Agriculture
Chair: Blanche Lincoln (D-AR)
- Max Baucus (D-MT)
- Michael Bennet (D-CO)
- Sherrod Brown (D-OH)
- Bob Casey (D-PA)
- Kent Conrad (D-ND)
- Kirsten Gillibrand (D-NY)
- Tom Harkin (D-IA)
- Amy Klobuchar (D-MN)
- Pat Leahy (D-VT)
- Ben Nelson (D-NE)
- Debbie Stabenow (D-MI)
- Saxby Chambliss (R-GA)
- Thad Cochran (R-MS)
- John Cornyn (R-TX)
- Chuck Grassley (R-IA)
- Mike Johanns (R-NE)
- Dick Lugar (R-IN)
- Mitch McConnell (R-KY)
- Pat Roberts (R-KS)
- John R. Thune (R-SD)
Appropriations
Chair: Daniel Inouye (D-HI) Ag Sub-Committee
Chair: Herb Kohl (D-WI)
- Byron Dorgan (D-ND)
- Dick Durbin (D-IL)
- Dianne Feinstein (D-CA)
- Tom Harkin (D-IA)
- Tim Johnson (D-SD)
- Ben Nelson (D-NE)
- Jack Reed (D-RI)
- Robert Bennett (R-UT)
- Christopher Bond (R-MO)
- Sam Brownback (R-KS)
- Thad Cochran (R-MS)
- Mitch McConnell (R-KY)
- Arlen Specter (R-PA)
Health, Education, Labor, & Pensions
- Chris Dodd (D-CT)
Agriculture
Chair: B Collin Peterson (D-MN)
V. Chair: B Tim Holden (D-PA)
B Joe Baca (D-CA)
- John Boccieri (D-OH)
B* Leonard Boswell (D-IA)
- Bobby Bright (D-AL)
B* Dennis Cardoza (D-CA)
- Travis Childers (D-MS)
B Jim Costa (D-CA)
- Henry Cuellar (D-TX)
- Kathy Dahlkemper (D-PA)
B Brad Ellsworth (D-IN)
- Debbie Halvorson (D-IL)
B Stephanie Herseth Sandlin (D-SD)
- Steve Kagen (D-WI)
- Larry Kissell (D-NC)
B Frank Kratovil (D-MD)
- Betsy Markey (D-CO)
B Jim Marshall (D-GA)
P Eric Massa (D-NY)
B Mike McIntyre (D-NC)
- Walt Minnick (D-ID)
B Earl Pomeroy (D-ND)
- Mark Schauer (D-MI)
- Kurt Schrader (D-OR)
B David Scott (D-GA)
B Zachary Space (D-OH)
- Timothy Walz (D-MN)
- Frank Lucas (R-OK)
- Bill Cassidy (R-LA)
- K. Michael Conaway (R-TX)
- Jeff Fortenberry (R-NE)
- Virginia Foxx (R-NC)
- Bob Goodlatte (R-VA)
- Sam Graves (R-MO)
- Timothy Johnson (R-IL)
- Steve King (R-IA)
- Robert Latta (R-OH)
- Blaine Luetkemeyer (R-MO)
- Cynthia Lummis (R-WY)
- Jerry Moran (R-KS)
- Randy Neugebauer (R-TX)
- Phil Roe (R-TN)
- Mike Rogers (R-AL)
- Jean Schmidt (R-OH)
- Adrian Smith (R-NE)
- Glenn Thompson (R-PA) *=House Organic Caucus member B=Blue Dog Democrat
Appropriations
Chair: Dave Obey (D-WI) Ag Sub-Committee
Chair: P Rosa DeLauro (D-CT)
- Sanford Bishop (D-GA)
* Allen Boyd (D-FL)
- Lincoln Davis (D-TN)
*P Sam Farr (D-CA)
*P Maurice D. Hinchey (D-NY)
P Jesse L. Jackson, Jr. (D-IL)
P Marcy Kaptur (D-OH)
- Jack Kingston (R-GA)
- Rodney Alexander (R-LA)
- Jo Ann Emerson (R-MO)
* Tom Latham (R-IA) *=House Organic Caucus member
P=Congressional Progressive Caucus
Education and Labor
P Chair: George Miller (D-CA)
- Jason Altmire (D-PA)
- Robert Andrews (D-NJ)
- Timothy Bishop (D-NY)
P Yvette Clarke (D-NY)
- Joe Courtney (D-CT)
- Susan Davis (D-CA)
P Marcia Fudge (D-OH)
P Raul Grijalva (D-AZ)
P Phil Hare (D-IL)
- Ruben Hinojosa (D-TX)
P Mazie Hirono (D-HI)
- Rush Holt (D-NJ)
- Dale Kildee (D-MI)
P Dennis Kucinich (D-OH)
P Dave Loebsack (D-IA)
- Carolyn McCarthy (D-NY)
P Donald Payne (D-NJ)
- Jared Polis (D-CO)
- Robert Scott (D-VA)
- Joe Sestak (D-PA)
- Carol Shea-Porter (D-NH)
P John Tierney (D-MA)
- Dina Titus (D-NV)
- Paul Tonko (D-NY)
P Lynn Woolsey (D-CA)
- David Wu (D-OR)
- Buck McKeon (R-CA)
- Judy Biggert (R-IL)
- Rob Bishop (R-UT)
- Bill Cassidy (R-LA)
- Michael Castle (R-DE)
- Vernon Ehlers (R-MI)
- Luis F Fortuno (R-PR)
- Brett Guthrie (R-KY)
- Peter Hoekstra (R-MI)
- Duncan D. Hunter (R-CA)
- John Kline (R-MN)
- Kenny Marchant (R-TX)
- Tom McClintock (R-CA)
- Cathy McMorris Rodgers (R-WA)
- Thomas Petri (R-WI)
- Phil Roe (R-TN)
- Todd Russell Platts (R-PA)
- Tom Price (R-GA)
- Mark Souder (R-IN)
- GT Thompson (R-PA)
- Joe Wilson (R-SC) P=Congressional Progressive Caucus
Over the past month my foraging has reached a new level. As odd as it sounds, my surroundings seem to be subtly urging me in certain directions.
