Growing at the Speed of Life

by Graham Kerr

  But beyond sharing my back-to-the-land experience with readers (along with growing and cooking information for 60 or so garden fruits and vegetables, which makes up the bulk of this book), there are a few other key elements in my quest to inform and entertain viewers and readers. And, as a long-time student of food and food culture, it would be remiss of me to try to convey not only the what of eating healthfully but also the why. In other words, I want to give you the ammunition to become inspired to increase your own intake of fruits and vegetables from that low point of 3.5 to 9-11 per day.

  For many readers, the health benefits of simply eating fresh and organic may be enough. For the gourmets among you, I hope that the information about common and not-so-common vegetables and the accompanying recipes will provide you with the impetus to cook from scratch, even if you aren’t yet willing or able to put that spade into the ground. For others, it will be thinking about the way our food comes to the table and the mostly negative impact that transporting, storing, and processing food has on our environment.

  So what if some of my store-bought, “fresh” produce was picked 7 days ago and then trucked over 1,000 miles to be sorted and distributed and stored and finally put out on display? Food loses its ability to nourish my body every hour after it leaves the soil. How do I feel about the possible 151 hours during which the food that I am eating has been losing its value?

  And how do I respond to the idea that modern transcontinental or even transglobal transportation of produce, shipped off-season, is a major contributor to global warming? Is my off-season shopping increasing my personal carbon footprint?

  Answer: I could grow my own and enjoy the enormous nutritional benefits of eating that food within 1 hour after harvesting. And I can contribute to cutting back on agribusiness’s need for oil as well as my own trips to the market.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Garden-to-Kitchen Connection

  In the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, China, the United States male and female relay race teams both dropped the baton and were disqualified. During the past two generations, since perhaps the early 1970s, we have dropped another two batons: home cooking and the kitchen garden.

  I need no detailed statistics to back up this claim, only a simple observation of the way most of us live, even as I tried to follow and teach a healthier way to eat.

  I have worked with food and public communications every single day for more than 50 years and watched as people appeared to eat fewer plants that they had grown or cooked from scratch.

  I’m not surprised that our overall health has worsened! Notwithstanding great scientific leaps in medical intervention, our level of appropriate preventive behavior has fallen, and the evidence is plain for everyone to see. We’ve gained weight at an alarming rate, and weight is a prime precursor of ill health, especially for coronary disease, type 2 diabetes, and some cancers. Strangely, our retreat from the scratch kitchen and the kitchen garden really does provide an interesting opportunity for a combined synergistic turnaround.

  So what if all I did was pick up some produce at the market and cook it. Does it really matter that there is no sweat equity in the entire process?

  Answer: Growing my own food gives me great pleasure and satisfaction in having gone the extra mile to provide the very best for my family and friends.

  Throughout this, my first year as a gardener, I’ve noticed a clear improvement in both our family meals and my perception of life itself. To grow a vegetable, harvest it in its prime, and cook and eat it on that day is to relish food in a whole new way.

  I thought that I had always eaten intentionally and valued the overall experience, but I was amazed at my increased appreciation of each plant, just because I had tended it as it grew and watched it carefully as it was more perfectly cooked. It looked better, tasted better, and even felt like a far better choice for my body.

  From seed to soil to plate was now a continuous experience, and at no stage had I been indifferent. Of course, all this had taken time, and this is where I went from being amazed to becoming astounded.

  I’ve always felt that I never had enough time for everything I’ve tried to do, and because of that stress, I’ve been robbed of the joy that comes from completing a job that I consider to be really well done. I’ve never enjoyed cutting corners, even though they may never be seen by a casual observer. But they would be more than obvious to me, the perpetrator, who must labor on and often leave a trail of regrets.

  So what if I got used to convenience foods and my time in the kitchen got immeasurably shorter? Would there come a time when even scraping a carrot would seem like hard labor?

  Answer: If I grow my own, the harvesting, cleaning, and cooking become one seamless experience and make the time spent joyful and rewarding.

  I’ve discovered that as a gardener, I really cannot cut corners. At least I can’t if I want to grow the plants as naturally as possible. It takes time and effort, consistently applied. While there is a sacrifice, there is also the ample reward as the seed breaks open and new life appears and grows and grows—at times I’ve found it almost breathtaking ... and yet it is slow, and it demands my patience and commitment.

  I’ve described this for myself and others as the speed of life. And I’ve adjusted to that speed in my own day-to-day habits, and in many ways I’ve stopped trying to win the race with a competitive drive. It’s enough for me that I can, with greater confidence, see a race—or way of life—marked out for me, and if I persevere and run it patiently, then I may be able to finish well, if not to finish first or even try to do so!

  The Benefit to the Body

  I’ve been on a consistent search for the past 38 years. It’s not for the fountain of youth (I have no illusions about life’s normal course); however, it has seemed only reasonable to want to be well enough to celebrate life and its opportunities for as long as possible.

