Dishing Up the Dirt: Simple Recipes for Cooking Through the Seasons

By Andrea Bemis

Some recipes are dreamed up in the kitchen. Others are dished up from the dirt. For Andrea Bemis, who owns and operates an organic vegetable farm with her husband in Parkdale, Oregon, meals are inspired by the day’s harvest. In this stunning cookbook, Andrea shares simple, inventive, and delicious recipes for cooking through the seasons. Welcome to life on Tumbleweed Farm—where the work may be hard, but the stove is always warm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Mar 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9780062492241

Andrea Bemis

Andrea Bemis is the writer, recipe developer, and photographer behind DishingUptheDirt.com. Her recipes and Tumbleweed Farm have been featured in print and online publications, including the New York Times, The Kitchn, Well and Good NYC, EatingWell, and Epicurious. She lives in Oregon.

Book preview

Introduction

I’ve learned many lessons in the seven years since my life took a radical turn for the dirt. I’m physically capable of doing tasks that I would never have dreamed I could do in my prefarming life. I now organize an entire calendar year between the first and last predicted frosts of the season. I know community is everything. Food is medicine. And most important, cocktail hour should never be passed up after a long and hard day of work.

I now know a whole different language of love. One chilly March morning, well before sunrise at our Parkdale, Oregon, farm, the sound of the howling wind woke me. Still groggy, I turned to look at our bedside alarm clock—ready to mentally calculate just how many precious minutes of sleep were left for me and my husband, Taylor—when my stomach dropped. The numbers were blinking, and I was pretty positive our electricity had gone out.

Like a mother bear anxious for her cubs, I was beyond concerned about our plants. No electricity meant no heat in our greenhouse. If our plants were exposed to the near-freezing temperatures for long, all 20,000-plus seedlings might be wiped out. Our whole farm could be lost in one cold night.

I gently shook Taylor awake, telling him I was going to trek out to the greenhouse to investigate. He slowly rolled over to face me and told me in a sleepy voice to lie back down. In the pitch-dark, I heard him put on his heavy coat and close the side door behind him.

This is one way we say I love you on the farm.

Waking up in the middle of the night to check on our crops is not a rare occurrence for us. Whether we’re on deer patrol, double-checking that the chickens are comfortably tucked in, or monitoring the greenhouse temperature, there’s always something to rouse us out of bed even though our bodies are bruised and battered from long days of physical labor. Sometimes I wonder how this has become the daily rhythm of my life, and how on earth I have fallen in love with this beautiful yet harsh existence.

My husband and I live in a pretty magical place. Our six-acre home and farm is affectionately named Tumbleweed Farm, after the wanderlust Taylor and I shared throughout our youth. The farm is only five miles from downtown Parkdale, population 266. It’s a farming community—there are no stoplights and only the bare essentials: grocery store, hardware store, gas station, BBQ joint, and the best damn brewpub in the world. It’s the kind of town where you wave to every vehicle you pass whether or not you know its occupants.

Believe it or not, our inspiration to start the farm came in the form of a single blueberry. Or rather, a bag of blueberries, sent to us by Taylor’s folks back in Massachusetts. It was a hot September afternoon in 2008, and Taylor and I were living in Bend, Oregon. We had a hike planned for the afternoon, so I packed water and a few snacks, including a big bag full of the juiciest blueberries I’d ever tasted.

We hiked for a while before taking a break and dipping into those organic berries. With the beauty of nature around us and the sun beating down on our bare skin, those little bursts of flavor were pure heaven. We started joking about how awesome it would be just to pack up our lives and move to a farm, learn how to grow our own food, and become self-sufficient. Somehow, by the end of that hike, we’d made a decision to do just that. Five months later, we loaded everything we owned into our pickup truck and headed east to Hutchins Farm.

Yes, it was a little crazy and impulsive, but the truth is we weren’t going into our new farm life completely blind: Taylor grew up on Hutchins Farm, his family’s sixty-acre organic vegetable operation in Massachusetts. He didn’t spend a lot of time working there as a kid, and so he didn’t talk much about it when we first started dating. But during that hike, I kept asking him questions and he kept offering answers, and with each answer, I grew more excited. I loved the idea of growing our own food and living a simpler, more honest life.

At Hutchins, life was simpler, but it definitely wasn’t easier. Before we arrived, I knew nothing about farming and was pretty naive about how food ended up on anyone’s table. I’d never weeded a garden let alone planted or harvested food. But we rolled up our sleeves and got to work.

Baptism by fire would be the best way to describe that first season on Hutchins Farm. My romantic visions of our new, rustic life quickly faded. In fact, I absolutely hated it at first—it was cold, wet, and dreary. The tasks were monotonous and physically demanding. We were a farm crew of twelve folks, and I was embarrassed that I didn’t know how to use any of the tools I was given. I couldn’t even figure out how to open the pocketknife that I was required to keep on my body at all times. The farm manager wasn’t very forgiving of my inexperience, and I’d never been so tired and dirty in my life. If I’d had the option to quit that first month, I would have done so in a heartbeat. Taylor, on the other hand, was quietly falling in love with the work. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I kept my head down and tried to keep up.