Here are 2 examples. The Kentucky coffee trees I know about both have the ground beneath regularly raked. Unless I visit frequently, I can't collect many beans, so for a long time I've searched for a KCT in undisturbed woods. Recently I was hiking a very familiar trail when I noticed a small sapling with huge compound leaves. Sure enough, it was a KCT, and as soon as I looked up, I saw its parent, a tall tree hung heavy with ripe pods 20 feet off the trail.
A week ago on a different trail I decided to follow a deer path. A couple of yards in was a log covered with edible and delicious chicken mushrooms.
Call me crazy, but I feel as though I've somehow passed muster and been admitted into nature's secret collective. Whatever's going on, I'm not complaining.
Last Tuesday was also a magical day-- beautiful blue sky, a light breeze, leaves crackling underfoot and trees settling more into their autumn colors with each passing moment. (Right: Old Schoolhouse Road, Fahnestock State Park by wide eyed lib)
As if the weather and the scenery weren't beautiful enough, I stumbled across a huge patch of wild peppermint. Shortly after that, I tripped over something round buried beneath the leaves, landing on my knees. What on earth? A step later there was another, and this one I excavated to discover a lemon-scented tennis ball. I looked up and saw several mature black walnut trees. In minutes I'd collected a shopping bag full of nuts.
Walking back to the car, I took the photo you see here. All that and rainbows too. Fall is beautiful.
For 3 weeks I foraged in new places without returning to my favorite park. I expected change because each week brings it, but I was still shocked. Since March, I've visited this park about 20 times, and each week the growth was thicker and greener. (Above: Henry Hudson Bridge by wide eyed lib)
Saturday was a turning point. For the first time, the forest is more sun-dappled than shaded. Undergrowth is dying back, leaving bald spots beneath the trees. The willows have discarded their foliage, strewing the ground with narrow yellow castoffs. Leaves crackle underfoot and once-narrow paths widen, their edges trimmed with poison ivy's magenta display. Fall is here.
The dying undergrowth has at least one benefit; nuts dropping from the trees are easier to locate. Packed with protein, fat and carbohydrates, nuts have sustained us through long, cold winters for millenia. While our survival no longer hinges on them, gathering nuts is a fun and delicious way to celebrate Fall. Why should squirrels have all the fun?
(Sorry not to have been posting as regularly, but I'm back now...)
As anyone following this series knows, I'm a big fan of local eating for lots of reasons, including:
• Cost effectiveness (no middlemen)
• Ultra fresh, seasonal food
• Shorter supply chain = safer food and less fuel
• Personal relationships with farmers
Foraging is one method of eating more local food, but most of the veggies I eat come from a community supported agriculture (CSA) program. Basically, CSA programs allow individual to share in the risks and rewards of farming. I pay in advance and receive a share of my farm's produce every week of the growing season. Of course, if crops are lost due to weather or pests, then I get less. On the other hand, if my farm has a bumper crop of corn, I reap the rewards. I pay about $13 a week for produce that costs ~$20 at a farmers market and even more at a grocery store. To learn more about CSAs or find one near you, click here.
Join me for a tour of a small organic farm and nearby dairy.
