water the soil lightly and the seeds sprout!  

This method works beautifully for cabbage, onions, garlic, and spinach.  For flowers, it has worked well for valerian, delphinium, lupines.  For some reason, I did not have success with poppies or yarrow.

An alternative that can be done in warm weather, is to store damp seeds in a baggy in the refrigerator for several weeks.  I have done this, too, but the sprouts were so delicate that they did not transplant well for me. 

 

Testing germination:  Seeds age out.  If stored in a cool, dry, dark location, most can be expected to last for 3 years, but beyond that is a gift not to be presumed.  People living in humid and hot environments may find that their seeds age out faster than mine.

Cabin on a sunny winter morning

Last winter, I was determined to get rid of dead seeds, so as not expect that a packet was viable.  I separated and test germinated the oldest packages (2016 - 2019).  To do so, I dampened a paper napkin cut in half, rolled ten seeds into it and inserted this bolus shaped napkin in a small baggy which I labelled with seed name and the average range of germination timing.  Ten seeds makes it easy to extrapolate to the percentage of viable seeds in the packet.  All six varieties of peppers were dead as were the cucumbers and onions.  Beans rotted in the damp.  Some of the seeds of two varieties of rhubarb germinated, as did corn, beets, radishes, one of the tomato packages and one of the tomatillo packages, and to my surprise, watermelon.  I gave all the dead seeds to the chickens as a winter snack. 

From now on, I will do this every winter, to ensure that I have seeds on hand that will produce a good crop.  Those that are dead I can reorder in time for a snowmachine delivery for March-April starts indoors.    

Germinating in a cold oven: I set almost all of my little seed pots in a cold gas oven.  The pilot light keeps the interior a more consistent, toasty temperature than my wood heated home offers, in the mid '70s, which is a germination temperature enjoyed by most seeds.  In side by side comparisons, the seeds that start in the oven sprout several days ahead of their comrades outside the oven. This location is also good for seeds that require darkness to sprout, like cilantro.

Mini-greenhouse:  In a corner of my cabin, I have a 4 shelf mini-greenhouse (6ft h x 3ft w x 2ft d) covered with a plastic sheath with two zippers on the front.  Each shelf has two grow lights.  This environment stays warmer and more humid than the southern windows, where I used to start seeds.  I always sow slow germinating plants, like oregano, in February, as well as fast growing greens that we can enjoy as small, fresh salads or sandwich toppings by early March.  As with the winter sowing, I always add a root stimulator to the soil or water.  One caution is that the plastic can make the environment humid enough to encourage the growth of gray, fluffy mold on the surface of the soil.  To mitigate that, I roll the plastic front “door” up over the top of the structure during daylight hours and close it up at night. 

Challenges:

1.    This year, I dug up the annual herbs before the gardens froze and brought them inside, hoping that they would overwinter in the mini-greenhouse.  However, I found that even with the grow lights on for about 8 hours they did not thrive.  They prefer 12+ hours of light.  The result was not worth the effort, so I dried the remaining leaves, put the pots outside and will seed them again in February.

2.  A mistake that I often make is to start plants too early because I am so eager.  This results in leggy plants that are weak when transplanted outside.  One year, my potato plants lay sideways on the ground!

     Every gardener has his or her hacks and a history of hits and misses.  These are a few that work for me so that I can utilize the cold and lazy months of winter to get a head start on a fast and furious summer of food production.

 RRECIPE:  Bubbles and Squeak

Bubbles and Squeak – what an evocative name for left overs!  This side dish or entrĂ©e is mentioned in British texts as far back as the 1700s.  It is a tasty way to use up a combination of leftover mashed potatoes, vegetables, and bits of meat. (Note:  if you like this recipe, check out Irish Colcannon, which is similar, but adds milk.)          

Melt 6 oz butter in a large, flat pan.

Sautee ½ cup chopped or diced onion and garlic to taste, about 3 minutes.

Add 2 cups of mashed potatoes.  Thoroughly saturate with the melted butter.

Add 1 cup chopped, raw, green vegetables and mix in well with the potato.  Cabbage is traditional, but any leafy green or diced broccoli will work nicely.  Mix in any cooked, chopped meat, if desired, like ham or sausage.