Over time, each task became a little easier. I came to appreciate the hard labor and how it allowed us to eat and sleep better than we ever had before. Each night we’d crawl from the dinner table and climb the stairs to our bedroom. Our eyes were sealed shut before our heads hit the pillow. When saddled with a daunting task like weeding between 10,000 beet plants, I no longer let my mind focus on the drudgery of it all. Instead I started to fantasize about all the amazing ways I would prepare those beets when they were ready for harvest.

I hadn’t been much of a cook before then, but spending whole days focused on growing food gave me license to explore in the kitchen. We were cultivating a ton of vegetables I’d never cooked with, so there were some disasters at first (and I’d be lying if I said those still don’t happen on occasion). But just as with farming, over time I learned new skills and got more comfortable. Taylor started to look forward to the nights I made meals, and I found myself feeling energized in the kitchen, even when I was beat after a long day of work.

I wanted to share my stories—and meals—with my family back in Oregon, so I started a blog, Dishing Up the Dirt, to document our new life as farmers.

Our family and friends were a huge support to us, and the blog became a great way to share this new life. I was happy to read a comment on a recipe from my mom or sister or see a note from my dad about how dirty and strong I looked in my farm coveralls holding a large crate of potatoes. They were proud of us and loved living vicariously through the blog.

But after a few seasons on Hutchins Farm, we grew hungry for the West Coast. Taylor loves to ski, and I was yearning to be closer to my family. We both wanted to have our very own farming operation but on a much smaller scale than Hutchins. With three years of farming under our belts, we packed up our truck with a few essential possessions, all of my kitchen gadgets, and our rescue dog, Henry. And we were off.

If we thought Hutchins was hard work, we were greatly mistaken. Creating Tumbleweed Farm from the ground up (literally) was the most challenging undertaking of our lives. Gone was the luxury of expensive farm equipment like tractors; every single chore had to be done by hand. We quickly learned the true meaning of working the land. Through all of this, I continued to find respite in the kitchen, cooking daily and sharing the recipes on my blog—which, suddenly, had begun to attract a readership that extended beyond my parents. It was just the motivation I needed to keep going.

Like my blog, this book is intended to offer an honest glimpse into life on our six-acre farm in rural Oregon. It’s a story about love, community, farming, and, most important, the food that we grow, eat, and share around the table with family and friends.

The recipes are organized by season. My cooking is deeply rooted in fresh and local ingredients, and I hope that if you take anything away from this book, it’s an appreciation of the ingredients you bring into your kitchen. You don’t have to be a farmer to know that foods at the peak of freshness simply taste better.

You’ll also notice I tend not to categorize foods by meal or time of day. If my body is craving oatmeal and berries for dinner or a veggie pizza for breakfast, so be it. When we’re too rigid about food, cooking and eating aren’t quite as much fun.

I also welcome detours. Even when following a recipe, I tend to cook with a splash of this and a touch of that, and I encourage you to do the same. Also keep in mind that every kitchen is different, and ingredients and cooking times will likewise vary. The vast majority of these recipes grew from my early explorations in the kitchen, though, so they’re simple enough for even beginner cooks to follow (but delicious enough to serve your most discerning dinner guests). Sure, there will be trial and error along the way, and when you play a round of dominos or backgammon to see who’s doing the dishes—like Taylor and I do each night—there is only one winner. But despite all of the hard work that goes into making a meal, cooking and eating are really about one thing: love.

I invite you to embrace the whole experience, finding your own ways to make it enjoyable from start to finish. Blast some music while you chop onions. Try out a new recipe or cooking technique once a week. Heck, you may even be inspired to grow your own herbs on your windowsill or, better yet, plant a few vegetables in your backyard. Whatever works for you. But whether you’re growing your own food or simply preparing a meal for good friends, adding a little love and laughter will make it all taste better.

Dishing Up the Dirt

An Ode to Sauce

Sauces are the gateway to eating more vegetables. When we were working at Hutchins Farm, I quickly found that the best way to experiment with new (to us) vegetables was to pair them with a tasty sauce. Whether you dip, drizzle, or toss your veggies, a good sauce improves any veg dish a few notches.

As you’ll see in the pages to come, I use sauces in a lot of my cooking. The sauces that follow are my go-tos; they’re simple, versatile, and flavorful. Dinner can be whipped up in a flash with a few roasted veggies, a grain, and one of the many sauces/dressings in the pages that follow. All of these sauces will keep for three to five days refrigerated in an airtight container. Some of these sauces will thicken in the fridge, so feel free to thin them out with a little water if need be.

