by Lee Reich
For no apparent reason, seedlings sometimes seem to take longer than usual to poke their first green shoots up through the soil surface. Or one day's transplants gets off to a rousing start right after planting, whereas another day, transplants sulk for a while before they grow. Fickle plants, or perhaps the problem is with the moon?
Some gardeners believe that the best times for gardening activities are dictated by the phases of the moon. No one has told me that my garden will be a flop if I ignore the moon; on the other hand, paying attention to the moon as I go about my gardening activities will "take advantage of the impetus provided by nature" (as one moon-gardener has stated). Old-time gardeners used to say, "Plant potatoes by the dark of the moon.”
Nowadays, instructions are more refined, taking into consideration the sign of the zodiac along with the phase of the moon. Planting is not the only activity covered. There are days that are ideal for fertilizing (with different days for organic or synthetic fertilizers), for mowing the lawn (depending on whether I want to hasten or retard growth), for harvesting, and even for making pickles. One year, to get the most beauty from my flowers, I was supposed to set transplants out on the sixth of June.
Detailed instructions can be simplified for those who merely want to dabble in "moon gardening." The period from two days before to seven days after the new moon is the best time to sow seeds whose germination times are either very short (e.g. broccoli) or very long (e.g. parsley). In the month or so it takes the latter seeds to germinate, they will start to grow just as the moon has gone full cycle and is ready to enhance growth. Between the time of the full moon and seven days thereafter is the time to transplant seedlings and sow seeds that take a long (but not very long) time to germinate, such as peppers and eggplants.
The basis for these instructions allegedly resides in influences of the moon's gravity, light, and magnetism. Lunar gravity, for example, is said to promote leaf growth and inhibit root growth. Hence, seedlings should establish well if transplanted during the third quarter, when decreasing moonlight and tidal pull slow leaf growth and stimulate root growth.
Is there any "scientific" basis for reckoning with the phases of the moon when gardening? No and Yes. The theory has some fundamental weak points. For instance, ocean tides occur because gravitational attraction is a function of distance, resulting in a differential pull of lunar (and solar) gravity between the side of the earth closest to, and the side furthest from, the moon. But the two sides of a seed are only a fraction of an inch different in distance from the moon, so tidal effects in seeds are negligible.
On the other hand, there is no question that the moon has an effect on such phenomenon as barometric pressure, temperature, and cosmic radiation flux. And carefully controlled experiments have detected periodicities in plants—water uptake by seeds, shoot growth, nutrient uptake, and respiration—coincidental with the lunar day of 24.8 hours and the synodic month of 29.5 days.
The periodicity of these responses is rarely in simple harmony with only lunar cycles. There seem to be other cosmic influences also at work. The zodiac, perhaps? Scientists concede that there are influences from the heavens that affect plant growth, and these "pervasive geophysical factors" (to quote a phrase from one scientific journal) probably are mediated via radiation to the earth and/or water in the plant or the environment.
To me, there seems to be a large gulf between an experiment showing water uptake by beans varying over the course of a month, and instructions that tell me that the best day to sow bean seeds is on the 17th of May. (Then again, the 17th of May surely is generally a good time, even if it’s not necessarily the best time, to plant beans around here.) The whole area of moon gardening seems worthy of further investigation, and perhaps backyard experimentation. It's a good thing our planet has but one moon.
Now, should I plant corn today, or wait for the correct alignment of the moon and sun?
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Lee Reich, PhD is a garden and orchard consultant and writer; he hosts workshops at his New Paltz farmden, which is a test site for innovative techniques in soil care, pruning, and growing fruits and vegetables. Information about his workshops and his books is available at his website, www.leereich.com.
by Lee Reich
The traditional vegetable garden is a one-dimensional affair, with rows of individual vegetables separated by plenty of bare ground. That layout worked fine when most backyards measured in acres rather than square feet.
Today’s vegetable gardens are smaller than those of yesteryear but can give us a lot more bang for the buck in terms of space used and energy expended. We can reap more from less space by “thinking outside of the box” and beyond, with multidimensional vegetable gardening.
Dimension #2
A second dimension is added to a garden when it is planted in beds rather than individual rows. Those wide spaces between rows in traditional plantings were not for plants, but to allow room for walking while planting, weeding, hoeing, or tilling. The permanent beds of my vegetable garden are each 36 inches wide, allowing easy reach into them from the 18-inch-wide paths.
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Photo by Lee Reich. |
Within a bed, plants can be grown close enough together so that their leaves eventually touch. Up a bed I might plant two rows of cabbage, three rows of lettuce, or five rows of carrots or onions. I plant onions four inches apart in the row and reap over fifty pounds of three- to four- inch-diameter orbs from a mere 10-foot-long bed!
Dimension #3
“Grow up” is what I tell some of the vegetables, and when they do, a third dimension is added to the growing space. Grown on a trellis or stake, peas, cucumbers, melons, tomatoes, and other vining plants can be planted closer together to yield more food per square foot of planted ground. As added benefits, staked vegetables get better air flow, which prevents disease, and stay more free of dirt and of nibbles from slugs and other ground-dwelling creatures.
Some trailing plants reach out for support while others are more ambivalent. Stems of twining plants, such as pole beans, or of plants with tendrils, such as peas and cucumbers, flounder about looking for some support; once they find it, they naturally pull themselves up. Not so for tomato vines. With long stems but no means for clinging, tomato plants are as happy to crawl over the ground as to climb a stake, so they need to be tied or otherwise helped up.
