We Don't Got the Beets

A Faux Real Story

This week, as we visit the longest nights of the year, I thought we could all gather around the virtual fire each day and I would tell you all a story.

Well, not just a story. A Faux Real Story! These stories aren't fictional, but I've been told they are, nonetheless, somewhat entertaining. So, sip on some hot chocolate, reach your hands out to warm them by the fire... and enjoy.

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In the world that existed prior to the existence of the Genuine Faux Farm there was no need for Tammy and I to think much about beets. It was a time when we were the only people who cared what we grew in the good earth. Perhaps a friend or family member had a passing interest so they could be prepared for unasked for food gifts.

Even after we started the Genuine Faux Farm, I think it is accurate to say that neither of us felt strongly compelled to add beets to our grow list. Neither of us had grown up with much affinity for this root crop. While Tammy might have been cautiously neutral as far as they were concerned, I was decidedly ANTI-beet. In other words, I was perfectly fine with NOT "having the beet(s)" and I was quite content leaving beets off of our crop list during our first year at the farm. I was already growing carrots and I have always been very anti-carrot when it comes to my own diet.

I was, and am, among a minority of people that just can't find a way to swallow them. My aversion is enough that my college friends would ask me to get the mixed vegetables so they could watch me efficiently sort out all of those little square carrot pieces and deftly eat the rest of the veggies in the mix. Unfortunately for me, most people were happy to receive carrots as part of farm shares and they usually sold well at the market table. So I relented and we grew carrots for Tammy and our customer base.

So we delayed growing beets at the farm. I guess I wasn't quite ready to add insult to injury.

After many years offering a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) Farm Share we have learned that beets are a divisive crop. Our customers were split about half and half when it came to liking or disliking them. But, as we looked at our growing plan for a rapidly expanding program, we realized that we would have to add some crops that weren't everybody’s favorite so we could expand the variety and use the diversity to provide on-farm crop insurance.

So, we added beets to the grow list.

Philosophically, I was okay with it. After all, if I was not interested in eating them, then I would be perfectly happy to hand them over to customers with NO regrets. Right?

Our first effort for growing beets was a nice seventy-foot long bed of your typical, spring-planted, red beets. I don't even remember the variety we planted that year.

I’d like to take a moment and introduce all of you to one of the cruelties of a diversified, vegetable growing system. Each crop has its own set of needs and it is impossible to be an effective expert in each and every one of thirty to forty different crops on a CSA farm. And, it is also true that it takes some experience to become proficient at growing a new crop. So, if you try a crop you really WANT to succeed, it will likely fail during your first attempt due to operator error. On the flip side, if you try a crop in which you have minimal personal investment, it will take off like gangbusters! It won’t matter if you don’t know what you’re doing.

True to form, the veggie that Rob was not looking forward to eating took off. Germination was excellent. The growth rate was good. And, with beginner's luck, we even got the timing and spacing right for this new (to us) crop.

While I say that I was not fond of eating beets, there is another truth that goes along with it. I like growing green things. And, when something I plant does well, it makes me happy.

These beets were doing very well and I actually enjoyed walking by that row, anticipating the day that I would pull them and present them to our customers. I watched as the roots swelled at the surface of the soil and I marked the harvest week in the delivery plan. Suddenly, the experimental crop was something I was PLANNING on. It was going to be a key part of this particular delivery.

Before I go much further with the story, there are a couple of additional things you might need to know. First, we have grown beets successfully for many years since this Faux Real Story occurred. It took a couple of years to figure out the best approaches for our farm, but we got there. The picture above shows both carrots and beets side by side in Eden (our smaller high tunnel). Both are looking pretty happy. And, if I recall, that harvest was pretty darned good.

We also explored many different varieties of beets and discovered, much to our surprise, that both of us liked the taste of Chioggia and Golden beets. We can even tolerate the red beets when they are roasted. So, while I still don't like carrots, the same thing can't be said about beets.

And finally, I would like to remind you how we, as humans, can go into "auto-pilot" mode when we are in familiar territory. Your brain picks up subtle clues about what you are doing and where you are going without really focusing on it. You turn at the correct street corner. You open the appropriate cupboard. You know which side to turn to get toilet paper when you're sitting in the bathroom.

You stop right here for the beet row....

Ahem...

You stop RIGHT HERE for the beet row....

Um...

Where are the beets?

The day of harvest had arrived and I strode purposefully out to the field where I knew that beautiful row of ripe and ready beets were waiting for my attention. I had the containers ready to go and I walked down the path without really thinking much about where I was going.

Hello cucumbers. Hello snow peas. Ah, the summer squash and zucchini are looking pretty good.

After a moment, I hesitated and stumbled to a stop. My brain recognized that I had taken too many steps and that I had walked past the beet row.

So I took several steps backward.

Then I retraced those steps forward.

Backwards again. Forwards again.

I was absolutely certain this is WHERE I had planted those beets. I was so dumbfounded that I actually put down the harvest containers and I walked the entire plot and looked at each row. Everything was as I remembered it. Except for the beets.

I trudged back to the farmhouse and found Tammy and asked her if she had harvested the beets. Once I got a reply to the negative I walked back to the spot where I was certain beets had been present just 24 hours before.

That's when I saw it. Regular indentations in the ground that were just the right size for each round beet root. Next to those indentations were imprints in the soil that matched the cloven hooves of the small herd of deer that must have found our beet smorgasbord during the night-time hours. The only other evidence that beets had been growing there was one sad and lonely bunch of wilted beet leaves.

So I had to tell all of our CSA customers that "we don't got the beets."

Now our fate was sealed. We were doomed to grow beets again. Because the surest way to get farmers, like ourselves, to dedicate themselves to a particular crop is to take a harvest away as close to its completion as you can get.

And, as they say, the rest is history. Have a great remainder of your day.