Jay Angler wrote:...I think a big part of the "automatic backyard food pump" is identifying plants that grow so well in your ecosystem, that you can count on them for your basic calories and nutrition pretty much without fail. Paul has plenty of other plants and young fruit trees on his land, both wild and domestic. Those can supplement and diversify his diet as available (like rhubarb which is only a spring crop due to its oxalic acid content). In my area, the natives relied on the ocean for their "food pump" by harvesting the salmon run. They also grew camas bulbs, but also exported/traded many of those. Many areas around the world had at least one "reliable" staple crop that was well adapted to their ecosystem.
Daniel Andy wrote:I'd like to expand on this question for those with greenhouses.
If you have a (small!) greenhouse and can grow tropical (or subtropical crops) year round...which plants are the ideal ones for low effort food? I assume various tropical fruit trees, but I could be wrong. Beyond that I have no idea and I would love to hear what people think.
The assumption is this is a small greenhouse....
Nikki Roche wrote:I met a couple of requirements of this thought experiment. I'm in zone 7b in southeastern US, and I have 1/6 acre fenced-in garden that's been largely ignored for about 4 years. I chopped and dropped a lot of it a few years ago, and then health problems got in the way. The lesson I learned was "don't put all of your eggs in one basket." I like the idea and simplicity of 3 main crops, but I think having only 3 and then ignoring them until needed would make me more concerned. Because interestingly, the sunchokes and walking onions, which were thriving and spreading for several years, all died during the last 4 years. There was weed pressure, deer pressure for the sunchokes, record low temperatures in winter, and a record drought one summer. Kale has never reseeded itself for me. A couple of radishes still show up here and there from reseeding, and I find garlic in various places that I missed harvesting.
Over those 4 years, a couple of pine trees and lots of blackberries showed up. Blueberries and muscadines are thriving. Perennial herbs are doing well, and asparagus is still producing, though it's not a fan of all the weeds. Lambsquarter and chickweed show up each year, but often not in the same spots they were in the year before. During the winter, my fresh (not stored) choices were dandelion, henbit, plantain, wild onions, and chickweed, unless I wanted to collect and process acorns.
If I were to plant food that I could leave for extended periods, I'd feel the need to opt for a variety of perennial veggies, lots of berries, trees if there's room, and annual edible "weeds." I might miss some windows of harvest, but there'd be *something* to harvest at almost any time and I wouldn't be in a clutch if one of those harvests failed or died. I imagine 3 core crops would work great for some people, but I'm not built for that after my gardening experiences.
After reading this thread, I want to look into skirret. I haven't had any luck with carrots, yet. And I want to investigate more edible tubers, as I don't know if achira or chufa would be options for me.
Suzanne Jabs wrote:I love the idea of using nettles for fiber, but just want to note that in the PNW of the US, I was taught by a park ranger that some endangered butterflies lay their eggs on nettles, and so we always harvest very carefully, looking under the leaves before picking leaves to use for tea and only taking a leaf from one plant, not cutting the whole plant. Something to keep in mind depending on where you're harvesting.
David Milano wrote:...
The interior photo of the old Ford parked inside the better-preserved end of the barn (the other end is not safe to be in) tells its own sub-story. By all appearances it was simply driven into the barn one miserable day when it could no longer justify its existence on the farm and promptly forgotten. I looked it over pretty well, and figured it could probably be started and driven with a bit of tinkering. (I once resurrected a long—30 years long—abandoned field truck that the farmer gave to a friend and myself for free, just for the effort of getting it out of his hedgerow. The rugged old flathead V8 coughed up and the leaky tires held enough air to get it out of the field and into a trailer.) But this truck revival wasn’t to be. The owner (two generations along from the truck’s use-by date) wasn’t interested, and really neither was I, being already overloaded with projects.
I guess the old Ford sits there still. The very likely outcome? Falling timbers will one day finish it off for good.
In their small way, the barn and the truck tell the story of the rise of colossal, centralized systems, and the fall of tiny local ones.