At this point, decide whether you want the final product to be loose or individual patties.

If the former, warm through and serve, as a hash.

If the latter, shape the food into patties and chill for an hour or more, then fry in additional oil, pressing down on the patties to crisp up the cooking surface, and then flip, press, cook, and then serve. 

Bubbles and Squeak is tasty either way.  The only difference is texture and presentation.


Thursday, October 26, 2023

Radical Life Change- From Southern City to Rural Alaska

My book, Log Cabin Reflections, is available on Amazon.  Each chapter includes pictures of our off-grid, off-road life in remote Alaska.

 
About 15 years ago, my husband and I embarked on a radical shift in our lifestyle.
Our first of two fine outhouses
 
We moved from a high-rise urban condo in Houston, TX to a 2 room log cabin in Alaska… with an outhouse.

Because there are no roads where we live, we sold our Mercedes and Honda and bought snowmachines (called snowmobiles in the Lower 48) to travel 3.5 hours to the closest community, and a plane, with floats and skis, to fly there in 20 minutes.  However, twice a year, when the lake transitions from water to ice, we have no transportation at all.

Instead of weekly trips to the supermarket and restaurants, I raise and forage 65 foods.  We make most foods and cleaning supplies from scratch, such as dog treats, shampoo, home remedies, beer, wine and bread.

Since we live so remotely, we receive none of the municipal utilities or services that I took for granted in a city.  To heat our home and tub, we cut 10 cords of firewood each year.  For water, we were on a 3 year wait list to have a company dig a well , because they had to get enough customers on our side of 2 rivers to justify transporting their heavy and valuable equipment across frozen water and snowy landscapes by sled.   For our modest electricity needs, which top out at 2000 watts, my husband built a 120 foot tower for a 1 kw wind turbine and several solar panels that we supplement with 4 hours of a small generator on snowy or rainy days.  

How and why did we do this?

Freshly hand-cut spruce boards
In the early 2000’s,  we made the decision to live very intentionally.  We started to scrutinize all aspects of our lives.  How did we want to spend our time and money?  Which people did we really value?  What was the overhead of charities we supported?  I asked healthcare providers why I needed this or that test or procedure.  It was liberating to purge clothes we did not wear, books we would not read again, sports equipment gathering dust. We donated our TVs.  I got rid of many chemicals and small appliances and furniture.  

Through this process, it was obvious that we could live in a much smaller home, with no debt.  We could do without a lot of business networking, socializing, and THINGS. We saved time and money and space. 
 
When my husband got serious about moving to Alaska, I was quite intimidated.                                   

There was nothing in my background that prepared me for this rigorously, self-reliant lifestyle.  I was a mediocre Girl Scout.  I am still afraid of daddy long legs. 

So I climbed a STEEP learning curve to gain skills and knowledge.I created a curriculum of courses I needed to learn and, in person and on-line,  took courses in permaculture, master gardening, master naturalist, furniture building, herbalism, ethnobotany, wine and beer making, mushroom foraging, the chemistry of medicinal plants (that one was HARD! for me).   I sought out mentors on the many skills I lacked.     
 
Bad weather overhead, no flying
Emotionally, I was equally challenged.  I felt overwhelmed by doing everything ourselves, such as clearing space, with hand and gas powered tools, in virgin forest for a cabin, a garden, a shed, an outhouse.  At first, I was intimidated by the silence, in which self-recriminations bubbled up, without all the noise and entertainment of a city to keep them at bay.  

But over time, this intentionality changed me. As I gained competence and confidence, I developed a stronger sense of agency in my own life.  There is no one-upsmanship, or keeping up with Joneses or virtue signaling living like this.  I cut wood, tote water every day.  My routines have shifted.  I read the weather to determine when to plant or harvest or travel.  Instead of favorite neighbors, I have favorite trees that I look forward to seeing throughout the year as I walk the property, and favorite bushes that pop up out of our deep snow after a season hidden beneath. 

Living very simply and self-reliantly has granted me the gifts of personal humility and awe of the strengths and generosity of Nature and has taught me a thing or two about myself, as well.
 
 Find my book for $5 on Kindle here,  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1