  So my search has been for my wife, Treena, who has been sick and wants to be well, and for myself, who is well and doesn’t want to be sick. We have become partners in purpose where our goals overlap: simple, reasonable wellness.

  I must now have read at least 600 research papers on the subject and followed the relevant nutritional and behavioral sciences closely. Everywhere I see a consistency—not in percentages of fats to calories and the like, which always seem to move up and down, albeit slightly, but in the apparent widespread benefits of the freshest and best (most natural and sustainable) vegetables and fruits. The more, it seems, the merrier!

  Nudge-Nudge: The Law of Intended Consequences

  I’ve now lived long enough to have seen politicians manipulate the nutritional sciences by only gradually ratcheting up their recommendations for how many servings of fruits and vegetables we should consume each day. Exactly what is one serving is known by only less than 1 percent of the population, so either you are part of that small group or you will increase its membership by reading the following explanation:1 serving = 100 grams

  Scientists speak in grams because metric measurements are much less likely to cause error or misunderstanding. The cup measure can change in multiple ways, resulting in substantial changes in taste, texture, and nutrition. Sometime in the future, the United States may go metric; but in the meantime, let me translate those 100 grams into a measure that most readers will understand.

  Try to get 100 grams (3.5 ounces) into a cup measure and it almost fills a half cup (usually 4 ounces). So, you see, consumers already have to make some adjustments to line up with the scientists—and those small adjustments can add up over time.

  This is how most readers will understand a single serving size:

  Let’s see how this might work over a typical day of your life, adding up to 10-12 servings a day.

  BREAKFAST

  (Cereal with either)

  1 banana = 1 serving

  And/or ¼ cup dried fruit = 1 serving

  And/or ½ cup berries = 1 serving

  100% fruit juice, ¾ cup = 1 serving

&nbs
p; LUNCH

  (Soup and/or Salad)

  1 cup vegetable soup = 1-2 servings

  1 cup leafy greens = 1 serving

  ½ cup hard vegetables (tomatoes, beets, celery,

  onions, etc.) = 1 serving

  EVENING MEAL

  ½ cup vegetables = 1 serving

  ½ cup potatoes = 1 serving

  DESSERT

  ½ cup berries (or other fruit) = 1 serving

  The History

  The U.S. government began to make quantitative suggestions about diet, including nutritional guidelines, in a white paper in 1974. The “5 A Day” program emerged from those suggestions. (It is noteworthy to record that Canada introduced a program calling for 9 servings a day around the same time.) Now fast-forward to the recent OmniHeart Study and the recommendation for 11 servings a day.

  All of these visionary objectives should be compared to the present estimated actual U.S. consumption of 3.5 servings, one of which is said to be french fries.

  Upon review, I’d call this a fairly typical example of “Nudge-nudge, wink-wink ... say no more,” to co-opt the famous line from Monty Python’s Flying Circus.

  Recently, one of President Obama’s largely behind-the-scenes advisers coauthored a book called Nudge, which suggests that government’s role is to encourage change with gentle pressure through small positive legislative initiatives (nudges) that will get the greater ball of intended consequences moving in a positive direction.

  Hence, we used to consume 3 servings and we have been “nudged” by 5- or 9- or 11-a-day programs to arrive at only 3.5 servings in 2010!

  The Canadian program resulted in 4.964 servings a day in 2008, up from 4.277 servings in 1974—almost 1⅔ servings more than the U.S. achievement during the same period.

  I wonder where we would be now if we had grasped the nettle that science understood and began in 1974 with a “9 A Day” program. As it now stands, we apparently need to increase our consumption from 3.5 to 9-11 servings, which is at least a 300 percent increase. The consequences for such an increase could be interesting. For example:

  ■ We would become substantially partvegetarian. Meat (and its saturated fat levels) would fall by at least 50 percent, as they have in my household.

  ■ Low-density lipoprotein (LDL) cholesterol levels would fall, along with triglycerides, and high-density lipoprotein (HDL) levels would rise, reducing heart disease.

  ■ We would likely lose weight, reducing type 2 diabetes.

  ■ We might also see a reduction in some cancers.

  It is instructive to look at a major study (Adventist Health Study-2, 1976- 1988) conducted among California Seventh-Day Adventists, who practice a predominantly vegetarian lifestyle. (The results were quite similar to other Adventist groups worldwide.) Among their vegetarian members, researchers noted increased longevity compared to the general population of the state. The men and women lived 9.1 and 6.1 years longer, respectively. In another study, California Seventh-Day Adventists were shown to take fewer medications and had fewer overnight hospital stays and surgical procedures. Based on a 1992 comparison, they were the longest living formally described population in the world.

