We feel lucky to live on this island, for many reasons.
The fact that we can drive less than ten minutes from our house and see this is one of them.
The island is dotted with farms, run by hard-working people with whom we laugh at the Saturday farmers’ market. We are grateful for the hours they put in the field for our food.
The farmers’ market, however, lasts only a few hours on Saturdays, from March to November. The farmstands are open all year long.
During the winter, however, the pickings are slim.
Onions. You can always count on onions.
The parnsips just keep going and going. They never seem to end.
(We have grown tired of the parsnips.)
However, even when there are only two or three kinds of vegetables or fruit at the farmstand, we look over at the rinsing sink, with the homemade curtains, right by the tables that are overflowing in the summer, and we feel grateful.
People who live down the street from us grew this food.
We buy some more parsnips, usually.
And there is homemade jam.
Apricot jam, bright with the taste of July sun, is always good in the winter.
And there are bags of fresh hazelnuts available.
No matter how slim the pickings, we feel really honored to take our daughter to the farmstand (and this is only one of many we visit regularly), so she can pick out vegetables with her dad.
This week? Eureka! Rhubarb.
Oh rhubarb. We love you.
Time for pie.
And chives. Certainly these are harbingers of spring.
(This week the temperatures nudged against freezing at night. It has not felt very springlike. These sprigs of green were a balm.)
Even if there still aren’t many vegetables for sale, there are vegetable starts.
Soon, it will be warm enough to work the dirt in the garden again.
And then it will be summer, and we’ll eat raspberries right off the vine in our own backyard.
This is my favorite part.
No one mans these farmstands. You simply weigh your fruits and vegetables, write down how much you have bought, and put some cash in this rusty box.
It’s the honor system around here.
This is Lu’s favorite part. During the winter, when there isn’t much bounty, she has empty tables to climb on and explore.
I’m pretty sure this empty table is where the farmers cut up the produce and bag it, to make it ready for our kitchen.
I love this spot.
Many times, after we have purchased our rhubarb and onions, hazelnuts and jam, we can wave to the farmers, in the field, working hard to bring us the produce we’ll be buying in a few months.
This is where we live.
Pacific Crest Farm
23720 Dockton Road
Vashon, WA 98070