September has been perfect; the slowly declining temperatures are still above average and enough rain has allowed winter crops of cabbage, kale, leeks and broccoli to make up growth lost during the drought. The squash are in store curing and the last borlotti beans will be picked this week. Walking around the packing barns, brimming with fresh produce, I am absorbing the vitality through my eyes and nose before I even open my mouth.
Although, the effects of the drought are still with us. Potato harvest relies on a cushion of soil to nestle the tubers as they go up the sifting web. In dry conditions, the soil falls off too fast, leaving the potatoes vulnerable to bruising. Growers will often irrigate ahead of harvest but, this year, few had the water. We think they are going to be ok, but do shout if you find more than a few with internal blackening. It’s a fine line we walk to minimise waste, without annoying you in the kitchen. In general, the crop is also smaller due to the drought, which is a pain if you tend to peel them but I urge you to leave the peeler in the drawer; the look requires adjustment but even mash tastes better and is more nutritious with the peel on. In contrast, the heat has made our carrots particularly sweet. Main crop harvest will start next month and it’s looking good.
After a stressful summer, stepping out to heavy dews glistening on spider’s webs and morning mists hanging in the valleys, I feel the privilege and tangible purpose of being a farmer. My only sadness is seeing so many cider apples rotting on the ground for lack of a market. This morning, I attended a neighbour’s funeral. The church was full to bursting, with late comers spilling into the graveyard where they struggled to hear the eulogy over the bickering rooks above. When he took over the church tenancy, it was reckoned that the cider would pay the rent. Now traditional orchards, bar a few skeletal stragglers, have fallen but a group of villagers are fighting to reopen the pub where Brian drank his cider. Pubs, family farms and churches are still the backbone of rural communities. Without shared public spaces and the community they foster, resistance to the erosion and monetisation of our daily lives will be futile. So, I am heartened to see the ferocity of determination to save them from rapacious development.
Our News from the Farm posts come from Riverford. They are the digital versions of the printed letters which go out to customers, every week via Riverford’s veg boxes. Guy Singh-Watson’s weekly newsletters connect people to the farm with refreshingly honest accounts of the trials and tribulations of producing organic food, and the occasional rant about farming, ethical, and business issues he feels strongly about.
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