  Since we as a nation are trying to reduce our healthcare costs, it is clear that the adoption of such a lifestyle, even if modified, could cause substantial economic savings. However, could we produce enough plants to meet such a goal? The answer is a qualified yes, but other major changes would be required, among which would be:

  ■ A vast increase in fresh and best in season (FABIS)—that is, locally grown, sustainable food

  ■ A conversion of monocrops into multicropping

  ■ Smaller farms using intensive agricultural techniques and marketing concepts, such as community supported agriculture (CSA)

  ■ Projects in urban settings (in the 1800s, 6 percent of Paris consisted of kitchen gardens)

  These changes would open up small-scale farming to millions of people who may prefer to live a simpler life to that offered in the high-tech, high-pressured, and polluted urban sprawl. Such change would reduce carbon emissions because local and smaller producers use less oil. But it would also increase the price to the consumer. As prices rose, so would the number of people who saw the advantage of growing their own. And such a movement would give birth to a whole raft of revived industries, from seed producers to nurseries, greenhouses, natural fertilizers, and garden tools.

  There seems little doubt that such a domino effect would result in us eating better and eating less. By doing so, we might live longer, healthier, and more active lives, with much lower healthcare costs.

  Utopian? Well, yes, I suppose so, but isn’t that really more appropriate than the “Nudge-nudge, wink-wink ... say no more” that, with its political procrastination, seems to have had barely any impact on our ever-increasing addiction to convenience and to pharmaceuticals to somehow keep us going?

  Add to the swing toward plant life the concept of reduced portions—especially as we age—and the business of eating is ripe for massive change.

  Changing a food habit, however, is considered by some experts to be harder than breaking a heroin addiction—largely because we must continue to eat!

  One thing that may help us is a random factor that would appear to be just over the horizon but surely coming soon to a table like yours: our economy and the impact of higher oil prices on our artificially low food prices. When we get substantially higher gas prices, the present road transport system that brings produce over a thousand miles in the off-season may well be severely curtailed, and local, sustainable, seasonal agriculture may take its place.

  Even then, the actual farming overhead costs will become painfully obvious, and when that happens, the kitchen garden may well be the most logical and cost-effective way to go.

  By the mid-2010s, say 2015-2017, I strongly suspect that we will see a definite return to home-grown vegetables and, along with that change, an improvement in the quality of the lives we have left.

  To some degree, I’m now in the midst of making that change, and in every sense, it’s really working out just fine. I didn’t make the change out of a fear of the future, but rather out of the certain knowledge that tomorrow’s communities will be much more independently sustainable for their food supplies, and I simply wanted to know what would need to be done to help it along.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My Need-to-Know List

  I know of literally dozens of great books on gardening that go to enormous lengths to cover the fascinating subject of growing your own food. They appear to leave nothing out, and there—especially for the novice gardener—lies the problem.

  For me, all the available information was overkill. To settle down to read a book on improving soil that had at least 50,000 words (the size of this entire book) was more than I could do in year one. Although I do intend to read it later, what I wanted in the short term was sufficient guidance to keep me out of trouble and bring me enough reward to fuel a lasting enthusiasm to know more and to keep on digging!

  I reduced my need-to-know list to a baker’s dozen of topics, which I believe most novice gardeners—and not a few more experienced ones—will find of primary interest:1. Soil: how to sample, test for pH, adjust for rainfall runoff

  2. Turf: preparation and removal

  3. Soil Improvement: fertilizer, soil-less mixes, manure, stones

  4. Raised Beds: layout, pathways, crop plan, critter control

  5. EarthBox: containers, operation, location

  6. Seed Germination and Vegetable Starts: how-to, care

  7. Transplanting: when, how

  8. Watering: how much, how often

  9. Feeding: how much, when

  10. Pest Control and Plant Diseases: organic-related, main concerns, evidence

  11. Composting: using leftovers, preparing for next season

  12. Seasonal Replanting: getting a second crop

  13. The Greenhouse: size, location, layout, operation

 
These subjects became my game plan, and my local knowledge gardeners guided me in their practical application. Nothing was theoretical; it was all hands-on practical.

  So, this is where I record what I did and provide you with references and recommendations to get you started on your own quest. You may even want to take my topic checklist to your own local knowledge kitchen gardeners, who will have had experience with your particular microclimate.

  1. Soil

  Scott Titus, my neighborhood soil expert, arrived at our soggy site in early March carrying what looked like a giant apple corer. He proceeded to plunge it into several parts of our lawn and deposited these earthen cores into a plastic bag, to be sent away for analysis.

  On our property, the soil depth, before reaching substantial stones, was less than 10 inches. There was also green plastic netting, used by sod farmers to hold together the instant lawn, that had been there for eight years.

  We’ve got clay and some silt, so the ground’s wet, and our driveway slopes, dumping all the surface water directly onto our sunny gardening site.

  Our first task was to redirect the surface water by digging out an 8-inch-deep trench to intercept the runoff. We buried a 4-inch perforated drainage pipe and then covered it in ½-inch gravel. All this is what I was told is called a French drain. Exactly why it’s French I’ve been unable to discover. Everyone with an English background usually questions why things are dubbed “French”!