Dimension #4
The fourth dimension in my garden is time. One way to make use of time is to commingle vegetables with different maturities together in a bed. Interplanting a bed of broccoli and lettuce plants provides a good example. Two lettuce plants spaced eight inches apart can live between broccoli plants spaced two feet apart. The lettuce is harvested and out of the way by the time the broccoli finally fills the bed.
No need to restrict interplanting to just two different vegetables at a time. Run a long row of spring radishes up the center of that same bed of broccoli and lettuce (or just squeeze it in short rows here and there) for three interplants. The radishes are harvested and out of the way before the lettuces fill in, and the lettuces are out of the way before the broccolis fill in.
Few vegetables are in the ground from the very beginning to the very end of the growing season, so time can also be used to slip two, even three, different vegetables into the same piece of ground in succession in one season. For instance, tomato plants cannot go into the ground until the weather warms, so why not plant and harvest a crop of spinach, which thrives in cool weather, ahead of the tomatoes? Bush beans that peter out by midsummer can be followed by cabbage.
Dimension #5
And now for the fifth dimension: Putting time where it is not, tricks meant to add days or weeks to the beginning and/or end of the growing season. Pre-sprouting seeds in moist paper towels lets the ground outdoors warm or be used for a few extra days until the seeds sprout. Making use of transplants is another way to cheat time. Lettuce is a good example of a vegetable that can yield abundantly this way. Sown in containers from midsummer on, lettuces can be transplanted wherever space becomes available, such as where spent bush beans or corn plants have been cleared away, or onions harvested. Cabbage, broccoli, endive, and Chinese cabbage take longer to mature than lettuce, but transplants can similarly be slipped into the garden at the beginning or end of the season.
Another way to add days or weeks to the growing season is to hasten warming of the soil in spring. Dry soil warms up faster than wet soil, making raised beds, with their good drainage and increased exposure, ready for planting earlier in spring. Pulling back any mulch, which insulates the ground, also hastens soil warming. Mounding the soil into south-facing ridges likewise speeds warming, in this case by capturing the sun’s rays more squarely.
Warming the air is another way to make time where it was not. The traditional glass bell jars—cloches—have been superseded by plastic bell jars, water-filled tubes (Walls o’ Water), fiberglass A-frames, floating row covers, and plastic tunnels held aloft by a series of metal or plastic hoops anchored in place with their ends poked into the soil. All these methods add weeks to the growing season.
Trying to fill every available niche of physical space and time in the vegetable garden is like doing a multi-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. “Nothing puzzles me more than time and space; and yet nothing troubles me less, as I never think of them,” wrote Charles Lamb 200 years ago. I do think of them. But if frustrated trying to integrate every “puzzle” piece into every square inch of garden, I just go ahead and plant.
Lee Reich, PhD (leereich.com) is a garden and orchard consultant; he hosts workshops at his New Paltz farmden, which is a test site for innovative techniques in soil care, pruning, and growing fruits and vegetables.
by Emma Parry
“The Porch” is Upstate’s answer to New York storytelling behemoth “The Moth.” It’s an open source idea after all, live storytelling, and part of the pleasure of an evening at The Porch is the feeling of continuum—a Hudson Valley tradition stretching back beyond Washington Irving to our earliest beginnings.
There’s something suitably rural and deeply convivial about gathering after dark to hear good stories told. And the Porch stories are good, which is a mercy (because it’s not an unreasonable worry that an evening in the local library might be less than lively). The formula is good and distilled: currently seven or eight stories, under ten minutes long, and no intermission. The evening is curated and hosted by Joey Shavelle, and expertly emceed by John Nathan.
There’s a lightly worn excellence about this whole endeavor—a particular mix of talent and humanity—that makes attending an opportunity not to miss. The contributors are curated by Joey, and whatever his filtration process, it’s working; the material is pretty much unfailingly interesting.
If this does feel like another franchise in the making, it’s partly the feeling that Joey has hit a deep seam of stories—tapping and gathering a talented community; he’s chosen the perfect name for an out-of-town storytelling destination, branded it nicely, and executed beautifully.
Atmosphere’s a factor: depending on the weather, The Porch alternates between venues: a magical, immaculately restored barn in Red Hook and the storied Morton Library in Rhinecliff; each are strung with clear white lights and resonant with history. Shavelle delivers a seamless fix to the rare technical hitch, decent wine at $4 a glass, and—under the $10 “suggested donation” for entry—complimentary chocolate covered pretzels and M&Ms.
Nathan makes an irresistible emcee and a funny, compassionate anchor. His quick wit, wise asides, and generous attention attest to his success as the therapist he is by day, holding the night together.
February 12 saw the third event to date (the second I’ve seen), with performers including local world-class writers, brilliant musicians, academics, teachers, social workers, and assorted local characters ready to own themselves storytellers and air their artfully shaped secrets.
It is a particular form, the live performance of story, challenging for the storyteller and exacting for the audience. Not easy finding the ten minute arc, sufficient heart and drama, and not too polished a point. You don’t want your stories well worn, the wit too practiced, the length self-indulgent. Friday night’s stories conjured blood, sweat, fear and tears, dark nights survived, redeemed by music and laughter.