(Above: Norwich Meadows Farm Panorama. All photos by wide eyed lib)
I pointed out in my June 21st diary that my favorite time of year for foraging approached. In July and August sweet, luscious fruits are everywhere just begging to be picked. (Right: London Plane Tree by wide eyed lib)
As much as I love its crisp breezes and gloriously colored leaves, the approach of autumn always fills me with a certain melancholy. As the light fades and the nights lengthen, I console myself by looking forward to the bounties of the coming autumn. Fruits like hackberries, persimmons and apples are starting to ripen, nuts are swelling beneath armored shells, and plants like burdock, dandelion and chicory have almost gathered enough energy to make harvesting their roots worthwhile.
In the Northeast where I forage, plants teeter on the cusp of 2 seasons. It's still officially Summer, but every living thing is busily preparing for Fall. Join me for another walk along a salty shore to discover a few plants that thrive on this edge.
The beach on a Summer's day is filled with contrasts-- hot sun and cool water, soft sand and sharp rocks, warm breezes and ice-cold drinks. It's a testament to the pull water has on humans that we look forward to going to a place with so few creature comforts that we have to bring our own chairs. But if you think the only things around to eat are those in your cooler or purchased from a vendor, think again. Even the seashore offers tasty treats for the adventuresome forager. (Above: Long Island Sound by wide eyed lib)
While people in countries like Japan, Iceland and China eat various forms of seaweed on a regular basis, here in the U.S. these simple, sea-dwelling plants are mostly relegated to exotic status. And that's a shame because seaweeds are packed with vitamins and minerals. (Not surprisingly given where they come from, they contain lots of sodium as well, so anyone with high blood pressure should proceed with caution.)
Grab your swimsuit, some sunscreen and a towel and let's go for a stroll through the sand.
Foraging can be disappointing. On a recent hike, I found a forest strewn with what looked like black walnut trees. The feather compound leaves had toothed, asymmetrical leaflets, and immature green husks on the ground concealed a complex maze of familiar-looking chambers. Eureka! (Left: Brown Hooded Caterpillar by wide eyed lib)
Well, not quite. My main source of black walnuts is a single tree whose branches are too high for me to get a good look at the leaves. But something about the size of the immature nuts and the number of leaflets on the trees I'd tentatively IDed bothered me. When I later compared my photos to guidebook and internet sources, I realized my rookie mistake. I'd found bitternut hickory trees that, despite being fairly closely related to black walnuts, bear inedibly bitter nuts.
Someday I'll find that grove strewn with black walnuts; in the meantime this serves as a humbling reminder of the importance of looking at plants as they really are rather than trying to make them fit--through sheer will--a description that isn't quite right.
When I write about foraging, I'm grateful for easily expressed axioms about gathering related plants:
All herbs with opposite leaves, square stems and a minty scent are edible.
All plants that look like onions or garlic and smell like onions or garlic are edible.
Most white berries are toxic.
All pine trees have edible parts.
Some plant groups defy such axioms, however. Most legume plants, for instance, are poisonous in whole or part, so it's crucial to identify a legume down to species before eating it. The same is true of the carrot family (Apiaceae aka Umbelliferae), host to parsley, carrot and parsnip as well as deadly plants like poison hemlock and water hemlock. (Right: Legume Flowers by wide eyed lib)
The most confusing group of all may be the nightshade genus (Solanum). Join me as I discuss some of its lesser-known edibles, dispelling a few myths along the way.
While I may seem like a foraging expert, I'm not. Writing this series has pushed me to learn more about plants. Some of my new knowledge comes from pre-writing research, but most comes from close observation. It's one thing to recognize mullein on sight but quite another to describe its lifecycle and photograph each stage. (Left: Poisonous Canadian Moonseed Berries by wide eyed lib)
Since March I've taken thousands of pictures of flowers and the resulting fruits. I can often make a good guess about the form of a fruit just from seeing its flower, even on unfamiliar plants.
While this may be a geeky parlor trick, it isn't arcane knowledge. All you have to do is observe some plants frequently during their active growing seasons. When do they develop leaves, flowers and fruits? What do each of these structures look like? The human brain evolved to make connections. Why not go outside and make some?
On the first week of this trip, blogger Wide Eyed Lib (and hubby Mr. Wide Eyed Lib) took Eddie C and I on a foraging trip to Central Park. We met up at 103rd and Central Park West and we had barely stepped into the park before Wide Eyed Lib pointed out a large number of edible plants. I was absolutely shocked by the sheer concentration of edibles in such a small vicinity. As we walked, we saw many of the same plants again and again - things I would have never noticed if I wasn't on the lookout for food.
While Central Park would be stripped bare if all NYC residents used it as their free grocery store, no doubt a number of homeless or low income folks could improve their health and fill their bellies with just a little bit of foraging knowledge. Below, you'll find my pics from our foraging trip - and I'll rely on Wide Eyed Lib to weigh in as the true expert here, in case I leave out any interesting details that I didn't manage to write down.