Dijon Tahini Dressing

MAKES ABOUT ¾ CUP

This dressing isn’t just for salads—it can also be tossed into hot pasta, used as a dip, or drizzled on grain bowls.

¼ cup tahini

1 clove of garlic, minced

1½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon honey

fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Whisk together all the ingredients with ¼ cup water—or use an immersion blender. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed. Add more water to thin if necessary.

Garlic Cashew Herb Sauce

MAKES 1 TO 1½ CUPS

Taylor calls this hippie ranch dressing, and it really does have a ranch flavor. It’s absolutely spoonworthy and tastes great served with roasted vegetables or meat dishes, as a condiment for fries, or spread on a sandwich in place of mayo.

1 cup raw cashews, soaked in warm water for 30 minutes

2½ tablespoons fresh lemon juice

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves of garlic, minced

2½ tablespoons minced dill

2½ tablespoons minced parsley

fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Drain the soaked cashews and rinse them under cold water. Place the drained cashews with ½ cup water, lemon juice, oil, garlic, dill, and parsley into a high-speed blender (see note). Whirl away on high until smooth and creamy; this will take about 2 minutes, so be patient! Scrape down the sides and add extra water, a little at a time, until you reach a smooth and creamy consistency. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Add more water to thin if necessary.

A powerful blender, such as a Vitamix, is essential for getting the smoothest consistency.

Basic Tahini Sauce

MAKES ABOUT ¾ CUP

I’ve been known to travel with this sauce in my bag. When we work our farmers’ market booth and hunger strikes, I usually grab a bunch of veggies and dip away. And while I prefer this eaten with veggies, Taylor likes it drizzled over roasted chicken. The truth is, there’s no wrong way to enjoy this simple sauce.

1 clove of garlic, minced

3 tablespoons tahini

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon honey

1½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Whisk the garlic, tahini, lemon juice, honey, oil, and a pinch each of salt and pepper with 2 tablespoons water, until smooth and creamy. Taste test and adjust seasonings as needed. Add more water to thin if necessary.

Smoky Cashew Sauce

MAKES ABOUT 1½ CUPS

Smoked paprika gives this sauce an extra depth of flavor. Drizzle it onto nachos or use it as a dip for burritos or quesadillas. Try it smeared on a turkey sandwich or, my favorite, served with Rutabaga Home Fries.

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Reviews for Dishing Up the Dirt

[undermyappletree · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is much more than just another cookbook of healthy recipes. It’s a tribute to life on a small farm and the passion that the author has for the life that she and her husband have created in their small community in Oregon.The introductory essay to each season is as much a part of the book as the recipes and provides an enlightening look at farm life. Recipes are divided into section by season rather than food types, emphasizing the fresh, local, whole foods one would find in season at a farmer’s market or your own garden. Most of the recipes are simple one dish meals or breads, soups, vegetables, pizza, and desserts. There are a few meat dishes but many are vegetarian.Each recipe begins with its own introduction such as why it’s a favorite or its origin, and sometimes a few helpful tips. Almost every recipe has a photo of the finished dish, something I find very helpful. I enjoy a good presentation and I like to be able to duplicate it.Even though these are simple recipes, the author does not skimp on the instructions. Both ingredient lists and directions are detailed making this an excellent book for both new and experienced cooks.Regular visitors here know I have a passion for gardening and, in addition to my wildflower garden, also have an organic herb and vegetable garden. And while I don’t have the space to add all the veggies used in these recipes, the book has inspired me to change the garden around a bit and add a few new ones.

[bookscookslooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I will start by noting this is an absolutely beautiful book. The photos of the food and the farm are just stunning. In a way it is rather how we eat on our little farm. We don’t grow near as much as the author on her farm but I completely understand the concept of eating what is in season. We do not grow all year ’round so in winter and spring we depend on whatever I’ve canned or frozen. That is why I so look forward to summer and fresh vegetables.Dishing Up the Dirt does not romanticize life on a farm – it is hard work. It is very rewarding to grow what you eat and to know exactly where you food is coming from, but it is a commitment of time and effort. The hubby started a couple of weeks ago with planting his first seeds and he’s been out preparing the gardens for planting for weeks and he has much work ahead of him.The book is broken down into the four seasons, starting with Spring. There are stories from the Tumbleweed Farm about the season and what it means. Then come the recipes utilizing the best that time of year has to offer. There are soups, salads, main dishes and many pizzas. Many of the recipes are vegetarian. My biggest complaint – if you can call it that – is that there are very few dessert recipes. Perhaps one or two per season. This, to me is not nearly enough to take advantage of the bounty of fruits that are available through the year. But it’s a small issue in the scheme of things. I’m sure I’ll be referring to the book as the year progresses and my garden produces to take a different approach to old favorites.