The Porch organizers keep a bottle of whiskey on hand should performers want a shot of courage. The evident nerves of storytellers are endearing, and encourage the audience to lean-in. Unlike the dispiriting typical experience of book readings, there is a level of engagement in this crowd that helps the teller carry each story safely home. And though there is a pleasantly competitive edge—it is a story-off, of sorts, after all—the overriding spirit is of encouragement. Every single storyteller mastered their nerves enough to deliver the audience from fear they’d seize up—and the best of them were nimble enough to riff off the emerging themes of the evening.
There’s still a pleasant feeling of discovery about The Porch, something of the speakeasy to it, with marketing solely by word of mouth and a quiet Facebook page, and yet the big barn was heaving and the library full to capacity. Judging from the evangelical spirit in people leaving, The Porch will be needing advance ticketing soon.
by JD Eiseman
“The winter solstice has always been special to me as a barren darkness that gives birth to a verdant future beyond imagination, a time of pain and withdrawal that produces something joyfully inconceivable, like a monarch butterfly masterfully extracting itself from the confines of its cocoon, bursting forth into unexpected glory.” - Gary Zukav, author of The Dancing Wu Li Masters

In case you’re in the dark (zing!), the winter solstice is the annual astronomical phenomenon that marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year, occurring here in the Northern hemisphere on December 22, when the sun’s maximum elevation in the sky is at its lowest point. The solstice has held a special place in the cultural calendar since neolithic times, when astronomical events were used to guide traditional agricultural activities such as the mating of domesticated animals, the sowing of certain crops, and the monitoring of winter reserves for food. For these reasons and others, celestial observations took on immense importance as societies became economically dependent on monitoring the progress of the seasons.
The midwinter festival that came to surround the solstice was the last major feast celebration of the year before deep winter began. Grazing cattle were slaughtered so they wouldn’t have to be fed grain during the winter (a cost-cutting practice still used by many small-scale farmers today), so it was often the only time of year when a plentiful supply of fresh meat was available. Wine and beer made from summer crops were fermented and ready for drinking, adding to the revelry.
Because the event was seen as a celebration of the reversal of the Sun’s ebbing presence in the sky, concepts of life and death, birth and rebirth are commonly found in cultures that used cyclical calendars based on the winter solstice. The year’s rebirth was celebrated with Hogmanay in Scotland, which has roots in the Norse celebration of the solstice. The pagan Scandanavian and Germanic people of northern Europe celebrated a twelve-day solstice holiday called Yule. Many modern Christmas traditions such as the tree, the wreath, and the Yule log have directly descended from Yule customs.
The winter solstice continues to be celebrated in the modern age by families like the deLongs of Foxtail Community Farm in Greenville (Greene County). They see it as an occasion to mark the season, participate in a larger historical tradition, and take stock for the winter ahead. “The solstice starts our twelve days of Christmas,” says Eric deLong. “It’s a time to rest, be with family, and, for us, create new traditions.” Over the years, the deLongs have turned the solstice into a weekend-long event, with friends and family spending a couple days in their home, reveling in Rachel deLong’s traditional menu of seasonal dishes, taking part in a talent show, and breaking off into the woods for a scavenger hunt. When the holiday season is complete, the deLongs dry out their Christmas tree, which becomes the centerpiece of their summer solstice bonfire, a fitting symbol of the cyclical nature of life.
–JD Eiseman
Perched on the Hudson River waterfront in Orange County, the city of Newburgh is steeped in history. Located 60 miles north of Manhattan, Newburgh was incorporated as a city on April 22, 1865. In that year, residents celebrated the return of Civil War soldiers on the lawn of the headquarters used by General George Washington and the Continental Army during the American Revolution (which also happens to be the first property acquired and preserved by a US state for historic reasons).
Despite this rich historical legacy, Newburgh was hit hard economically by several factors throughout the late 20th century; the subsequent decline was precipitous as the industrial base of the city relocated. But Newburgh is currently poised on the brink of a major revival, with a burgeoning street scene, a diverse population, and an influx of inspired newcomers.
The third annual Newburgh Illuminated Festival will commemorate the city’s 150th anniversary, celebrating the rich history of the city, while generating excitement for what is yet to come. The festival will feature live music from 40 bands across multiple stages, a Hudson Valley marketplace, ethnic food vendors, a historic trolley tour, yoga, pop-up art shows, sidewalk chalk art, kids activities, and more.
Saul Williams and Corey Glover are this year’s headliners, but there will be over 12 hours of live music throughout the day. Williams, a rapper, singer, musician, poet, writer, and actor from Newburgh, is known for his blend of poetry and alternative hip hop and has recently collaborated with Wax Poetic, Buckethead (Guns N’ Roses), and Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails). Glover, a founding member of the Grammy-winning, platinum-selling rock band Living Colour, will perform before Williams, bringing a solo-acoustic band with him.
Also not to be missed will be the Celebration of Color, including an immersive Kirtan concert led by Gaura Vani and the Mayapuris, known for their conscious lyrics and uplifting melodies, a collaborative yoga retreat featuring Hudson Valley instructors who will teach specialty classes throughout the day, and authentic Ayurvedic foods from all corners of India.