I've always found foraging addictive, and never more so than when I'm foraging for fruits. No matter how tired I am or how long I've been picking, a particularly dense patch of luscious berries will re-energize me. Yesterday dusk was falling and I was exhausted and being eaten alive by 1" mosquitoes, yet I couldn't stop. I'm a pretty lazy person, so this kind of exertion is unusual. Despite the hard work, collecting fruit is amazingly satisfying and fun. (Right: Branches by wide eyed lib)
I have a theory. There's obviously an evolutionary advantage to having the energy and focus to harvest large amounts of fruit. It's also very hard work involving bending, reaching and stretching, all while maintaining balance. Animals who found this kind of effort rewarding in some way survived and those who didn't perished.
Standing amidst a field of ripe berries and watching a container fill with bounty is indescribably, primally satisfying. What are you waiting for?
I'm finding it hard to believe that it's August. Maybe if Spring hadn't lasted 6 months I wouldn't be so confused. (Above: Sunset over New Jersey by wide eyed lib)
June in Central Park was the 2nd wettest since 1869 at 10.06". (Average June rainfall is 3.84.) This July has gotten only 7.11", but that's still 2.49 above average. I'm not sure if this includes the half inch from Friday. If Central Park gets 5.24" in August (1" more than average), it will be the wettest Summer ever. I suspect there are drier rainforests.
Unusual rain has come with unusual coolness. Central Park has had one day in June and July that exceeded 85 degrees (July 17th at 86). This is the fewest number of days above 85 for this time on record. Only one other year comes close--1996, which is the only other year not to record a 90 degree day in June or July. (All statistics from the National Weather Service.)
I'd gladly send some of our weather to OR (record highs) or TX (record droughts) if I could.
I was supposed to go to my CSA farm last weekend. Sadly, the trip was cancelled. I wanted to meet the farmers who have made so many of my meals more delicious. (Above: Muscovy Duck Crossing by wide eyed lib)
I love my CSA, and I love knowing that by joining one I'm helping to keep small, local farms in business and taking money out of factory farming, while gaining more control over the quality and cost of my food. The produce I pick up each week was harvested the same day or the day before; it's organic, delicious and cheaper than a supermarket. (One weekly fruit share was a half pint each of red and black currents plus a pint of sour cherries. A local farmers market charged $11 for the same items; I paid $6.)
There are risks to CSAs as well. By paying up front you're helping the farmer ride out bad weather, insect infestations and anything that might affect crop yield. So, like foraging, you never know what you're coming home with. But isn't that half the fun?
Here's a list of CSA organizations in every state and most Canadian provinces. It's not comprehensive, but at least it might point you in the right direction.
I've gone foraging every weekend since the end of February...except this one. It's very frustrating because I'm thinking about taking a break from this series next week so that I can go visit the farm that supplies my CSA with amazingly delicious and fresh veggies every week. (It's nice sometimes to let someone else dig your carrots.) (Left: Pier Pylons, Staton Island, NY by wide eyed lib)
All streaks must come to an end eventually, I suppose. Not to worry, though. At this time of year edible plants are popping up much faster than I can cover them, so this was a good chance for me to catch up on the best ones I haven't been able to squeeze in so far.
And, if I do take next week off, the week after will be chockful of great stuff. (And possibly some farm photos, too.)
So grab a couple of plastic bags and a sturdy pair of shoes and let's collect some tasty plants.
Unbelievably, this is the 17th diary in the FFF series. Time is really flying this year, and the odd weather isn't helping. June was the wettest in recorded history for Southern New York, and so far July has been bizarrely cool. The hottest week of 2009 was way back in April. (Right: Eastern Comma Butterfly by wide eyed lib)
This odd weather has made figuring out which plants are ripe for harvest a bit of a guessing game, especially for fruit. Right now there's a bit of a gap when nothing new seems to be ripe. The mulberries and black raspberries are tailing off, and the red raspberries and blackberries are still pink or green. Next weekend I'm hoping to go a bit north to my favorite blueberry haunts, but this week I'll take a detour to the land of herbal tea that's free for the picking.
So put some water in your kettle (but never let it boil!), grab your favorite tea cup and join me for a discussion of a few plants that make outstanding hot or cold beverages.
Covered: cleavers, pine, chamomile & black birch
Bonus: compilation of plants for delicious herbal teas
I've always been interested in plants and food, and foraging is merely an extension of those interests. But for an increasing number of people the outside world is an undifferentiated, green blur viewed mostly through glass. Such people may know the names of houseplants or grow a few common flowers in their gardens, but that's the extent of both their plant knowledge and interest. (Left: Chicory Flower by wide eyed lib; chicory was covered in this diary and the blue parts of chicory flowers are edible.)
For these folks, roofs, electric lights, heating and air conditioning create the illusion that nature is something that only happens outside. This feeling of being removed from the natural world is, in my opinion, one of the ways that people rationalize small wrongs like littering and big wrongs like drilling in ANWR. Luckily, foraging can change that dramatically.
