[CH] Hab fields 99
Alex Silbajoris (72163.1353@compuserve.com)
Mon, 4 Oct 1999 17:12:00 -0400
Sco's,
I'm back home from Jim's hab fields, sore and tired and scratching bug
bites I can't identify. Oh, and the kitchen reeks of vinegar.
Linda and I arrived Friday night and camped alone. I showed her around a
little by lantern light, an interesting way to spot habs hanging red amid
the green foliage. All around us it was quiet, as a lot of the bugs seem
to have been frosted already. Aside from the road noise, the only other
sounds were apples falling in the trees. Sometimes one would fall from the
top of the tree, striking others and causing ... I can't resist this ... an
appleanche.
In the morning we made coffee and I gave Linda a daylight tour. In my
family it is a longtime joke that we "walk around with beverages and point
at things" in the garden; it is considered bad form to actually accomplish
anything, though. I had to restrain Linda from grabbing peppers and
gourds, since I knew we would be back. This part of the orchard also has
mixed pumpkins, gourds and corn, so it really is like touring the bounty of
the nation's gardening heartland.
Once others began arriving, the picking began. Across the rows, you could
hear the thunk of peppers landing in empty 5-gallon bucket bottoms. I was
filling ordinary plastic grocery bags, each of which held maybe a little
more than half a bucket. I chopped two bags of red habs, and simmered them
into a mash along with some apple cider, using a gasoline stove and a
12-quart Le Creuset stock pot. I also stepped over to the heavily-laden
apple tree behind me and coarsely chopped a few apples into the pot. I
brought it home in little freezer tubs, and I'll run it all through a ricer
before heating it through again, adding vinegar, and hot-canning it.
I also have a bag of orange habs, which I think will go into an orange
sauce. I must admit, however, that the thought of a hab-stuffed roast
turkey did occur to me. This morning I pickled about a gallon of Datil
peppers. These are unremarkable-looking little green peppers with heat
almost like a hab. I made an extremely obnoxious pickling brine - 3 cups
water, 3 cups white vinegar, 1/2 cup kosher salt, slivered garlic, bay
leaf, cumin, coriander and mustard seeds - and it's just strong enough to
be noticeable behind the fierce heat of the peppers (which still don't look
dangerous).
Rael, I gotta tell you, ya might want to think twice before running nekkid
through this patch. Since some earlier pickers were rough with some of the
plants, we were stepping on fallen branches, frequently popping habs under
our feet. I had initially planned to go barefoot and in shorts, but I was
glad that I kept footgear on the whole time. Otherwise I would have one
hell of a case of Hunan Heel. As it was, my entire body was getting
saturated with capsaicin, and I just had to go along with it. While I sat
chopping habs, the back of my left hand was orange with crust. The
occasional whiff of cooking hab fumes kept me close to sneezing. In fact,
it was like the sneeze section from the long version of Whole Lotta Love,
except it lasted 30 hours. (People learned to be wary of the cooking fumes
and keep back, but hey, you think I'm gonna cook this stuff indoors?)
As I type today, my fingertips are gently burning. My back and legs are
sore from stooping and picking, and my rear end now recalls sitting on that
inverted bucket for half the day while I cooked the mash.
We had a great time meeting friends old and new, swapping food and stories.
I loved the opportunity to see how many variations there can be among
habs, both in growing habits and fruits. Thanks to Jim and Abbie for their
efforts, and we're looking forward to next year.
Alex Silbajoris 72163.1353@compuserve.com
and you watch, Charlie Brown, NEXT year we really WILL see the Great
Pumpkin!