Speaking of food, Newburgh is home to one of the most diverse restaurant scenes in the Hudson Valley. The World of Food pavilion will feature authentic Peruvian, Ecuadorian, Dominican, Jamaican, and Mexican delicacies. Expect plenty of local farm-to-table samplings, Newburgh originals, and vegetarian options, along with fresh baked goods and iced treats. The Hudson Valley Marketplace will host local artisans, small businesses, and community partners offering distinctive handicrafts and unique gifts, including jewelry, home decor, vintage items, health and beauty products, and more.
Newburgh possesses a rich architectural history, with properties, parks, and homes designed by Downing, Olmsted, and Vaux, three of the most notable American landscape architects of the 19th century (Olmstead and Vaux designed Central Park together). The historic trolley tour will explore notable sites including Washington’s headquarters, the David Crawford House, North Plank Tavern, and the Ritz Theater, where Lucille Ball made her stage debut and stars like Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Xavier Cugat, the Inkspots, and Bojangles all graced the stage.
Newburgh Illuminated takes place Saturday, June 20th, from 11am-midnight between Liberty Street and Broadway. Admission is free and open to the public.
For more info visit newburghilluminatedfestival.com.
–JD Eiseman
by Rebecca Shea
I'm lucky enough to say that I've attended and hosted my fair share of potluck suppers and they are one of my favorite ways to catch up with friends and family. When your ticket in is just one dish but you can sample from many, while meeting friends or visiting with family, what’s not to love?
Potluck (or covered dish) suppers developed out of the traditional practice of wasting next to nothing. A pot was kept on the hearth fire into which all scraps of kitchen meat and vegetables were added throughout the day. The practice was prevalent in taverns and inns in medieval times and in homestead kitchens for centuries. The pot boiled all day resulting in a hot mishmash meal that was at the ready when hungry family members or unexpected guests stopped in. What your meal tasted like was the "luck of the pot."
French cooking has a related term, pot au feu, literally “pot on the fire” which refers to an enormous pot of beef stew made up of local vegetables, herbs, and low-cost, bone-in cuts of meat simmered for an extended number of hours. Anthony Bourdain, American chef and author, refers to this quintessential French dish as "soulfood for socialists."
In modern times, churches, social organizations, and even workplaces organize potlucks to define and support communities. Today, more and more households and friend circles are embracing potlucks as a fun, easily organized form of entertaining. The model remains the same—everyone who comes contributes something to the meal (a dessert, main dish, seasonal side, something to drink, etc.) The emphasis is on convenience as well as taste, so these easy-on-the-host and guests gatherings quickly become feasts of home-cooked favorites and simplified gourmet dishes.
Foodie magazines publish "helpful hints,” sometimes even "rules" to help people organize a successful potluck supper. With checklists for the hyper-organized, advice runs the gamut of suggesting emailing a sign-up sheet for dishes beforehand to avoid getting multiples of popular dishes to selecting a specific cuisine theme to avoid dishes that may clash.
I browse these articles but still prefer potluck suppers that embrace the freedom of choice and chance as part of the fun. Who cares if the dishes clash or if everyone brings lasagna? Whatever happens, happens—you never know. Everyone seems to have a great time without being told what to do.
Sometimes, obsessive planning makes things perfect not great. Potluck suppers are inherently informal affairs—usually messy, crowded, and rather raucous affairs with a make-do, help-yourself atmosphere. You may notice that the only time the room quiets down is when everyone is enjoying their meal! The atmosphere is the opposite of an formal sit-down dinner party.
Those of us who are tasked with making or helping make meals every day for family relish any invitation to a potluck. They offer a respite for making a whole family meal; we get to sample other dishes; and we can even pick up some hints while sampling spreads. The recipes we come home with after a successful potluck usually become family favorites.
So, the next time you get an email, a phone call, or, if you’re lucky, a paper invite to a potluck—accept. It’s sure to be a great evening of food and fun with friends and family. If you can't cook, don't worry. Just bring two bottles of wine (nobody will complain).
Here's a dish that I like to bring to potluck parties because it is effortless, pretty, nutritious, and easy to transport. Plus, it's tasty hot, warm, or even chilled as proven at last month’s potluck party held in a drafty old farmhouse.
Organic Sweet Potato Casserole (adapted from Nourishing Traditions by Sally Fallon)
Serves more than 8
Ingredients
• 6-8 large organic sweet potatoes
• grated rind of three lemons
• juice of 3 lemons
• 1/2 cup good butter, softened
• 3 egg yolks (local is better)
• 1 teaspoon sea salt
Instructions
• Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
• Wash and dry the sweet potatoes. Then, using a standard fork poke deep holes all around spuds.
• Bake sweet potatoes for at least one hour until the skins are crisp but the flesh beneath feels cooked through.
• Hold potatoes with a pot holder, cut in half and scoop out potato flesh from skins while they are still hot. Compost potato skins.
• Place potato in a bowl, mash and mix with butter, lemon rind, lemon juice, egg yolks, and sea salt.
• Transfer mixture to a buttered ovenproof casserole dish and bake for about 45 minutes.
• Serve and enjoy!
by Rebecca Shea
We are deep into the "100 Days of Darkness"—the time between Halloween and Valentine's Day when daylight could be mistaken for perpetual twilight. This lack of light can cause the dreaded "Winter Blues".

One antidote for the winter blues is to jet to a locale closer to the equator and be kissed by the sun on a warm beach with only yoga classes on the agenda. A more realistic option that offers luxury in its own right—beauty, light, and health—is to stock your home with an abundance of locally-made natural beeswax candles.
Burning beeswax candles is an elegant and simple way to counter the cold, blue light of deep winter. Beeswax candles emit a soft amber glow and they have a faint honey-like fragrance, that recalls the warmth and relaxation of summer days.
Many people prefer beeswax candles to paraffin candles, which are readily available in supermarkets and drugstores, because beeswax provides substantial health benefits. Burning beeswax emits negative ions that help clean the air, similar to how a rain storm helps clean the air outside. In forests, near waterfalls and streams in the countryside, there are many negative ions in the air, which share these salutary benefits. Usually sanitariums are located in forests so the patients can benefit from the negative ions, such as reduced tension, improved blood circulation, and a better immune system. Negative ions also help relieve tiredness. Try burning a beeswax candle while working on your computer. Studies have even found that the productivity of factory workers is higher when negative ion generators are put in place.
Paraffin, a derivative of the sludge of petroleum, coal, or oil shale is treated with carcinogens to create a usable product. Paraffin wax produces an abundance of soot. This soot can stain, sometimes leaving black residue on walls in your home that is difficult to remove.
Pure beeswax candles sometimes have a snob appeal because they are priced significantly higher than paraffin candles. But cost and value can be relative to each persons' needs, experience, and access to information. Some would argue that companies misrepresent the savings you get from buying the less expensive paraffin candles. When comparing burn times, paraffin candles have a lower burning point and therefore tend to burn more quickly—two to five times faster then beeswax candles. Plus, beeswax is a renewable resource (as long as we keep bee colonies healthy). Paraffin wax made from fossil fuels is finite, and by limiting our role in that corrupted market, we free ourselves little by little from the stranglehold of oil.
Martha Stewart thinks that beeswax candle making is easy, fun, and very rewarding (she would). But she's right—it can be a fun winter project to try at home. The materials for making beeswax candles can be found at the High Falls Food Co-Op and Hudson Valley Bee Keeping in Kingston. Follow Martha Stewart’s steps to beeswax candle making via a classic "vintage" video on her website or check out the simple instructions found at VisitVortex.com. Even the imperfect candles that you might hide away when guests come to visit will still come in handy when the lights go out during a storm.
There are also some wonderful local vendors that offer a range of beeswax candles for sale. The candles from Greentree Home Candle and Louvriere Candle Studio based in the Catskills are artisanal works of art created by master candle makers. Their tapers are perfect for dinner tables because they are essentially dripless and their height casts a pleasant glow onto the face of the plates, so you can see what you are eating.
Their molded candles make special gifts. Check out their Hob Nail Bottle candles and animal shapes. They even offer a black beeswax candle that is über chic. Find them online or in specialty shops throughout the Hudson Valley and Catskills.
Katherine Somelofski, of Dancing Star Studio also based in the Catskill mountains creates classic beeswax candles and her honey bear molded candles are charming. In the summer months she demonstrates the hand dipping process behind her pure beeswax candles at the Pakatakan Farmers Market. You can find her work at the Emerson's Gift Shop.
When you are in Woodstock pop into Candlestock at 16 Mill Hook Road for a vast variety of candles ranging from the artistic to the spiritual, with many made on-site. They even offer perfumed beeswax candles in glass jars like Tree of Life, Purple Haze, Flower Power, and Moment of Clarity which is a white beeswax candle infused with ginger grass. Ginger grass improves blood flow, sharpens the senses and focuses the mind. These are a refreshing treat when you tire of the honey scent of beeswax candles.
The shortest day of the year is past, but we are a long way from 9:30pm sunsets. The next time you are sitting in the bleary light of dusk, feeling the temptation to wallow in winter blues, hop in the car instead and go get yourself some locally made beeswax candles.
by Marie Doyon
In 1999, at the age of 19, Ambika Conroy was working as a photography assistant for a fashion photographer in Manhattan. She recalls arriving on sets only to spend hours twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the models to get ready. Inspired by a picture from the 70s that she had seen on her uncle’s fridge of a woman’s back and bottom in a crochet bikini, she decided to teach herself to crochet so she could make one for herself. She adds with a wry smile, “That was before smart phones, otherwise I’d be Instagramming.”
And so she began crocheting bikinis, at first as she waited on photo shoots, then in her spare time, then in all her time. By the next year her bikinis were being regularly featured in the pages of national magazines. In 2003, she landed a cover on Sports Illustrated.
But as the fashion world grew fonder of her bathing suits, Ambika became disillusioned. She says, “I love swimwear. I love beautiful women, femininity, sexuality, but I hate the swimwear industry. All of my press was Maxim, GQ, Sports Illustrated—all these terrible portrayals of women and their bodies.”
In 2005, Ambika closed up her boutique in Soho. Drawn to all the interesting work being done with food in the Hudson Valley, she decided to move to Rhinebeck. She lived a split personality worklife—part farmer (managing a CSA), part seamstress (working at a hole-in-the-wall dry cleaner, sewing what she calls “shitty fast fashion”). And all the while, she was making and selling bikinis on the side.
For Ambika, the fiber farm and her commitment to sustainable practices all find their roots in food. “I love good food, love to cook. I just wanted to live a better daily life. When you spend all this time eating well and thinking about what you are putting in your body, you eventually start thinking about what you are putting on your body.”
“I never really had a clear vision of what I wanted, so my process has mostly been a reaction to knowing what I didn’t want. And I knew I really didn’t want to be part of fast fashion. So I just started testing things.“ She began using undyed natural cotton for her bikinis and experimenting with hand dying techniques using materials like walnut and indigo. She says, “My obsession with making things and cutting things apart, thrifting and dying took over from there.”
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Ambika poses in one of her signature balaclavas. |
Ambika’s navigation has led her to a 12-acre property in Woodridge (Sullivan County) where she lives with her boyfriend in a home they share with a dog, cats, sheep, goats, ducks, chickens, bees, and, of course, her beloved angora rabbits. Here she raises, shears, cards, and spins her own angora wool. Her special house blend wool (equal parts rabbit angora, goat angora (mohair), and lambswool) is milled at a small solar- and wind-powered farm in the Catskills, the name of which Ambika guards as a trade secret.
In all her work, Ambika strives for minimal waste. This is part of the reason for her disdain for seasonal collections and manically changing fashion trends. “I don’t do collections; I don’t agree with it. Trends are all about making money and making people feel bad and insecure enough that they need to buy something new. Then you have people getting rid of something just because it’s not in season any more. So much waste.”
Her approach embraces genuine customer demand, rather than artificially imposed trends that convince consumers that they want something new. She says, simply, “If I have a product people like, it will be there forever. If something is not doing well I might take it away, but I don’t agree with taking away products that people love.” As far as how that affects her ability to “keep up with the times,” Ambika is totally unfazed. “I think pieces that are well made are always going to be relevant. Beautifully made things are timeless. Beautiful cuts, beautiful fibers—that never goes out of style.”
All of her work is hand-crocheted by a team of artisans in the area and sold through her website (ambikaboutique.com). Scalability is a non-issue. “I don’t want to wholesale. I don’t want to make 7,000 copies of a product. I don’t want to push people to buy things. I am not stressed about selling this anymore. Once you create a story like mine, people will want to support you. The products sell themselves.”
Ambika takes great pride in the integrity of her products and process. She recalls, “In 2003, when I had the Sports Illustrated cover everyone told me, ‘You’ve got to sell sell sell! It’s now or never!’ But I just had no interest in that. My next level would’ve been getting investment and going to China. Then I would have just been a manager.”
To those of you that might scoff at the triple digit price tags swinging off Ambika’s furry masterpieces, she says. “Yes, the pieces are very expensive. I totally understand if it’s out of your price range. But if you love the story and you love the bunnies, and you understand how much time and love goes into this process, and you’d like to have a lovely amazing hat that will last you a lifetime…” Still she acknowledges that not everyone can afford her pricing. She advises those folks to “Get a bunny, learn the process yourself. One of my bunnies costs $275. The first time you shear them you get enough fiber for two hats!”
This advice is part of larger dream. “I want to get bunnies into people’s hands. I want every 10-year-old to have an angora bunny. I don’t care about competition—the more the merrier. Initial setup (bunny included) will cost around $400, but you’ll make $1,000 off your bunnies in the first year. It’s an amazing investment and amazing experience.”
Ambika is developing educational projects to spread the knowledge, such as the rent-a-rabbit workshop—a yearlong course for people who can’t have bunnies at home to teach them each part of the process. She is also working on a project to connect textile makers with farmers, designers with makers, and to develop a costed (unsubsidized) model for textile work so that it is realistic for people like herself to have a job in fiber in the US.
Just as the food revolution was born out of people’s frustration with the state of eating, so too is a fashion revolution being born. Perhaps this winter season you will join Ambika on the front lines of that revolution, fully clad in fuzzy, fabulous, fashion-forward knitwear.
For more information or to buy products, visit ambikaboutique.com.
by Melissa Orozco-McDonough
Before the existence of the Internet, computers, television, radio, skyscrapers, and weathermen, there was the sky, and it was glorious. Ancient civilizations looked to the skies for almost everything they needed to know. Want to know when to plant your crops? Look upward. Want to know when to harvest them? Look upward. Want to know what time of day it is, where you are, or what direction you’re heading? Well, you get the idea.
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The Smolen Observatory at SUNY New Paltz is in the middle
of an open field, to provide maximum field of vision for sky
gazing. Photo by S. Mitrovich.
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History teaches us of Copernicus, Brahe, Kepler, Newton, Einstein, Hubble, Sagan, Hawking—famous scientists and astronomers who spent their lives trying to make sense of the world around and above us. Yet somewhere along the way we, as civilians, stopped looking up. We put our eyes and minds on sleep mode, deciding instead to rely on our ever-evolving hi-tech gadgets and word of mouth from (sometimes) poorly trained meteorologists. Well, most did anyway, but there are those who remember, those who still choose to look to the infinite cosmos above. Those like the members of the Mid-Hudson Astronomical Association.
The Association was founded in the 1980s by a group of astronomy amateurs and enthusiasts and still exists today. They currently host a monthly lecture series, as well as astronomy nights at SUNY New Paltz’s John R. Kirk Planetarium, open to both members and the public alike. The lectures occur on the third Tuesday of the month and feature guest speakers on a wide range of astronomy-related topics, as well as tech experts in the field. Occasionally, professors from local universities will get involved as well, with the overall goal of the lecture series being to educate and inform. The upcoming November 18 lecture will be on the Herschel Telescope, a $1.4 billion project undertaken by the European Space Agency back in 2000, which by operating in the far-infrared part of the spectrum was able to detect and pick up some of the coldest objects in space.
Astronomy Nights are held on the first and third Thursday of the month at the John R. Kirk Planetarium and Smolen Observatory, on the SUNY New Paltz campus. John R. Kirk was a SUNY New Paltz faculty member in the 1960s and became the planetarium’s first director, going on to create a large list of educational programs not only for college students but for local citizens and schoolchildren as well. The programs he created were unique in that they incorporated elements of astronomy along with history and classical music, evoking both thought and emotion from viewer participants. Kirk passed away in 1979 and the university petitioned the College Council to have the Planetarium renamed in his honor.
Each Astronomy Night begins with a planetarium show, and then, weather permitting, moves to the Smolen Observatory for telescope viewing. The Observatory is named for Jack Smolen, who constructed the optics and framework of the Hayden Planetarium telescope. With 25 years of hard work he constructed his very own observatory in Hurley, The Eagle’s Nest Observatory, which he opened to the community for many years. Smolen and his wife later gifted the observatory to SUNY New Paltz, along with a bequest that allowed the university to build an on-campus observatory, which they named for Smolen.
Willie Yee, President of the Mid-Hudson Astronomical Association, shared that astronomy has been a passion of his since childhood, but he didn’t get his first telescope until after retiring. Joseph Macagne, Vice President of the Association, first started looking up at the moon through binoculars around age 18-19 and a few years later acquired a telescope. For 52 years now he has been observing the sky, and he says he’s still learning, as there’s always something new to discover. “We’re dealing with the infinite, so there are no limits,” he said.
Yee and Macagne spoke of the Association’s outreach and educational programs, and how important it is for the children to have the opportunity to learn, early on, about what exists outside of our planet. Willie’s own daughter grew up to receive a Carl Sagan Exoplanet Postdoctoral Fellowship from NASA, and now works with their Exoplanet Exploration Program. Both Joe and Willie suggest that the best way to get involved in astronomy is to join a local club such as theirs, as it provides a good way to learn about telescopes and see them in action. In their effort to spread knowledge and enthusiasm for the viewable infinite, the group also does events for schools and community organizations and has even worked in conjunction with various festivals and other types of events.
In order for any sky observation to be possible though, the skies must be clear. Lately that has become an issue for astronomy enthusiasts. Aside from the many cloudy days and nights that make observation impossible, light pollution is the main source of sight obscurement. City and town lights across the world are literally drowning out the skies and making it harder and harder to see anything at all. Light pollution, in fact, can be bad for our health as well, and has been linked to cancer, as it disturbs the body’s natural production of melatonin (sleepy hormone). The chances that the skies are actually good enough for viewing, per Yee and Macagne, are only about one in four or five—so here’s hoping the skies will be clear for their upcoming observation events.
To learn more about the Mid-Hudson Astronomical Association and their events, or to become a member visit meetup.com/mhastro/
by Rebecca Shea
How many sheep does it take to knit a sweater? Don’t be silly—sheep can’t knit! And neither can I, for that matter. But I live in handknit wool sweaters and scarves because wellmade, handmade wool garments are cozy, durable, eye-catching, and more meaningful than a store-bought item—perfect for country living.
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Hand-dyed yarn from White Barn Sheep and Wool Farm in
New Paltz, NY. Photo by Joan Horton.
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Each October, I make sure to get to the Wool and Sheep Festival at the Dutchess County Fairgrounds in Rhinebeck for wooly inspiration. The colors and creativity of the goods exhibited by small-scale sheep farmers, spinners, dyers, designers, and garment creators at this festival is exceptional.
“Rhinebeck,” as it is simply referred to by “knitties,” is the largest sheep and wool festival in the country. There are hundreds of vendors, more than a dozen sheep farming exhibitors, dog shows, 4-H competitions, cooking demonstrations, fiber workshops, food vendors, and children’s activities. It’s a sensory explosion of colorful skeins, complex yarns, luxuriant soaps, adorable sheep, and yummy food.
Now in its 42nd year, the festival is organized and managed by a committee of volunteers and the Dutchess County Sheep and Wool Growers Association, an organization that promotes and develops the sheep industry in the Hudson Valley. Held annually on the third weekend in October, this year’s event will be open to the public on Saturday, October 18 from 9am to 5pm, and Sunday, October 19 from 10am to 5pm.
Over 14,000 people attend the festival each year. It is a massive event and things can get a little crazy. If you are new to the fair and just want to browse, going on Sunday after the “knitties” have shopped is your best strategy. Prepare yourself for traffic on Route 9 and please keep your dogs at home. No pets allowed—unless it is a super cute lamb that you carry in your purse, and then maybe no one will tell on you. (Kidding!)
Keep an eye out for the many local Hudson Valley businesses that will be at the event, such as the Hudson Valley Sheep & Wool Company from Red Hook. They carry their own Shetland and Icelandic yarn, batts, roving, and sheets of felt. Dashing Star Farm from Millerton will also be there selling their gorgeous wools in a sophisticated palette of natural colors from their unique cross breed of sheep (English Romney and Border Leicester). They also sell very pretty sheepskins. Don’t miss the indie dyers, Into the Whirled Fiber Art. Usually available online only, these hand dyers bring their vivid yarns from the Catskills to Rhinebeck each year. This is an exclusive opportunity to see and handle their goods before purchasing.
Local Hudson Valley knitter Paula Kucera, owner of the stylish knitting shop White Barn Farm Sheep and Wool in New Paltz, is headed to Rhinebeck not as a vendor but as a member of the Ulster County Handspinners Guild. This organization is devoted to teaching, promoting, and encouraging the art of handspinning. Check out one of their demonstrations.
The festival is great for the whole family. Kids can walk around and admire the different breeds of animals, watch demonstrations of sheep shearing, canine Frisbee frolicking, or sheep herding dogs corralling their charges. Children’s activities are planned throughout the weekend by Mad Science, Ed the Wizard, and Saugerties’ Fiber Flame Studio who is hosting arts and crafts workshops. Kids can learn wet felting techniques, finger knitting, and yarn painting with embroidery.
The festival has good eats too. Don't miss Aba’s Falafel stand, the French Artichoke stand, or the spun maple cotton candy. The lines are long for these yummy treats but the pause will give you time to admire all the special “Rhinebeck Sweaters” on parade.
Knitting-up a special “Rhinebeck Sweater” is a festival tradition. Whether you create a new shawl, sweater, hat, or wear an enduring favorite, this is the place to show it off. Participants strive to impress each other with their wool finery. The skill and creative talent of so many of the knitters that attend Rhinebeck is phenomenal. Complete strangers publicly compliment each other because this crowd truly appreciates every twist and stitch of the yarn.
General admission tickets are $12 a day at the gate, pre-purchased tickets $9 a day. Two- day weekend passes are available for pre-purchase as well at $17. Free parking. The entire fairgrounds is wheelchair accessible; however, there will be no wheelchair or scooter rentals this year.
by Rebecca Shea
Summer’s hottest weather is waning, and with it go some of the season’s most delightful recreations—swimming, tennis, boating, and berry-picking. But don’t lament these activities and crawl off to hibernate just yet because the crisp, bright days of early fall herald a whole new batch of delightful recreations like apple-picking, bonfires, hiking, and leaf viewing.
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Raw hickory nuts still on the tree. Photo by Joan Horton. |
There is also another, older way of spending an autumnal day in the woods that is rather uncommon these days—nutting! Nutting? Yes, nutting—the gathering of wild edible nuts, foraged from the surrounding woods. Gathering wild edibles is one of the latest food trends (as well as one of the most primitive); so it’s not all that nutty to suggest such an activity. Foraged nuts are delicious and extremely good for you, packed with nutrients as well as healthy fats and oils. And considering the high price of nuts in the supermarket, it’s worth a shot.
People have been gathering nuts since the beginning of time (nearly). In 1995, a shallow pit was discovered on an island in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, full of thousands of burned hazelnut shells which were carbon dated to about 7,000 BCE.
In medieval times, in mid September people celebrated Holy Rood Day, honoring the wooden crucifix. Traditionally, folks went nut gathering on that holy day. In Europe this meant gathering hazel nuts—an important protein source in the winter for people and animals. The Dictionary of English Folk Lore describes village nut gathering parties as “Lively affairs with much bawdiness and love making and jokes about testicles because of the way the nuts are clustered on the branches.” The hazel nut was, in fact, a medieval symbol of fertility.
This rural tradition existed for centuries. In America, “nutting parties” were a popular social activity in the late 19th century. Single sex and co-ed parties (many without supervision) ventured into the woodlands to gather food and socialize. Armed with baskets, crooks, and homemade apparatuses for shaking loose the nuts from the trees, people frolicked in the autumn light. Elaborate picnic lunches were a requirement, as were amusing competitive games, which all present partook in.
In our area, nuts are usually ready to harvest from mid-September through October. Many nut trees produce on a three-year cycle within which they will produce a heavy crop of nuts one year, almost none the following year, and a moderate amount the third year. Fortunately, not all nut tree varieties are on the same cycle.
With any luck, a nutting day in our area may bring you a small harvest of luscious black walnuts, hearty white oak acorns, the buttery Hickory pinenuts, or tasty and tender beechnut. Use your harvest to make something special such as a simple Forager’s Cake. Combine foraged blackberries and walnuts with a simple Eve’s Pudding Cake batter.
When gathering nuts, bring along a basket to hold them and a decent field guide to identify the trees that bear nuts edible for humans. It’s important not to gather non-edible nuts—these are often an vital food source wild animals. You may also consider taking a knowledgeable friend or hiring a wild food guide to lead a nutting-party for you and your friends. Seasoned foragers can awaken the wonders of the surrounding environment with their unique perspective on the natural world.
Tips for a Nutting Party
• If you are gathering nuts on private land, it’s important to get permission from the landowner before setting foot on the property.
• In the fall, the woods are used not only for nut gathering but also deer hunting. Dress appropriately and use caution.
• Carry out what you carry in.
• Try not to tread on or disturb wild flowers, which are so fragile and important to the local ecology.
• Check yourself for ticks.
If you can’t organize a nutting party, you can still throw a nutting-themed party and serve all refreshments made of seasonal, nutty ingredients: Waldorf Salad, cream of almond soup, cheese balls with walnuts, burnt almond ice cream, pecan cake, just to name a few. ’Tis the season to be nutty.